"Why, yes. In England I was brought up. I love England; but I am French, and a Protestant."
Geoffrey looked into the grove as he spoke on softly, mindful of his duty:
"Tell me, lady, how many days must I travel before I come to the province of Massachusetts?"
Madeleine Labroquerie had not a word to say. This handsome stranger had hardly arrived, and already he suggested departure.
"I must not delay," he faltered.
"My fire!" cried Madeleine, stretching out her hands. "It will not burn. Stranger"—she turned to him with a winsome glance—"will you make my fire burn?"
She hurried to the smoking pile. He was beside her instantly.
"You shall not soil those hands."
"They are already smoked and soiled. And see—a burn!"
Because Geoffrey dared not look Madeleine pouted at his back. Then she kicked the smouldering wood, and exclaimed spitefully, "There!"