“You’re always a sight for anyone to look on with pleasure, Helen Cameron,” said Aunt Alvirah. “And you’re mighty smart in that long coat and cap.”
“And do you put on your coat and bonnet, Aunty,” cried Helen, patting her wrinkled cheek. “I’ve come to take you for a spin. And Ruth, too.”
“There’s Wonota,” suggested Ruth.
“Of course. The princess shall join us,” Helen cried merrily. “Where is she? Tell her to leave her everlasting beadwork long enough to ride in the white man’s motor-car.”
“I suppose,” said Ruth, starting for the stairway, “Wonota must be up in her own room.”
“No, no!” Aunt Alvirah called from her bedroom, to which she had hobbled for her cloak and bonnet. “I was just about to tell you, my pretty. Wonota has gone out.”
“Where did she go?” and Ruth suddenly turned back, and with surprise if not exactly with a feeling of alarm.
“She said she would walk up the road to see her father. She is quite fond of her father, I believe,” added Aunt Alvirah, coming back with her wrap and bonnet. “Of course, Indians have family feelings, if they do seem to hide ’em so well.”
“I am sorry she went out alone,” murmured Ruth.
“Pooh! she isn’t a child. And she’ll not lose her way, that’s sure,” laughed Helen. “Anyway, we’ll overtake her and give her a ride. Chief Totantora, too, if he will deign to step into the white man’s car.”