The mother of the family smiled, and 'Tilda Jane gazed in admiration at the soft black eyes under the firm brows. "I can tell you, mademoiselle—he is near by, even nex' doah."
"Oh!" murmured 'Tilda Jane, then she fell into meditation. These people were foreigners, poor, too, evidently, though perfectly neat and clean. She wondered how they got into the country.
"You air emigrants?" she said, at last, inquiringly.
"French," said the woman, "'Cajien French—sent from our country long ago. Our people went back. We returned to earn a little money. Too many people where we lived."
"Did you come through Vanceboro?" asked 'Tilda Jane.
The woman's liquid eyes appealed to her husband. He shrugged his shoulders, looked down the barrel of his gun, and said, "It is a long time ago we come. I do not know."
"Mebbe they weren't so partickler," observed 'Tilda Jane.
"Let um do!" came in a sepulchral voice from the fireplace.
'Tilda Jane stared at the old grandfather, who had taken his pipe from his mouth to utter the phrase, and was now putting it back.
The house-mother addressed her. "Do not fear, mademoiselle; it is the only English he knows. He means 'all right, do not anxious yourself, be calm, very calm.'"