"Yes, my God, I love you with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my spirit, with all my power, and I promise to love my neighbour as myself for the love of you."
When Gabrielle left the Church and came out again into the clear light of day, the agony and struggle of the past hour seemed like an evil dream. The snow was as white and pure as ever, the sky as blue, and the bright sunlight streamed all about like a radiance from God. She took long breaths of the delicious, frosty air that went tingling through her veins like wine, and along the crisp surface of road she went tripping on light moccasined feet, while her eyes shone and her face glowed with the joy of living. What could it be that had troubled her so? Who was that old witch with the evil eye that had put such thoughts into her head? Jean was hers, without a doubt. He was not one to change or be discouraged because of a girl's saucy words. When he was ready he would ask, and take no refusal. But if not, what matter? There were others--a certain young officer of the Garrison, for example. Jean was not indispensable, by any means. Blanchette might have him at any time. No, not Blanchette, but any other girl in the parish--Suzette Gagnon, for example, with her coal-black hair, her pale complexion, her green eyes, and no dowry at all. Yes, Suzette it should be, for punishment.
As Gabrielle was disposing of her lover in this summary way, she became aware of footsteps behind her, and in a moment a tall, stalwart form was walking by her side, and she knew, without looking, that it was Jean himself, aggressive as ever and very much the master of his own destiny.
"Good morning, Gabrielle," he said, as if they had always been the best of friends. "Is it permitted that one walk along with you for a distance?"
"The road is free, Monsieur Giroux, and you have overtaken me. You walk too fast."
"Oh, no, Gabrielle, but I am glad that you walk so slowly. Of what were you thinking, I wonder?"
Gabrielle blushed at the too pointed question, but laughed at her own confusion.
"There is an inquisitive man, I must say; and a conceited man too. Perhaps he believes that I was thinking of him."
"Ah! if you only were, Gabrielle! For me, I certainly was thinking of you. I saw you in Church, and heard you too. Mon Dieu, but you sing like an angel."
"Monsieur Giroux," said Gabrielle, reprovingly, "you should go to Church to pray, to worship, and not to look at the neighbours."