The sail was hoisted, and the boat shoved off. As the fresh morning
breeze caught the white canvas it seemed to bow a parting salutation.
There was a rosy flash of promise on the water, and as the light craft
darted forward toward the ascending sun, it seemed for a moment uplifted
in its glory.


Miss Portfire kept her word. If thoughtful care and intelligent kindness
could regenerate the Princess, her future was secure. And it really
seemed as if she were for the first time inclined to heed the lessons
of civilization and profit by her new condition. An agreeable change was
first noticed in her appearance. Her lawless hair was caught in a net,
and no longer strayed over her low forehead. Her unstable bust was
stayed and upheld by French corsets; her plantigrade shuffle was limited
by heeled boots. Her dresses were neat and clean, and she wore a double
necklace of glass beads. With this physical improvement there also
seemed some moral awakening. She no longer stole nor lied. With the
possession of personal property came a respect for that of others. With
increased dependence on the word of those about her came a thoughtful
consideration of her own. Intellectually she was still feeble, although
she grappled sturdily with the simple lessons which Miss Portfire set
before her. But her zeal and simple vanity outran her discretion, and
she would often sit for hours with an open book before her, which she
could not read. She was a favorite with the officers at the fort, from
the Major, who shared his daughter's prejudices and often yielded to her
powerful self-will, to the subalterns, who liked her none the less that
their natural enemies, the frontier volunteers, had declared war
against her helpless sisterhood. The only restraint put upon her was the
limitation of her liberty to the enclosure of the fort and parade; and