ook at the thick, bright hair. She
started to brew tea.

"Don't be mad wit' me for 'cause I laugh," she said cajolingly. "Some
tam, maybe, I fall in water. I let you laugh all you want."

He looked at her startled. He dared not glance forward at any future
with her. Nevertheless, in spite of himself, he was relenting. He
would have relented quicker had she not continually put him out of
conceit with himself by making him blush. Naturally, he blamed her for
that.

Meanwhile there was delicious bodily comfort in sitting under shelter
of the willows, warmed on the outside by the generous sunshine and the
crackling fire, and made all mellow within by hot tea. The corners of
his mouth began to turn up.

His curiosity concerning her was still active. Remembering something
she had said before, he asked: "Who is Musgooses?"

She smiled at his pronunciation.

"Musq'oosis," she corrected. "That name mean little bear. He is my
friend. He friend to my fat'er, too. He is little. Got crooked back.
Know everything."

"Where do you live, Bela?" he asked.

"Over the lake by Hah-wah-sepi," she answered readily. On second
thought, she corrected the statement. "No; before I am live there. My
mot'er live there. Now I live where I am. Got no home. Got no people."

"But if your mother lives there, that's your home, isn't it?" said Sam
the respectable.

Bela shrugged. "She got stay wit' her 'osban'," she replied. "He no
good. He w'at you call 'obo!"

"What did you leave for?" asked Sam.

She frowned at the difficulty of explaining this in English. "Those
people are poor an' foolish, an' dirty people," she said. "They not
lak me ver' moch. I not lak them ver' moch. Only my mot'er. But I am
live there before for 'cause I not know not'ing. Well, one day I hit
my fat'er wit' a stick--no, hit my mot'er's 'osban' wit' a stick. So
my mot'er tell me my fat'er a white man. Her fat'er white man, too. So
I mos' white. So I go 'way from those people."

"But you've got to have some home--somebody to live with!" said Sam
anxiously.

She glanced at him through her lashes. She shrugged. "Musq'oosis tell
me what to do," she said simply. "He is my friend."

Sam in his concern for her situation forgot himself.

"I--I'd like to be your friend, too," he stammered.

Bela smiled at him dazzlingly. "I lak hear you say that," she returned
simply.

They fell silent, mutually embarrassed, but not unhappy. There was
something both delightful and