"I'd die first!" she cried, looking up proudly.
"That's settled then! And now let me tell you a secret, just to reward you. I am not even thinking of marriage with Blaisette Simon. Come, how many kisses will you give me for that piece of news?"
So heaven opened for Ellenor, and the rest of Christmas Day was spent in going over and over again every word he had said to her behind the Haunted House. She was unusually amiable at home, and her father, who was devoted to her, rejoiced in the sunshine of her ready smiles and bright ways.
This mood lasted but a few days. On New Year's Day she went to Colomberie Farm to help in the kitchen, for there was much to be done in the way of preparing refreshments for the constant string of guests who came to bring greetings and presents to the pretty Blaisette, the rich, desirable heiress.
Ellenor's duty was to take fresh relays of cake and wine into the best parlour: and towards the end of the afternoon, when it was dusk, and the lamps were not yet lit, she entered the room suddenly, intent on business. There were only two people seated by the fire. One was Blaisette, a vision of dainty prettiness in a new blue gown; the other was Dominic Le Mierre.
He held the girl's hand in his. He was bending forward to kiss her as Ellenor entered the room. From the heaven of the last few days, she fell into a hell of jealousy and bitter hatred of Blaisette. At once she turned and fled from the room. It was all very well to speak of his marriage with another girl, when she herself was in his arms. It was another thing to see him kiss the pink and white face of her rival. She could not bear it. Once more she rushed from Colomberie Farm in bitter despair and unreasoning grief.
