"She is more beautiful even than my school-teacher," he had said to Madame Bourque; a compliment which the latter repeated as of especial value, because hitherto Pierre had considered his teacher the model of womanly perfection.
"Martine," said Mrs. Redmond, before the carriage arrived, "have you written to Yvonne?"
"Oh, no; I meant to, but now I'll wait till we reach Digby."
"I fear that Yvonne will be disappointed. She probably expected a letter to-day."
"I know it; I am ashamed of myself."
Martine's tone was penitent, but no one who knew Martine ever expected her to do promptly what she had promised. It was always a little easier to put off things to another day. Priscilla looked at her scornfully, as if to say "How fickle!"
When at last they were ready to start, all felt sad at parting with Madame Bourque and her family, for in two days they had come to seem almost like old friends. The two little Bourque girls, as the carriage drove off, looked with astonishment at the dollar bill that Mrs. Redmond had put in the hands of the elder to divide with her younger sister.
Pierre walked on a little way with Amy before she mounted her wheel, and on saying good-bye at last he knew that the American lady would really send him the books that she had promised.
Their train to Digby was not the famous "Flying Bluenose," but a local that made no pretence of hurrying; it instead gave them ample opportunity to study the scenery from the windows.
When at last they reached Digby, they were warm and dust-covered, and glad enough, too, when they found carriages waiting for them at the station.