She had followed a sudden impulse, and was not quite sure it was for the best. Only her mother heart cried out for love.
The child stared, motionless, and it dampened her ardor for the moment. She could not fathom the eyes.
"Are you not glad? Would you not like to live with me?"
"Oh, oh!" It was a cry of rapture. She caught the soft white hands and kissed them. The joy was so new, so unexpected, she had no words for it.
CHAPTER IV
A HUSBAND
Lalotte Dubray had had the gala day of her life. Her peasant wedding had been simple enough. The curé's blessing after the civil ceremony, the dance on the green, the going home to the one room in the small thatched hut, the bunk-like bed along the wall, the two chests that answered for seats, a kitchen table, two shelves for a rude dresser, with dishes that had been earned by the hardest toil, but they were better off than some, for there was a pig grunting and squealing outside, and a little garden.
Times had grown harder and harder. Antoine had been compelled to join the army and fight for he knew not what. Then he had decamped, and instead of being shot had been sent to New France. Lalotte was willing enough to go with him.
Hard as it was, it bettered their fortunes. He had gone out once as a sort of servant and handy man to the company. Then he had struck out for himself. He was shrewd and industrious, and did not mind hard work, nor hardships.