"They are coming back for St. Anne's Day," said the woman; "great time then at the chapel."
They had not gone very far together when, turning a corner, the two came suddenly on Priscilla and Amy.
"Oh, Martine," cried the latter, "where have you been? We have had our tea, and mother is so worried about you."
"I hope it was a good tea and that you saved me some," rejoined Martine; "for now that you mention it, though I hadn't thought of it before, I realize that I'm half starved."
"But where have you been?"
"Oh, I've been a kind of babe in the woods, only there weren't any berries for me to feed on, and all that I have to show for my adventure are these tears in my gown."
"Good-bye, ladies," said the Indian woman, while Martine was talking, "and I thank you much," she concluded, holding out her hand to Martine.
In a moment she had disappeared.
"Is that another protégée?" asked Priscilla, a little sharply.
Martine did not answer. She had already plunged into a lively account of her afternoon, omitting nothing, not even her own carelessness in relation to the bicycle.