"It's Jim coming with the mail," cried Marjorie joyfully; "I should know his voice anywhere, and that's his favorite song. Oh, I wonder if there will be an answer to Father's letter to Miss Brent. What's the matter, Undine?"
For Undine, who was still standing by Miss Graham's chair, had suddenly grown pale, and a strange, startled expression had come into her face.
"Who's Jim?" she demanded sharply.
"Only one of Father's men. He used to be a cow-puncher in Texas. I think you must have seen him; he's about the ranch a good deal."
The hoof-beats were drawing nearer, and the rider had begun another verse of his song.
"'Er petticoat was yaller,
An' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supy Yawler,
Jes' the same as Thebaw's queen.'"
"I know that song," cried Undine excitedly, clasping and unclasping her hands, and she began reciting in a dreamy, far-away voice:
"'An' I see 'er first a smokin'
Of a whackin' big sheroot,
An' wastin' Christian kisses
On a 'eathen idol's foot.'
"Somebody used to sing it. Who was it? Oh, tell me quick; I must remember, I must, I must!"
She turned imploringly to Miss Graham and Marjorie, but the two blank, puzzled faces gave her no help, and with a low cry, the poor child covered her face with her hands, and began to sob. Marjorie's kind arms were round her friend in a moment, but it was no easy task to stem the torrent of Undine's grief.