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A Little Girl in Old Detroit Part 52

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"We can give you but poor accommodations; still it will not be for long, as we go up North to accept our cousin's hospitality. You will be delighted to meet the Sieur Angelot. The Fleury family will be glad to see you again, though they have no such luxuriant hospitality as before."

They all went to the plain small shelter in which the Fleurys were thankful to be housed, and none the less glad to welcome their friends.

They kept Jeanne to dinner, and would gladly have taken her as a guest.

M. Loisel had offered her a home, but she preferred staying with Wenonah. Paspah had never come back from his quest. Whether he had met with some accident, or simply found wild life too fascinating to leave, no one ever knew. To Wenonah it was not very heart-breaking.

"Oh, little one," she said at parting, "I shall miss thee sorely.



Detroit will not be the same without thee."

And then Jeanne Angelot went sailing up the beautiful lakes again, past sh.o.r.es in later summer bloom and beauty and islands that might be fairy haunts. They were enchanted bowers to her, but it was some time before she knew what had lent them such an exquisite charm.

So she came home to her father's house and met with a warm welcome, a noisy welcome from two boys, who could not understand why she would not climb and jump, though she did run races with them, and they were always hanging to her.

"And you turn red so queerly sometimes," said Gaston, much puzzled. "I can't tell which is the prettier, the red or the white. But the red seems for M. St. Armand."

Loudac and the dame were overjoyed to see her again. The good dame shook her head knowingly.

"The Sieur will not keep her long," she said.

Old Detroit rose very slowly from its ashes. In August Governor Hull arrived and found no home awaiting him, but had to go some distance to a farm house for lodgings. He brought with him many eastern ideas. The old streets must be widened, the lanes straightened, the houses made more substantial. There was a great outcry against the improvements. Old Detroit had been good enough. It was the center of trade, it commanded the highway of commerce. And no one had any money to spend on foolery.

But he persevered until he obtained a grant from Congress, and set to work rectifying wrongs that had crept in, reorganizing the courts, and revising property deeds. The old Fort was repaired, the barracks put in better shape, the garrison augmented.

But the event the Sieur Angelot had feared and foreseen, came to pa.s.s.

Many difficulties had arisen between England and the United States, and at last culminated in war again. This time the northern border was the greatest sufferer on land. The Indians were aroused to new fury, the different tribes joining under Tec.u.mseh, resolved to recover their hunting grounds. The many terrible battles have made a famous page in history. General Hull surrendered Detroit to the British, and once more the flag of England waved in proud triumph.

But it was of short duration. The magnificent victories on the lakes and Generals Harrison's and Winchester's successes on land, again changed the fate of the North. Once more the stars and stripes went up over Detroit, to remain for all time to come.

But after that it was a new Detroit,--wide streets and handsome buildings growing year by year, but not all the old landmarks obliterated; and their memories are cherished in many a history and romance.

Jeanne St. Armand, a happy young wife, with two fathers very fond of her, went back to Detroit after awhile. And sometimes she wondered if she had really been the little girl to whom all these things had happened.

When Louis Marsac heard the White Chief had found his daughter and given her to Laurent St. Armand, he ground his teeth in impotent anger. But for the proud, fiery, handsome Indian wife of whom he felt secretly afraid, he might have gained the prize, he thought. She was extravagantly fond of him, and he prospered in many things, but he envied the Sieur Angelot his standing and his power, though he could never have attained either.

Pierre De Ber was a good son and a great a.s.sistance to his father in recovering their fortunes. After awhile he married, largely to please his mother, but he made an excellent husband. He knew why Jeanne Angelot could never have been more than a friend to him. But of his children he loved little Jeanne the best, and Madame St. Armand was one of her G.o.dmothers, when she was christened in the beautiful new church of St.

Anne, which had experienced almost as varying fortunes as the town itself.

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