Maula was the first to speak: “Your father and your friend have long been wearing the dress of our country; now we shall see how fair and beautiful you will look when dressed in the costume which nature teaches her children to wear. Your loveliness is obscured by the ugly garments that are put upon you to hinder your movements. When you are dressed as we are, you will be free; you will never wish to again put on those clothes which make you so uncomfortable.” “Well, you see, they do not seem at all uncomfortable to us,” laughed Mabel, “but, as our clothes are completely worn out, we are obliged to dress as you do, and I have no doubt we shall like it, too,” this she added as she noticed a slight frown on Maula’s face. Kaelea took Etta aside and soon arrayed her in the costume. In the meantime, Maula was showing Mabel the mysteries of a Nahua maiden’s toilet. First she placed around her waist a skirt which reached to the knees, being composed of a series of fringes of grass; around her body was wound a length of soft kapa, or tree fibre cloth, in color bright blue, this being passed around the body twice and tied at the side, had both a picturesque and modest effect. Around her neck was hung a necklace of shells, pure white in color, and about the size and shape of a grain of rice; this necklace encircled her throat about twenty times. On her arms were placed shell bracelets, on her ankles the fringe of soft grass. Last of all a sort of chaplet, made of the brightest feathers, which crowned her head. When Maula had placed this upon her shining hair, Mabel stood arrayed for the first time in the native dress which she was hereafter to wear. “I feel so oddly, Maula, with this short skirt,” she said. “You will like the dress, I am sure, when you are used to it,” answered Maula. “There will be no maiden at the feast half as beautiful as yourself, and happy will he be, whom you choose to be your husband.” “Oh, do not think I intend to choose a husband,” quickly answered Mabel, blushing a deep crimson, “I shall not choose a husband.” “No,” queried Maula, “then do you not love your friend Allen?” “No,” came the answer. It was not pleasant to Mabel to be thus questioned, yet she could not resent it, as it was not intended to displease her. “I do not love Allen, and if I did I should not choose him, for in my country the young girls must not choose their husbands, but wait to be asked in marriage by the young men.” “Do you mean you do not love him?” exclaimed Maula. “No, indeed, I do not. Why do you ask?”