"And the Strawberry shall never want friends or a home while we can offer her one, Malachi," said Mrs Campbell; "let what will happen to you, she will be welcome to live here and die here, if she will remain." Malachi made no reply; he was in deep thought, resting his chin upon his hands which held his rifle before him. Mrs Campbell and the girls were obliged to leave to prepare the dinner. John had sat down with the Strawberry and the Indian woman, and was listening to them, for he now understood the Chippeway tongue. Alfred, Sinclair, and the other gentlemen of the party, were in conversation near the fire, when they were requested by Mrs Campbell to retreat to the sitting-room, that the culinary operations might not be interfered with. Malachi Bone still continued sitting where he was, in deep thought. Martin, who remained, said to the Misses Percival in a low voice-- "Well, I really did think that the old man had married the girl, and I thought it was a pity," continued he, looking towards the Strawberry, "for she is very young and very handsome for a squaw." "I think," replied Mary Percival, "she would be considered handsome everywhere, Martin, squaw or not; her features are very pretty, and then she has a melancholy smile, which is perfectly beautiful; but now, Martin, pluck these turkeys, or we shall not have them ready in time." As soon as the dinner was at the fire, and could be left to the care of Martin, Mrs Campbell and the Misses Percival went into the sitting-room. Mr Campbell then read the morning service of the day, Henry officiating as clerk in the responses. Old Malachi had joined the party, and was profoundly attentive. As soon as the service was over, he said-- "All this puts me in mind of days long past, days which appear to me as a dream, when I was a lad and had a father and a mother, and brothers and sisters around me; but many summers and many winters have passed over my head since then." "You were born in Maine, Malachi, were you not?" "Yes, ma'am, half-way up the White Mountains. He was a stern old man, my father; but he was a righteous man. I remember how holy Sunday was kept in our family; how my mother cleaned us all, and put on our best clothes, and how we went to the chapel or church, I forget which they called it; but no matter, we went to pray." "Was your father of the Established Church, Malachi?" "I can't tell, ma'am; indeed, I hardly know what it means; but he was a good Christian and a good man, that I do know."