new shapes, nay, the very soil smelled foreign,
and the water tasted savorless as the mist of pine barrens in February.

Still, my Maker had set eyes in my head and given me a nose to sniff
with; and I was learning every moment, tasting, smelling, touching,
listening, asking questions unashamed; and my cousin Dorothy seemed
never to tire in aiding me, nor did her eager delight and sympathy
abate one jot.

Dressed in full deer-skin as was I, she rode her horse astride with a
grace as perfect as it was unstudied and unconscious, neither affecting
the slothful carriage of our Southern saddle-masters nor the dragoons'
rigid seat, but sat at ease, hollow-backed, loose-thighed, free-reined
and free-stirruped.

Her hair, gathered into a golden club at the nape of the neck, glittered
in the sun, her eyes deepened like the violet depths of mid-heaven.
Already the sun had lent her a delicate, creamy mask, golden on her
temples where the hair grew paler; and I thought I had never seen such
wholesome sweetness and beauty in any living being.

We now rode through a vast flat land of willows, headed due north once
more, and I saw a little river which twisted a hundred times upon itself
like a stricken snake, winding its shimmering coils out and in through
woodland, willow-flat, and reedy marsh.

"The Kennyetto," said Dorothy, "flowing out of the great Vlaie to empty
its waters close to its source after a circle of half a hundred miles.
Yonder lies the Vlaie--it is that immense flat country of lake and marsh
and forest which is wedged in just south of the mountain-gap where the
last of the Adirondacks split into the Mayfield hills and the long, low
spurs rolling away to the southeast. Sir William Johnson had a lodge
there at Summer-house Point. Since his death Sir George Covert has
leased it from Sir John. That is our trysting-place."

To hear Sir George's name now vaguely disturbed me, yet I could not
think why, for I admired and liked him. But at the bare mention of his
name a dull uneasiness came over me and I turned impatiently to my
cousin as though the irritation had come from her and she must
explain it.

"What is it?" she inquired, faintly smiling.

"I asked no question," I muttered.

"I thought you meant to speak, cousin."

I had meant to say something. I did not know what.

"You seem to know when I am about to speak," I said; "that is twice you
have responded to my unasked questions."

"I know it," she said,