Aunt Wealthy was busied with her candle moulds in one corner of the kitchen; putting in the wicks. "So that question's settled," she said in an aside to her niece; "and I think you have done wisely, Marcia." The faces that surrounded the dinner-table that day were a study. Those of Miss Stanhope and Mrs. Keith wore their usual placid expression, but Mildred's was flushed and angry, Rupert's full of astonishment, reflected to some extent by the younger ones, while that of the new comer expressed self-assertion and defiance. Mr. Keith glanced quizzically from one to another for a moment. Then gave his attention to filling the plates; talking at the same time in a cheerful strain. "I have found a lot, wife, which I think will suit us for building on. If nobody feels too tired for a walk after tea we will all go and look at it. It is to be for the family, and the family must decide as to its merits." This turned the current of thought and all the young people grew eager and animated. It was quite evident that no one intended to be too much fatigued to be of the party of inspection. In the midst of the talk a low, half-terrified exclamation from Fan drew the attention of all, and following the direction of her glance they saw a tall Indian in the doorway, while beyond in the street, were many others, some on foot, some on horseback, some in the act of dismounting. They were of both sexes and all ages; the papooses tied into little wooden troughs which the mothers stood up on end on the ground. The babies were very quiet, not a whimper to be heard from any of them; though they were deprived of the use of their hands--their clothing being a straight strip of cloth folded around their bodies in such a way as to pin their poor little arms down to their sides--and had nothing to amuse them but a string of tiny bells stretched across the trough in front of their faces. "Ugh!" said the Indian on the doorstep, "shawp!" and he pointed from a basket of berries his squaw had set down beside him to the loaf on the table. "Oh do let's give it to 'im! no knowin' what 'e'll do if we don't!" cried Viny in a fright. "It will be a good enough exchange," said Mr. Keith, taking the loaf and handing it to the Indian. "Bring a pan for the berries." The Indian passed the loaf on to his squaw with a grunt of satisfaction, poured a quart or so of berries into the pan Viny had hastened to bring, then again pointed to the table. "What now?" asked Mr. Keith, good-humoredly. The Indian replied by a gesture as if lifting a cup to his lips; and Mildred saying, "He's thirsty," hastened to pour out a tumbler of milk and hand it to him. He drank it, returned the glass with a nod of thanks and walked away. "I'll just run hout and water 'em hall," said Viny, hurrying into the kitchen for a bucket and tin cup, "it's always best to keep on the good side of 'em, folks tell me, if you don't want to run no risk of losin' the 'air hoff yer 'ead."