I hope you will
try to persuade them to come here. Give them a glowing account of the
country and the climate, and say I'll not marry till they come to dance
at my wedding. I would not wait for that however, if it were not that
Eve thinks she is a little too young yet, and besides, she has set her
heart on my father being present. I'll explain all that in my letters,
of course, but do you press it on them."

"And be sure you tell the dark-haired pale-face," said Eve, "that
Waboose expects her to come. Give these from her friend Fairhair--she
was fond of calling me Fairhair."

Eve rose as she spoke, and produced a pair of beautiful moccasins, which
had been made and richly ornamented by her own hands. At the same time
she presented the fire-bag to the Indian, adding that she was glad to
have had it so nearly ready when he arrived.

"For whom are these pretty things, my dear?" asked Mrs Liston.

"The fire-bag, mother, is for Big Otter, and the moccasins is--"

"Are, Eve--are--plural you know."

"_Is_," replied Eve, with emphasis, "for my dear friend, Jessie, the
black-haired pale-face."

"Well done, Waboose!" exclaimed Aunt Temple. "I'm glad to see that you
improve under my tuition."

"You _can't_ spoil her," I retorted, quietly.

"Well, my dear," said Mrs Liston, "send a message from me to your
dark-haired pale-face that I shall begin a quilt for her next week."

"I hope she will come to receive it," said Aunt Temple. "Tell her that,
Muxbee, with my love, and add that I hope we shall be good friends when
we meet. Though I doubt it, for I can't bear Highlanders--they're so
dreadfully enthusiastic."

"How much of that message am I to send?" I asked.

"As much as you please. I can trust to your discretion."

That evening I retired to my snug little attic-room earlier than usual,
and, spreading out a large sheet of narrow-ruled foolscap paper before
me, began a letter to my old chum on the banks of lake Wichikagan. I
had much to relate, for much had happened since I had sent off the brief
note by Salamander, and I found it difficult to check my pen when once
it had got into the flow of description and the rush of reminiscence and
the gush of reiterative affection. I had covered the whole of the first
sheet of narrow-ruled foolscap, and got well into the second sheet--
which I had selected unruled, that I might write still more narrowly--
when I heard a gentle tap at the door.

I knew the tap well