ng to yellow, or rather to that exquisite shade of
buff to be seen in the new bark of the madrono. Her face was oval, and
her mouth small and childlike, with little to suggest the aboriginal
type in her other features.

The master's questions elicited from the child the fact that she could
read and write, that she knew her "Hail Mary" and creed (happily the
Protestant Mrs. Hoover was unable to follow this questioning), but he
also elicited the more disturbing fact that her replies and confidences
suggested a certain familiarity and equality of condition which he could
only set down to his own youthfulness of appearance. He was apprehensive
that she might even make some remark regarding Mrs. Hoover, and was not
sorry that the latter did not understand Spanish. But before he left he
managed to speak with Mrs. Hoover alone and suggested a change in
the costume of the pupil when she came to school. "The better she is
dressed," suggested the wily young diplomat, "the less likely is she to
awaken any suspicion of her race."

"Now that's jest what's botherin' me, Mr. Brooks," returned Mrs. Hoover,
with a troubled face, "for you see she is a growin' girl," and she
concluded, with some embarrassment, "I can't quite make up my mind how
to dress her."

"How old is she?" asked the master abruptly.

"Goin' on twelve, but,"--and Mrs. Hoover again hesitated.

"Why, two of my scholars, the Bromly girls, are over fourteen," said the
master, "and you know how they are dressed;" but here he hesitated in
his turn. It had just occurred to him that the little waif was from the
extreme South, and the precocious maturity of the mixed races there was
well known. He even remembered, to his alarm, to have seen brides of
twelve and mothers of fourteen among the native villagers. This might
also account for the suggestion of equality in her manner, and even for
a slight coquettishness which he thought he had noticed in her when
he had addressed her playfully as a muchacha. "I should dress her in
something Spanish," he said hurriedly, "something white, you know, with
plenty of flounces and a little black lace, or a black silk skirt and
a lace scarf, you know. She'll be all right if you don't make her look
like a servant or a dependent," he added, with a show of confidence he
was far from feeling. "But you haven't told me her name," he concluded.

"As we're reckonin' to adopt her," said Mrs. Hoover gravely, "you'll
give her ours."

"But I can