"You are my own darling and the light of my eyes, but, dear child, I must send you away. You must learn many things which I cannot teach you, and there are other reasons which I cannot explain. You will often come to see me, and no doubt madame will let you go to grandfather's, for she has been a good friend to the family at all times. Be a good girl, obey the lady in all things, learn all you can, and doubtless you will always have friends."
Therese said no more in opposition, for she saw there was no use in it, and with her usual cheerfulness, she at once turned her eyes to the bright side of the picture: "I dare say I can go to church and Sunday school every Sunday."
"No doubt. Madame has always taught in the school ever since she came to the place, and she is very religious."
"And I can draw books from the Sunday school, and the school library if I live in the district. Aunt Lenore does so; and I know Miss Kitty has plenty of story-books. Oh yes, I shall be very happy."
And very happy Therese undoubtedly was. She had lived at Mrs. Tremaine's all winter, and Mrs. Tremaine had no mind to part with her. But Therese often felt her heart go out with a great yearning toward her solitary mother, and as the spring came on, she felt drawn toward the woods and the rocky pasture she knew so well. She had come home to consult her mother as to her staying with half a hope that she might remain. That hope had vanished already, and she could not help shedding a few tears over its disappearance; but she soon wiped them away and prepared to make the most of her visit.
Mrs. Beaubien, too, seemed to wish to make up for her cool welcome. She exerted herself to talk more than usual, asked the news in the village, and was interested to hear that Aunt Madeline had a new baby girl, and Uncle Claude insisted on calling it Michelle, after Grandfather Beaubien. Still, she seemed somewhat absent, and Therese once or twice thought she seemed to be listening.
"What are you listening to, mother?" she asked at last. "I don't hear anything."
Mrs. Beaubien started: "I thought I heard a noise among the hens. The foxes have carried off two or three lately. Come, daughter, you had better go to bed; you have had a long walk, and must be tired."
Therese was not unwilling to go to bed, for she was really very tired. "Are you not coming too?" she asked.
"Not just yet; I have a bit of work to finish. But I will not have you sit up. Go to bed and to sleep."