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When Wilderness Was King - A Tale of the Illinois Country by Randall Parrish
page 59 of 326 (18%)

My frankness pleased her, and she made no attempt to disguise her
interest.

"I am so glad you told me," she said simply. "My mother died when I
was only ten, yet her memory has always been an inspiration. Are you a
Protestant?"

This unexpected question took me by surprise; yet I answered
unhesitatingly, "Yes."

"I was educated at the Ursuline Convent in Montreal. It was my
mother's dearest wish that I should take the vows of that order, but I
fear I am far too frivolous for so serious a life. I love happy things
too well, and the beautiful outside world of men and women. I ran away
from the Sisters, and then my father and I voyaged to this country,
where we might lead a freer life together."

"Here?" and I glanced questioningly about me into those darkening
shadows which were momentarily hemming us in more closely.

"To Fort Dearborn," she explained. "We came by boat through the
straits at the north; and 'twas a trip to remember. My father brought
out goods from Canada, and traded with the Indians. I have been in
their villages. Once I was a week alone with a tribe of Sacs near
Green Bay, and they called me the White Queen. I have met many famous
warriors of the Wyandots and Pottawattomies, and have seen them dance
at their council. Once I journeyed as far west as the Great River,
across leagues and leagues of prairie," and her face lighted up at the
remembrance. "Father said he thought I must be the first white woman
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