"The loveliest Indian girl I ever saw," remarked Helene, "is Wanda,
the Algonquin chief's adopted daughter. But this is no news to you, as
I hear that you were quite forcibly struck by her."
Oh, the ambiguities of the English language! There was not a quiver of
an eye-lash, not the slightest curl of the scarlet lips, and the wide
dark eyes were seemingly free from guile; but, nevertheless, Edward
suffered again that vague alarm which had sprung into being at the
gate of "Bellevue."
"I think her very pretty, certainly," he returned, "but I can't say
that I admire her."
"I am surprised at that. Rose told me that she made quite an
impression upon you."
Ought this to be taken literally? The lily-white face was no tell-tale.
Could one so fair be so deceitful? This matter must be further probed.
"The impression was not altogether a pleasant one," he confessed with
a rising flush.
"Not pleasant? You are very hard to please. She is not only remarkably
handsome but she has a vigorous personality--a sort of native force
that is sure to make its mark."
"I fear I am not an admirer of force--that is in a woman.
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