Bernadou's eyes met hers frankly:
"It is Margot Dax: does that please you, gran'mère, or no?"
"It pleases me well," she said simply. But there was a little quiver about her firm-set mouth, and her aged head was bent over the primroses. She had foreseen it; she was glad of it; and yet, for the instant it was a pang to her.
"I am very thankful," said Bernadou, with a flash of joy on his face.
He was independent of his grandmother: he could make enough to marry upon by his daily toil, and he had a little store of gold and silver in his bank in the thatch, put by for a rainy day; but he would have no more thought of going against her will than he would have thought of lifting his hand against her. In the primitive homesteads of the Berceau de Dieu, filial reverence was still accounted the first of virtues, yet the simplest and the most imperative.
"I will go see Margot this evening," said Reine Allix, after a little pause. "She is a good girl, and a brave, and of pure heart and fair name. You have chosen well, my grandson."
Bernadou stooped his tall, fair, curly head, and she laid her hands on him and blessed him. That evening, as the sun set, Reine Allix kept
