Babet Le Nocher, in a new gown, short enough to reveal a pair of
shapely ankles in clocked stockings and well-clad feet that would
have been the envy of many a duchess, sat on the thwart of the boat
knitting. Her black hair was in the fashion recorded by the grave
Peter Kalm, who, in his account of New France, says, "The peasant
women all wear their hair in ringlets, and nice they look!"
"As I live!" exclaimed she to Jean, who was enjoying a pipe of
native tobacco, "here comes that handsome officer back again, and in
as great a hurry to return as he was to go up the highway!"
"Ay, ay, Babet! It is plain to see he is either on the King's
errand or his own. A fair lady awaits his return in the city, or
one has just dismissed him where he has been! Nothing like a woman
to put quicksilver in a man's shoes--eh! Babet?"
"Or foolish thoughts into their hearts, Jean!" replied she,
laughing.
"And nothing more natural, Babet, if women's hearts are wise enough
in their folly to like our foolish thoughts of them. But there are
two! Who is that riding with the gentleman? Your eyes are better
than mine, Babet!"
"Of course, Jean! that is what I always tell you, but you won't
believe me--trust my eyes, and doubt your own! The other
gentleman," said she, looking fixedly, while her knitting lay still
in her lap, "the other is the young Chevalier de Repentigny.
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