“You act with the charm of a child, but you talk like a grown-up woman. Are all the girls of your family equally clever?”
“God never made two trees, or even two leaves of a tree, exactly alike. You couldn’t expect two persons to be alike.”
The stranger, conscious of a peculiar interest in this new and original character, felt a tumultuous sensation in the region of his heart.
“I am hungry, sir. But as I haven’t any money, I must ask you to trust me till to-morrow.”
He was leading her toward his dugout as they talked, or rather as he listened. He had a school-day remembrance of a pair of brown eyes like Jean’s. He had worshipped those eyes from a distance, for their possessor was a nobleman’s daughter with whom he had never exchanged sentiments, and she had never bestowed a thought upon him. And here was this artless, untaught, but wonderfully intelligent maiden, in a travel-soiled blue calico dress, and sunbonnet to match, who seemed to him possessed of potentialities so far in advance of any promise ever given by the object of his earlier dreams that he spurned the thought of comparing the two as he dwelt upon her words. His heart continued its wild tattoo, and he felt as if walking on air.
“Here! This way, Siwash,” he called to his Indian servant, as he paused in front of his lodgings and tendered her a seat outside. “As you see, I have company. Get up the very best meal the place affords. This guest and I are to dine together.”
The Indian grunted assent; and the simple meal of pemmican, black coffee, army biscuit, and baked beans fresh from the covering of hot ashes in which they had been smothered till done to a turn, which formed the ferryman’s usual bill of fare, was supplemented by a dessert of tea-cakes and preserved ginger, the whole arranged on a small table covered with a white oilcloth and furnished with tin dishes and steel cutlery.
“I trust you will excuse the accompaniments of a higher civilization, little miss. You will find the fare plain but palatable.”
“It is fine,” cried Jean, as she ate with the zest that a life in the open air alone can give. “Nobody need ask for better.”
“Will you favor me with your past history?” asked her host, after the repast was finished.