〃She！〃　　The　emphasis　which　his　sister　put　upon　the　personal　pronoun
  was　unmistakable；　but　Peter　ignored　it；　and　so　apparently　did　she；
  as　she　said　the　next　moment　in　a　different　voice；　〃She's　very
  pretty；　don't　you　think？〃
  〃Very；〃　said　Peter　coldly。
  There　was　a　long　pause。　　Peter　slightly　fingered　one　of　the　sheets
  of　his　delayed　report　on　his　desk。　　His　sister　looked　up。　　〃I'm
  afraid　I'm　as　bad　as　Lady　Elfrida　in　keeping　you　from　your　Indians；
  but　I　had　something　to　say　to　you。　　No　matter；　another　time　will　do
  when　you're　not　so　busy。〃
  〃Please　go　on　now；〃　said　Peter；　with　affected　unconcern；　yet　with　a
  feeling　of　uneasiness　creeping　over　him。
  〃It　was　only　this；〃　said　Jenny；　seating　herself　with　her　elbow　on
  the　desk　and　her　chin　in　a　cup…like　hollow　of　her　hand；　〃did　you
  ever　think　that　in　the　interests　of　these　poor　Indians；　you　know；
  purely　for　the　sake　of　your　belief　in　them；　and　just　to　show　that
  you　were　above　vulgar　prejudices；did　you　ever　think　you　could
  marry　one　of　them？〃
  Two　thoughts　flashed　quickly　on　Peter's　mind；first；　that　Lady
  Elfrida　had　repeated　something　of　their　conversation　to　his　sister；
  secondly；　that　some　one　had　told　her　of　Little　Daybreak。　　Each　was
  equally　disturbing。　　But　he　recovered　himself　quickly　and　said；　〃I
  might　if　I　thought　it　was　required。　　But　even　a　sacrifice　is　not
  always　an　example。〃
  〃Then　you　think　it　would　be　a　sacrifice？〃　she　said；　slowly　raising
  her　dark　eyes　to　his。
  〃If　I　did　something　against　received　opinion；　against　precedent；
  and　for　aught　I　know　against　even　the　prejudices　of　those　I　wish　to
  serve；　however　lofty　my　intention　was　and　however　great　the　benefit
  to　them　in　the　end；　it　would　still　be　a　sacrifice　in　the　present。〃
  He　saw　his　own　miserable　logic　and　affected　didactics；　but　he　went
  on　lightly；　〃But　why　do　you　ask　such　a　question？　　You　haven't　any
  one　in　your　mind　for　me；　have　you？〃
  She　had　risen　thoughtfully　and　was　moving　towards　the　door。
  Suddenly　she　turned　with　a　quick；　odd　vivacity：　〃Perhaps　I　had。
  Oh；　Peter；　there　was　such　a　lovely　little　squaw　I　saw　the　last　time
  I　was　at　Oak　Bottom！　　She　was　no　darker　than　I　am；　but　so
  beautiful。　　Even　in　her　little　cotton　gown　and　blanket；　with　only　a
  string　of　beads　around　her　throat；　she　was　as　pretty　as　any　one
  here。　　And　I　dare　say　she　could　be　educated　and　appear　as　well　as
  any　white　woman。　　I　should　so　like　to　have　you　see　her。　　I　would
  have　tried　to　bring　her　to　the　fort；　but　the　braves　are　very
  jealous　of　their　wives　or　daughters　seeing　white　men；　you　know；　and
  I　was　afraid　of　the　colonel。〃
  She　had　spoken　volubly　and　with　a　strange　excitement；　but　even　at
  the　moment　her　face　changed　again；　and　as　she　left　the　office；　with
  a　quick　laugh　and　parting　gesture；　there　were　tears　in　her　eyes。
  Accustomed　to　her　moods　and　caprices；　Peter　thought　little　of　the
  intrusion；　relieved　as　he　was　of　his　first　fears。　　She　had　come　to
  him　from　loneliness　and　curiosity；　and；　perhaps；　he　thought　with　a
  sad　smile；　from　a　little　sisterly　jealousy　of　the　young　girl　who
  had　evinced　such　an　interest　in　him；　and　had　known　him　before。　　He
  took　up　his　pen　and　continued　the　interrupted　paragraph　of　his
  report。
  〃I　am　satisfied　that　much　of　the　mischievous　and　extravagant
  prejudice　against　the　half　breed　and　all　alliances　of　the　white　and
  red　races　springs　from　the　ignorance　of　the　frontiersman　and　his
  hasty　generalization　of　facts。　　There　is　no　doubt　that　an
  intermixture　of　blood　brings　out　purely　superficial　contrasts　the
  more　strongly；　and　that　against　the　civilizing　habits　and　even
  costumes　of　the　half　breed；　certain　Indian　defects　appear　the　more
  strongly　as　in　the　case　of　the　color　line　of　the　quadroon　and
  octoroon；　but　it　must　not　be　forgotten　that　these　are　only　the
  contrasts　of　specific　improvement；　and　the　inference　that　the
  borrowed　defects　of　a　half　breed　exceed　the　original　defects　of　the
  full…blooded　aborigine　is　utterly　illogical。〃　　He　stopped　suddenly
  and　laid　down　his　pen　with　a　heightened　color；　the　bugle　had　blown；
  the　guard　was　turning　out　to　receive　the　commandant　and　his
  returning　party；　among　whom　was　Friddy。
  。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。　　　　　　　　。
  Through　the　illusions　of　depression　and　distance　the　〃sink〃　of
  Butternut　Creek　seemed　only　an　incrustation　of　blackish　moss　on　the
  dull　gray　plain。　　It　was　not　until　one　approached　within　half　a
  mile　of　it　that　it　resolved　itself　into　a　copse　of　butternut…trees
  sunken　below　the　distant　levels。　　Here　once；　in　geological　story；
  the　waters　of　Butternut　Creek；　despairing　of　ever　crossing　the
  leagues　of　arid　waste　before　them；　had　suddenly　disappeared　in　the
  providential　interposition　of　an　area　of　looser　soil；　and　so　given
  up　the　effort　and　the　ghost　forever；　their　grave　being　marked　by
  the　butternut　copse；　chance…sown　by　bird　or　beast　in　the　saturated
  ground。　　In　Indian　legend　the　〃sink〃　commemorated　the　equally
  providential　escape　of　a　great　tribe　who；　surrounded　by　enemies；
  appealed　to　the　Great　Spirit　for　protection；　and　was　promptly
  conveyed　by　subterraneous　passages　to　the　banks　of　the　Great　River
  a　hundred　miles　away。　　Its　outer　edges　were　already　invaded　by　the
  dust　of　the　plain；　but　within　them　ran　cool　recesses；　a　few
  openings；　and　the　ashes　of　some　long…forgotten　camp…fires。　　To…day
  its　sombre　shadows　were　relieved　by　bright　colored　dresses；　the
  jackets　of　the　drivers　of　a　large　sutler's　wagon；　whose　white
  canvas　head　marked　the　entrance　of　the　copse；　and　all　the
  paraphernalia　of　a　picnic。　　It　was　a　party　gotten　up　by　the　foreign
  guests　to　the　ladies　of　the　fort；　prepared　and　arranged　by　the
  active　Lady　Elfrida；　assisted　by　the　only　gentleman　of　the　party；
  Peter　Atherly；　who；　from　his　acquaintance　with　the　locality；　was
  allowed　to　accompany　them。　　The　other　gentlemen；　who　with　a　large
  party　of　officers　and　soldiers　were　shooting　in　the　vicinity；　were
  sufficiently　near　for　protection。　　They　would　rejoin　the　ladies
  later。
  〃It　does　not　seem　in　the　least　as　if　we　were　miles　away　from　any
  town　or　habitation；〃　said　Lady　Runnybroke；　complacently　seating
  herself　on　a　stump；　〃and　I　shouldn't　be　surprised　to　see　a　church
  tower　through　those　trees。　　It's　very　like　the　hazel　copse　at
  Longworth；　you　know。　　Not　at　all　what　I　expected。〃
  〃For　the　matter　of　that　neither　are　the　Indians；〃　said　the　Hon。
  Evelyn　Rayne。　　〃Did　you　ever　see　such　grotesque　creatures　in　their
  cast…off　boots　and　trousers？　　They're　no　better　than　gypsies。　　I
  wonder　what　Mr。　Atherly　can　find　in　them。〃
  〃And　he　a　rich　man；　too；they　say　he's　got　a　mine　in　California
  worth　a　million；to　take　up　a　craze　like　this；〃　added　the　lively
  Mrs。　Captain　Joyce；　〃that's　what　gets　me！　　You　know；〃　she　went　on
  confidentially；　〃that　cranks　and　reformers　are　always　poorit's
  quite　natural；　but　I　don't　see　what　he；　a　rich　man；　expects　to　make
  by　his　reforms；　I'm　sure。〃
  〃He'll　get　over　it　in　time；〃　said　the　Hon。　Evelyn　Kayne；　〃they　all
  do。　　At　least　he　expects　to　get　the　reforms　he　wants　in　a　year；　and
  then　he's　coming　over　to　England　again。〃
  〃Indeed；　how　very　nice；〃　responded　Lady　Runnybroke　quickly。　　〃Did
  he　say　so？〃
  〃No。　　But　Friddy　says　he　is。〃
  The　two　officers'　wives　glanced　at　each　other。　　Lady　Runnybroke　put
  up　her　eyeglass　in　default　of　ostrich　feathers；　and　said
  didactically；　〃I'm　sure　Mr。　Atherly　is　very　much　in　earnest；　and
  sincerely　devoted　to　his　work。　　And　in　a　man　of　his　wealth　and
  position　here　it's　most　estimable。　　My　dear；〃　she　said；　getting　up
  and　moving　towards　Mrs。　Lascelles；　〃we　were　just　saying　how　good
  and　unselfish　your　brother　was　in　his　work　for　these　poor　people。〃
  But　Jenny　Lascelles　must　have　been　in　one　of　those　abstracted　moods
  which　so　troubled　her　husband；　for　she　seemed　to　be　staring
  straight　before　her　into　the　recesses　of　the　wood。　　In　her　there
  was　a　certain　resemblance　to　the　attitude　of　a　listening　animal。
  〃I　wish　Mr。　Atherly　was　a　little　more　unselfish　to　US　poor　people；〃
  said　the　Hon。　Evelyn　Kayne；　〃for　he　and　Friddy　have　been　nearly　an
  hour　looking　for　a　place　to　spread　our　luncheon　baskets。　　I　wish
  they'd　leave　the　future　of　the　brown　races　to　look　after　itself　and
  look　a　little　more　after　us。　　I'm　famished。〃
  〃I　fancy　they　find　it　difficult　to　select　a　clear　space　for　so
  large　a　party　as　we　will　be　when　the　gentlemen　come　in；〃　returned
  Lady　Runnybroke；　glancing　in　the　direction　of　Jenny's　abstracted
  eyes。
  〃I　suppose　you　must　feel　like　chicken　and　salad；　too；　Lady
  Runnybroke；〃　suggested　Mrs。　Captain　Joyce。
  〃I　don't　think　I　quite　know　HOW　chicken　and　salad　feel；　dear；〃　said
  Lady　Runnybroke　with　a　puzzled　air；　〃but　if　that's　one　of　your
  husband's　delightful　American　stories；　do　tell　us。　　I　never　CAN　get
  Runnybroke　to　tell　me　any；　although　he　roars　over　them　all。　　And　I
  dare　say　he　gets　them　all　wrong。　　But　look；　here　comes　our　luncheon。〃
  Peter　and　Lady　Elfrida　were　a