aces of six matrons of
society's finest-sifted under similar conditions.

Colonel Landcraft led his party across the meadow, entirely
unconscious of the cold disdain of the people whom he looked down upon
from his superior heights. He could not have understood if any there
had felt the trespass from the Indians' side--and there was one, very
near and dear to the colonel who felt it so--and attempted to explain.
The colonel very likely would have puffed up with military consequence
almost to the bursting-point.

Feeling, delicacy, in those smeared, smelling creatures! Surliness in
excess they might have, but dignity, not at all. Were they not there
as beggars to receive bounty from the government's hand?

"Oh, there's Mrs. Mathews!" said Nola, with the eagerness of a child
who has found a quail's nest in the grass. She was off at an angle,
like a hunter on the scent. Colonel Landcraft and his guest followed
with equal rude eagerness, and the others swept after them, Frances
alone hanging back. Major King was at Nola's side. If he noted the
lagging of his fiancee he did not heed.

The minister's wife, a shawl over her head, her braided hair in front
of her shoulders like an Indian woman, rose from her place in startled
confusion. She looked as if she would have fled if an avenue had been
open, or a refuge presented. The embarrassed creature was obliged to
stand in their curious eyes, and stammer in a tongue which seemed to
be growing strange to her from its uncommon use.

She was a short woman, growing heavy and shapeless now, and there was
gray in her black hair. Her skin was browned by sun, wind, and smoke
to the hue of her poor neighbors and friends. When she spoke in reply
to the questions which poured upon her, she bent her head like a timid
girl.

Frances checked her horse and remained behind, out of range of
hearing. She was cut to the heart with shame for her companions, and
her cheek burned with the indignation that she suffered with the
harried woman in their midst. A little Indian girl came flying past,
ducking and dashing under the neck of Frances' horse, in pursuit of a
piece of paper which the wind whirled ahead of her. At Frances'
stirrup she caught it, and held it up with a smile.

"Did you lose this, lady?" she asked, in the very best of mission
English.

"No," said Frances, bending over to see what it might be. The little
girl placed it in her hand and scurried away again to a beckoning
woman,