La Corriveau had carefully put on the same
dress she had worn that day.
"I do recollect!" replied Caroline, as a feeling of confidence
welled up like a living spring within her. She offered La Corriveau
her hand. "I thank you gratefully," said she; "you were indeed kind
to me that day in the forest, and I am sure you must mean kindly by
me now."
La Corriveau took the offered hand, but did not press it. She could
not for the life of her, for she had not heart to return the
pressure of a human hand. She saw her advantage, however, and kept
it through the rest of the brief interview.
"I mean you kindly, lady," replied she, softening her harsh voice as
much as she could to a tone of sympathy, "and I come to help you out
of your trouble."
For a moment that cruel smile played on her thin lips again, but she
instantly repressed it. "I am only a peasant-woman," repeated she
again, "but I bring you a little gift in my basket to show my good-
will." She put her hand in her basket, but did not withdraw it at
the moment, as Caroline, thinking little of gifts but only of her
father, exclaimed,--
"I am sure you mean well, but you have more important things to tell
me of than a gift.
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