“You said you had something to talk to me about. What was it?”
“You don’t know how glad I am to hear you speak as you used to,” he said, looking at her kindly. “I would be rejoiced even to get a scolding from you these days. But that was not exactly what I brought you out to tell you, either,” and he drew from his pocket the letter he had carried for three weeks, waiting until she appeared strong enough to accept surprises. “I suppose, of course, you have heard us talk a good deal about the Eastern capitalist who was here when you were so sick, and who, unhesitatingly, made purchase of the Twin Spring Mines, as it is called now.”
“You mean the very fine Mr. Haydon, who had curly hair and looked like me?” she asked, ironically. “Yes, I’ve heard the women folks talking about him a good deal, when they thought me asleep. Old Akkomi scared him a little, too, didn’t he?”
“So, you have heard?” he asked, in surprise. “Well, yes, he does look a little like you; it’s the hair, I think. But I don’t see why you utter his name with so much contempt, ’Tana.”
“Maybe not; but I’ve heard the name of Haydon before to-day, and I have a grudge against it.”
“But not this Haydon.”
“I don’t know which Haydon. I never saw any of 237 them—don’t know as I want to. I guess this one is almost too fine for Kootenai country people, anyway.”
“But that is where you are wrong, entirely wrong, ’Tana,” he hastened to explain. “He was very much interested in you—very much, indeed; asked lots of questions about you, and—and here is what I wanted to speak of. When he went away, he gave me this letter for you. I imagine he wants to help make arrangements for you when you go East, have you know nice people and all that. You see, ’Tana, his daughter is about your age, and looks just a little as you do sometimes; and I think he wants to do something for you. It’s an odd thing for him to take so strong an interest in any stranger; but they are the very best people you could possibly know if you go to Philadelphia.”
“Maybe if you would let me see the letter myself, I could tell better whether I wanted to know them or not,” she said, and Lyster handed it to her without another word.
It was a rather long letter, two closely-written sheets, and he could not understand the little contemptuous smile with which she opened it. Haydon, the great financier, had seemed to him a very wonderful personage when he was ’Tana’s age.