It spoils them.'
As I looked at Jeannette's beautiful face, her delicate eagle profile,
her fair skin and light blue eyes, I recalled this conversation with
vivid indignation. The surgeon, at least, should be convinced of his
mistake. Jeannette had never looked more brilliant; probably the man
had never really scanned her features,--he was such a cold, unseeing
creature; but to-night he should have a fair opportunity, so I invited
him to join our storm-bound tea-party. He hesitated.
'Ah, do, Monsieur Rodenai,' said Jeannette, springing forward. 'I
sing for you, I dance; but, no, you not like that. Bien, I
tell your fortune then.' The young girl loved company. A party of
three, no matter who the third, was to her infinitely better than two.
The surgeon stayed.
A merry evening we had before the hearth-fire. The wind howled around
the block-house and rattled the flag-staff, and the snow pellets
sounded on the window-panes, giving that sense of warm comfort within
that comes only with the storm. Our servant had been drafted into
service for the military sociable, and I was to prepare the evening
meal myself.
'Not tea,' said Jeannette, with a wry face; 'tea,--c'est
medecine!' She had arranged her hair in fanciful braids, and now
followed me to the kitchen, enjoying the novelty like a child.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122