ar," repeated her mother ceremoniously, "this is your
brother's wife.--Lali, this is your husband's sister, Marion."

Mackenzie translated the words swiftly to the girl, and her eyes flashed
wide. Then in a low voice she said in English: "Yes, Marion, How!"

It is probable that neither Marion nor any one present knew quite the
meaning of 'How', save Richard, and he could not suppress a smile, it
sounded so absurd and aboriginal. But at this exclamation Marion once
more came to herself. She could not possibly go so far as her mother did
at the dock and kiss this savage, but, with a rather sudden grasp of
the hand, she said, a little hysterically, for her brain was going round
like a wheel,--"Wo-won't you let me take your blanket?" and forthwith
laid hold of it with tremulous politeness.

The question sounded, for the instant, so ludicrous to Richard that, in
spite of the distressing situation, he had to choke back a laugh. Years
afterwards, if he wished for any momentary revenge upon Marion (and he
had a keen sense of wordy retaliation), he simply said: "Wo-won't you
let me take your blanket?"

Of course the Indian girl did not understand, but she submitted to the
removal of this uncommon mantle, and stood forth a less trying sight
to Marion's eyes; for, as we said before, her buckskin costume set off
softly the good outlines of her form.

The Indian girl's eyes wandered from Marion to Richard. They wandered
from anxiety, doubt, and a bitter kind of reserve, to cordiality,
sympathy, and a grave kind of humour. Instantly the girl knew that she
had in eccentric Richard Armour a frank friend. Unlike as he was to
his brother, there was still in their eyes the same friendliness and
humanity. That is, it was the same look that Frank carried when he first
came to her father's lodge.

Richard held out his hand with a cordial little laugh and said: "Ah, ah,
very glad, very glad! Just in time for supper. Come along. How is Frank,
eh? how is Frank? Just so; just so. Pleasant journey, I suppose?" He
shook her hand warmly three or four times, and, as he held it, placed
his left hand over it and patted it patriarchally, as was his custom
with all the children and all the old ladies that he knew.

"Richard," said his mother, in a studiously neutral voice, "you might
see about the wine."

Then Richard appeared to recover himself, and did as he was requested,
but not until his brother's wife had said to him in English, as they
c