Only to think of it, I believe they've never seen men or women with
decent clothes before,--of course the settlers' wives don't dress
much,--and I believe they'd have had everything I possess if you hadn't
come. But they're TOO funny for anything. It was killing to see them put
on my hat wrong side before, and try to make one out of my parasol. But
I like them a great deal better than those gloomy chiefs, and I think I
understand them almost. And do you know, Peter, somehow I seem to have
known them all before. And those dear little papooses, aren't they
ridiculously lovely. I only wish"--she stopped, for Peter had somewhat
hurriedly taken the Indian boy from her arms and restored it to the
frightened mother. A singular change came over her face, and she glanced
at him quickly. But she resumed, with a heightened color, "I like it
ever so much better here than down at the fort. And ever so much better
than New York. I don't wonder that you like them so much, Peter, and
are so devoted to them. Don't be angry, dear, because I let them have
my things; I'm sure I never cared particularly for them, and I think
it would be such fun to dress as they do." Peter remembered keenly his
sudden shock at her precipitate change to bright colors after leaving
her novitiate at the Sacred Heart. "I do hope," she went on eagerly,
"that we are going to stay a long time here."

"We are leaving to-morrow," he said curtly. "I find I have urgent
business at the fort."

And they did leave. None too soon, thought Peter and the Indian agent,
as they glanced at the faces of the dusky chiefs who had gathered around
the cabin. Luckily the presence of their cavalry escort rendered any
outbreak impossible, and the stoical taciturnity of the race kept
Peter from any verbal insult. But Mrs. Lascelles noticed their lowering
dissatisfaction, and her eyes flashed. "I wonder you don't punish them,"