eary girl. "Oh, George, I am
so happy! _You_ are going to get well, and _they_ have come to us
at last."

"Yes, dear," he replied. Then with a half humorous yet wholly
pathetic smile flitting across his wan face, he added, "And my
mother has a little gift for you." He nodded then towards the
quaint old figure at the further side of the bed. His mother arose,
and, drawing from her bosom a tiny, russet-colored object, laid it
in Lydia's hand. It was a little moccasin, just three and a quarter
inches in length. "Its mate is lost," added the sick man, "but I
wore it as a baby. My mother says it is yours, and should have been
yours all these years."

For a second the two women faced each other, then Lydia sat down
abruptly on the bedside, her arms slipped about the older woman's
shoulders, and her face dropped quickly, heavily--at last on a
mother's breast.

George Mansion sighed in absolute happiness, then closed his eyes
and slept the great, strong, vitalizing sleep of reviving forces.

PART IV.

How closely the years chased one another after this! But many a
happy day within each year found Lydia and her husband's mother
sitting together, hour upon hour, needle in hand, sewing and
harmonizing--the best friends in all the world. It mattered not
that "mother" could not speak one word of English, or that Lydia
never mastered but a half dozen words of Mohawk. These two were
friends in the sweetest sense of the word, and their lives swept
forward in a unison of sympathy that was dear to the heart of the
man who held them as the two most precious beings in all the world.

And with the years came new duties, new responsibilities, new
little babies to love and care for until a family, usually called
"A King's Desire," gathered at their hearthside--four children, the
eldest a boy, the second a girl, then another boy, then another
girl. These children were reared on the strictest lines of both
Indian and English principles. They were taught the legends, the
traditions, the culture and the etiquette of both races to which
they belonged; but above all, their mother instilled into them from
the very cradle that they were of their father's people, not of
hers. Her marriage had made her an Indian by the laws which govern
Canada, as well as by the sympathies and yearnings and affections
of her own heart. When she married George Mansion she had repeated
to him the centuries-old vow of allegiance, "Thy people shall be my
people