Everyone who knew him was fond of him.

You will not find his like." Raising his eyes to Maria he repeated with emphasis:--"He was a good man, you will not find his like." "When we were at Mistassini," began Madame Chapdelaine, "seven years ago, he was only a lad, but very strong and quick and as tall as he is now--I mean as he was when he came here last summer.

Always good-natured too.

No one could help liking him." They all looked straight before them in speaking, and yet what they said seemed to be for Maria alone, as if the dear secret of her heart were open to them.

But she spoke not, nor moved, her eyes fixed upon the frosted panes of the little window, impenetrable as the wall.
Eutrope Gagnon did not linger.