"No, no, not yet,—Pius Poirier may, by and by, but do not be too severe with her, Agapit. She has no time to think of lovers now. She is—but have you not heard? Surely you must have—every one is laughing about it."
"I have heard nothing. I returned late last night. I came directly here this morning. I intended to go to see you to-morrow."
"I thought you would, but I could not wait. Little Bidiane should be stopped at once, or she will become notorious and get into the papers,—I was afraid it might already be known in Halifax."
"My dear Rose, there are people in Halifax who never heard of Clare, and who do not know that there are even a score of Acadiens left in the country; but what is she doing?" and he masked his impatience under an admirable coolness.
"She says she is making bombance," said Rose, and she struggled to repress a second laugh; "but I will begin from the first, as you know nothing. The very day you left, that Mr. Greening, who has been canvassing the county for votes, went to our inn, and Bidiane recognized him as a man who had spoken ill of the Acadiens in her presence in Halifax."
"What had he said?"
"He said that they were 'evil-smelling,'" said Rose, with reluctance.
"Oh, indeed,—he did," and Agapit's lip curled. "I would not have believed it of Greening. He is rather a decent fellow. Sarcastic, you know, but not a fool, by any means. Bidiane, I suppose, cut him."
"No, she did not cut him; he had not been introduced. She asked him to apologize, and he would not. Then she told Mirabelle Marie to request him to leave the house. He did so."
"Was he angry?"