Sansuta, it will be seen, was a coquette, though one through vanity, not vice.
She was innocent as a child, but inordinately vain.
She had grown up without a mother’s care; had been so much thrown upon her own resources; that all her faults were those of an untrained nature.
Her heart was warm, her affection for her father and brother deep and true; but she was too prone to turn from the bright side of life, and tremble at anything with the appearance of dulness.
Differently placed, this Indian maid might have become a heroine. As it was she was nothing but a frivolous child.
With a generous man, her defenceless position would have ensured her safety.
Not thus with Warren Rody.
The son did not belie his father’s nature.
Crookleg had become useful to him in his scheme. This hideous creature proved far more subservient and trustworthy than the defunct Red Wolf, for he was all obsequious obedience.
True, he sometimes glanced askance with an ugly look bent upon his young master, but the look vanished in a hideous grin whenever the latter turned towards him.