She glanced intently at the little girl, who flushed and cast down her eyes. Why was she always a poor thing?
“And that is no home for her.”
“I should think not! Home, indeed, in that old cabin, where men meet to carouse, and strange stories are told,” said madame decisively.
“I am to be her guardian and look after her. I think I shall settle down. I have tramped about enough to satisfy myself for one while. I shall go into trading, and have some one keep a house for me and take care of the child. Meanwhile I must persuade some one to give her shelter and oversight.”
“Yes, yes, m’sieu,” encouragingly.
“And so I have come to you,” looking up, with a bright laugh.
Gaspard Denys very often obtained just what he wanted without much argument. Perhaps it was not so much his way as his good judgment of others.
“And so I have come to you,” he repeated. “If you will take her in a little while, I think she will enjoy being with children. She has had a lonely life thus far.”
“Poor thing! Poor little girl, to lose her mother so soon! And you think old Antoine will make no trouble?”
“Oh, no, no! He would not know what to do with her.”