"I must be alone," was all that Mrs. Smith-Jones replied. "Please take her away, John. Give her the cabin next to this, and have Marie clothe her properly—Marie's clothes should about fit her." There was more of tired anguish in her voice now than of anger.
Mr. Smith-Jones led Nadara out and summoned Marie, but Nadara upset his plans by announcing that she wished to return to shore.
"She does not like me," she said, nodding toward Mrs. Smith-Jones's cabin, "and I will not stay."
It took John Alden Smith-Jones a long time to persuade the girl to change her mind. He pointed out that his wife was greatly over-wrought by the shock of the news of Waldo's death. He assured Nadara that at heart she was a kindly woman, and that eventually she would regret her attitude toward the girl. And at last Nadara consented to remain aboard the Priscilla. But when Marie would have clothed her in the garments of civilization she absolutely refused—scorning the hideous and uncomfortable clothing.
It was two days before Mrs. Smith-Jones sent for her. When she entered that lady's cabin the latter exclaimed at once against her barbarous attire.
"I gave instructions that Marie should dress you properly," she said. "You are not decently clothed—that bear skin is shocking."
Nadara tossed her head, and her eyes flashed fire.
"I shall never wear your silly clothes," she cried. "This, Thandar gave me—he slew Nagoola, the black panther, with his own hands, and gave the skin to me who was to be his mate—do you think I would exchange it for such foolish garments as those?" and she waved a contemptuous gesture toward Mrs. Smith-Jones's expensive morning gown.
The elder woman forgot her outraged dignity in the suggestion the girl had given her for an excuse to be rid of her at the first opportunity. She had mentioned a party named Thandar. She had brazenly boasted that this Thandar had killed the beast whose pelt she wore and given her the thing for a garment. She had admitted that she was to become this person's "mate." Mrs. Smith-Jones shuddered at the primitive word. At this moment Mr. Smith-Jones entered the cabin. He smiled pleasantly at Nadara, and then, seeing in the attitudes of the two women that he had stepped within a theater of war, he looked questioningly at his wife.
"Now what, Louisa?" he asked, somewhat sharply.