Thought you aught was wrong?"
"Nay,--only I felt the desire to know."
"Friend," said Maren, reaching out a hand which the man took strongly
in both his own; "good, good friend! Ever you are at my back."
"Where you may easily reach me when you will."
"I know. 'Tis you alone have made possible the long trail. Ah! how long
until another spring?"
But, when Prix had lounged away into the dusk and the girl had stepped
into the soft dust of the roadway, she fell to wondering how it was
that mention of the year's wait brought no longer its impatience, its
old dissatisfaction.
She was thinking of this as she neared the factory, her light tread
muffled in the dust.
"Foolish Francette! What should I do with a gay little girl like you?
Play in the sunshine years yet, little one, and think not of the bonds
and cares of marriage. How could these little hands lift the heavy
kettles, wash the blankets, and do the thousand tasks of a household?
You are mistaken, child. It is not love you feel, but the changing
fancies of maidenhood. Play in the sun with Loup and wait for the real
prince. He will come some day with great beauty and you will give no
more thought to me.
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