an atmosphere of home at last.

As the horses drew up before the porch the great front door was
noiselessly opened and a lad of seventeen, lithe, clean-limbed,
erect, copper-colored, ran swiftly down the steps, lifted his hat,
smiled, and assisted the ladies to alight. The boy was Indian to
the finger-tips, with that peculiar native polish and courtesy,
that absolute ease of manner and direction of glance, possessed
only by the old-fashioned type of red man of this continent.
The missionary introduced him as "My young friend, the church
interpreter, Mr. George Mansion, who is one of our household."
(Mansion, or "Grand Mansion," is the English meaning of this young
Mohawk's native name.)

The entire personality of the missionary seemed to undergo a change
as his eyes rested on this youth. His hitherto rather stilted
manner relaxed, his eyes softened and glowed, he invited confidence
rather than repelled it; truly his heart was bound up with these
forest people; he fairly exhaled love for them with every breath.
He was a man of marked shyness, and these silent Indians made him
forget this peculiarity of which he was sorrowfully conscious. It
was probably this shyness that caused him to open the door and turn
to his young wife with the ill-selected remark: "Welcome home,
madam."

_Madam_! The little bride was chilled to the heart with the austere
word. She hurried within, followed by her wondering child-sister,
as soon as possible sought her room, then gave way to a storm of
tears.

"Don't mind me, Liddy," she sobbed. "There's nothing wrong; we'll
be happy enough here, only I think I looked for a little--petting."

With a wisdom beyond her years, Lydia did not reply, but went to
the window and gazed absently at the tiny patch of flowers beyond
the door--the two lilac trees in full blossom, the thread of
glistening river, and behind it all, the northern wilderness. Just
below the window stood the missionary and the Indian boy talking
eagerly.

"Isn't George Mansion _splendid_!" said the child.

"You must call him Mr. Mansion; be very careful about the _Mister_,
Liddy dear," said her sister, rising and drying her eyes bravely.
"I have always heard that the Indians treat one just as they are
treated by one. Respect Mr. Mansion, treat him as you would treat a
city gentleman. Be sure he will gauge his deportment by ours. Yes,
dear, he _is_ splendid. I like him already."

"Yes, 'Liza, so do I, and he _is_ a gentlema