rival of this Indian girl at Greyhope. She had always
liked Frank Armour, but this made her angry with him; for, on second
thoughts, she was not more sorry for him and for his people than for
Lali, the wife. She had the true instinct of womanhood, and she supposed
that a heathen like this could have feelings to be hurt and a life to be
wounded as herself or another. At least she saw what was possible in the
future when this Indian girl came to understand her position--only to be
accomplished by contact with the new life, so different from her
past. Both she and Lambert decided that she was very fine-looking, not
withstanding her costume. She was slim and well built, with modest
bust and shapely feet and ankles. Her eyes were large, meditative, and
intelligent, her features distinguished. She was a goodly product of her
race, being descended from a line of chiefs and chieftainesses--broken
only in the case of her grandfather, as has been mentioned. Her hands
(the two kindly inquisitors decided) were almost her best point. They
were perfectly made, slim, yet plump, the fingers tapering, the
wrist supple. Mrs. Townley then and there decided that the girl
had possibilities. But here she was, an Indian, with few signs of
civilisation or of that breeding which seems to white people the only
breeding fit for earth or heaven.

Mrs. Townley did not need Lambert's suggestion that she should try to
approach the girl, make friends with her, and prepare her in some slight
degree for the strange career before her.

Mrs. Townley had an infinite amount of tact. She knew it was best to
approach the attendant first. This she did, and, to the surprise of
other lady-passengers, received no rebuff. Her advance was not, however,
rapid. Mackenzie had had her instructions. When she found that Mrs.
Townley knew Francis Armour and his people, she thawed a little more,
and then, very hesitatingly, she introduced her to the Indian wife. Mrs.
Townley smiled her best--and there were many who knew how attractive
she could be at such a moment. There was a slight pause, in which Lali
looked at her meditatively, earnestly, and then those beautiful wild
fingers glided out, and caught her hand, and held it; but she spoke no
word. She only looked inquiringly, seriously, at her new-found friend,
and presently dropped the blanket away from her, and sat up firmly, as
though she felt she was not altogether an alien now, and had a right to
hold herself proudly