A woman's love is still with those people her story. She was thirteen
when she met him. That is the age for an Acadian girl to meet him,
because, you know, the large families--the thirteen, fourteen,
fifteen, twenty children--take up the years; and when one wishes
to know one's great-great-grandchildren (which is the dream of the
Acadian girl) one must not delay one's story.

She had one month to love him in, and in one week they were to have
the wedding. The Acadians believe that marriage must come _au point_,
as cooks say their sauces must be served. Standing on the bayou-bank
in front of the Mérionaux, one could say "Good day" with the eyes to
the Zévérin Theriots--that was the name of the parents of the young
bridegroom. Looking under the branches of the oaks, one could see
across the prairie,--prairie and sea-marsh it was,--and clearly
distinguish another little red-washed house like the Mérionaux, with
a painted roof hanging over the windows, and a staircase going up
outside to the garret. With the sun shining in the proper direction,
one might distinguish more, and with love shining like the sun in the
eyes, one might see, one might see--a heart full.

It was only the eyes, however, which could make such a quick voyage to
the Zévérin Theriots; a skiff had a long day's journey to reach them.
The bayou sauntered along over the country like a negro on a Sunday's
pleasuring, trusting to God for time, and to the devil for means.

Oh, nothing can travel quickly over a bayou! Ask any one who has
waited on a bayou-bank for a physician or a life-and-death message.
Thought refuses to travel and turn and double over it; thought, like
the eye, takes the shortest cut--straight over the sea-marsh; and in
the spring of the year, when the lilies are in bloom, thought could