Bigot, to do him justice, felt as sincere a regard for this
beautiful, amiable girl as his nature was capable of entertaining.
In rank and fortune she was more than his equal, and left to
himself, he would willingly have married her. Before he learned
that his project of a marriage in the Colony was scouted at Court he
had already offered his love to Caroline de St. Castin, and won
easily the gentle heart that was but too well disposed to receive
his homage.
Her trust went with her love. Earth was never so green, nor air so
sweet, nor skies so bright and azure, as those of Caroline's wooing,
on the shores of the beautiful Bay of Minas. She loved this man
with a passion that filled with ecstasy her whole being. She
trusted his promises as she would have trusted God's. She loved him
better than she loved herself--better than she loved God, or God's
law; and counted as a gain every loss she suffered for his sake, and
for the affection she bore him.
After some months spent in her charming society, a change came over
Bigot.
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