"'T is a phrase so lightly spoken that I scarce know what it may signify to you.
You love some one then, Monsieur ?" and she looked up at me curiously.
"My mother, Mademoiselle." I saw the expression upon her face change instantly.

"Your pardon," she exclaimed, hastily.

"'T was not the meaning I had thought.

I know something of such love as that, and honor you for thus expressing it." "I have often wondered, since first we met, at your being here, seemingly alone, at this outermost post of the frontier.

It seems a strange home for one of your refinement and evident delight in social life." "'T is not from choice, Monsieur.