"I gladly accept your offer, monsieur. Au revoir, madame."
Madame Thériault reluctantly watched them depart. She would like to keep this gay, charming creature with her for an hour longer.
"It is wonderful that they did not come to meet you," said Emmanuel, "but they did not expect you naturally."
"I sent a telegram from Halifax," said Bidiane, "but can you believe it?—I was so stupid as to say Wednesday instead of Tuesday. Therefore Madame de Forêt expects me to-morrow."
"You advised her rather than Mirabelle Marie, but wherefore?"
Bidiane shook her shining head. "I do not know. I did not ask; I did simply as Mr. Nimmo told me. He arranges all. I was with friends until this morning. Only that one thing did I do alone on the journey,—that is to telegraph,—and I did it wrong," and a joyous, subdued peal of laughter rang out on the warm morning air.
Emmanuel reverently assisted her into his cart, and got in beside her. His blood had been quickened in his veins by this unexpected occurrence. He tried not to look too often at this charming girl beside him, but, in spite of his best efforts, his eyes irresistibly and involuntarily kept seeking her face. She was so eloquent, so well-mannered; her clothes were smooth and sleek like satin; there was a faint perfume of lovely flowers about her,—she had come from the very heart and centre of the great world into which he had never ventured. She was charged with magic. What an acquisition to the Bay she would be!
He carefully avoided the ruts and stones of the road. He would not for the world give her an unnecessary shock, and he ardently wished that this highway from the woods to the Bay might be as smooth as his desire would have it.
"And this is Sleeping Water," she said, dreamily.
Emmanuel assured her that it was, and she immediately began to ply him with questions about the occupants of the various farms that they were passing, until a sudden thought flashed into her mind and made her laughter again break out like music.