WHAT THE SETTING SUN REVEALED
I heard Zura softly singing as she went about her work. She sang more and talked less in the two weeks that followed our Thanksgiving celebration than ever before since I had known her. In that time we had not seen Page. In our one talk of what we had seen in the garden Zura simply remarked that she supposed what we heard Page say meant he dreaded to tell somebody of the loss of his fortune and family. She lightly scoffed at my suggestion of anything more serious. I prayed that might be true, but why his confusion and evasion?
Thoughts of the boy and his secret would have weighed heavily upon me had it not been for my joy in seeing day by day the increasing sweetness and graciousness of my adopted child. Her gentleness of manner and speech often caused me to wonder if she could be the same untamed hoyden of some months ago. Every day I prided myself on my quick understanding of girls, also of the way to rear them. It made me more than happy to see what I was accomplishing with Jane's help. While it was no royal road to peace and happiness which we traveled, for Zura's impatience with the Orient and its ways, her rebellion against the stigma laid upon Eurasians, brought the shadows upon many a day's sunshine, yet, as the time slipped by, there seemed to be a growing contentment. There were fewer references made to a definite return to America. In the prospect of her permanent stay with me, I found great joy.
Her high spirits found expression in her work. Her love of excitement fed on encounters with Ishi and in teasing Jane.
One afternoon she locked the old gardener up in a tea-house till he apologized for some disrespect. She detained him till intense fear of the coming darkness induced him to submit.
One night Jane brought home a long bundle.
"A new dress, Saint Jinny?" asked Zura.
"No, honey, I haven't had a store dress in ten years. One somebody is through with becomes me quite well. These are the models for my hospital."
"You mean plans, don't you? You wouldn't be caught bringing home a model. Models are ladies who would be overcome by the superfluous drapery of a dress. My daddy used them for pictures in his studio. Sit right down here by the fire, Miss Jaygray, and while you dissipate in hot beef tea, I'll give you a lesson on models."
Zura painted so graphically a word picture of her father's studio it made me laugh, for I knew well enough that such clotheless creatures would not be permitted outside the Cannibal islands. The sheriff would take them up.