as she was,
having drawn back as far as she could, till the table checked her.
Burrell, however, was not laughing, nor smiling even, for his
embarrassment rivalled hers.

"I was looking for your father," he said, wondering if this glorious
thing could be the quaint half-breed girl of yesterday. There was
nothing of the native about her now, for her lithe young figure was
drawn up to its height, and her head, upon which the long, black braids
were coiled, was tipped back in a haughty poise. She had flung her
hands out to grasp the table edge behind her, forgetful of her shawl,
which drooped traitorously and showed such rounded lines as her
ordinary dress scarce hinted at. This was no Indian maid, the soldier
vowed; no blood but the purest could pulse in such veins, no spirit
save the highest could flash in such eyes as these. A jealous rancor
irked him at the thought of this beauty intended for the Frenchman's
eyes.

"Can't you show yourself to me as well as to Poleon?" he said.

"Certainly not!" she declared. "He bought this dress for me, and I put
it on to please him." Now she was herself again, for some note in the
Lieutenant's voice gave her dominance over him. "After he sees it I
will take it off, and--"

"Don't--don't take it off--ever," said Burrell. "I thought you were
beautiful before, because of your quaintness and simplicity, but now--"
his chest swelled--"why, this is a breath from home. You're like my
sister and the girls back in Kentucky, only more wonderful."

"Am I?" she cried, eagerly. "Am I like other girls? Do I really look as
if I'd always worn clothes like these?"

"Born to them," said he.

A smile broke over her grave face, assuming a hundred different shades
of pleasure and making a child of her on the instant; all her reserve
and hauteur vanished. Her warmth and unaffected frankness suffused him,
as she stood out, turning to show the beauties of her gown, her brown
hands fluttering tremulously as she talked.

"It's my first party-dress, you know, and I'm as proud of it as Molly
is of her rubber boots. It's too big in here and too small right there;
that girl must have had a bad chest; but otherwise it fits me as if it
had been made for me, doesn't it? And the shoes! Aren't they the
dearest things? See." She held her skirts back, showing her two feet
side by side, her dainty ankles slim and shapely in their silk.

"They won't shed water," he said.

"I know; and look at the heels. I co