As warm weather approached, the children grew restless under so much schooling, and Robert made Saturday a holiday. In order to help his uncle more efficiently, he was trying to learn the Indian tongue, but found it far more difficult than Greek and Latin, and made many ludicrous mistakes. Mackenzie was very patient with him, and Black Partridge made occasional comments and suggestions, being deeply flattered by the college man's desire to learn from him. The trader had told him of the great school in the East, where Forsyth had learned everything that was written down in books, and yet could not talk with the Indians, or make a fire by rubbing sticks together; and the implied superiority of the chief had its own subtle gratification. The women at the Fort were very fond of Beatrice, and she made daily visits there, but time began to hang heavily upon her hands. Without knowing why, she was restless and unhappy, and, after the manner of her sex, attributed it to some hidden illness of the body rather than the mind. "I feel as if I simply must go somewhere or do something," she said to Doctor Norton, in a vain effort to explain her unrest. He examined her pulse and tongue, then laughed at her. "You're all right," he said; "there's nothing on earth the matter with you." "There is, too," she contradicted. "I don't feel right and I need medicine." "Quinine?" She made a wry face. "No, I don't need that." "Sulphur and molasses?" Beatrice turned up her nose in high disdain. "Is that all you can think of?" "No," replied the Doctor, "I have other remedies, but I want to give you something that would please you. If you feel that you need medicine, my entire stock is at your service. I ask only for the right to supervise your selection, as we don't want you poisoned." They were sitting on the piazza, and the girl's laugh reached the schoolroom and set the teacher's heart to throbbing. He could steel himself against her smiles and her playful pouting, but when she laughed, he was lost. "I don't think you'd care much," observed Beatrice, "whether I was poisoned or not, just so you didn't have to give up any of your precious medicines. You're selfish--that's all." "What more can I do, Miss Manning? I've offered you all my worldly goods. Which bottle do you want?" "Thank you, I've decided not to rob you. I'll die, if I have to, without medical aid." "Some people prefer it," murmured Norton. "How did you happen to come here?" she asked abruptly. He started slightly, remembering the face that led him, like a star, from one frontier post to another, but he merely said: "An army surgeon has no choice. We go where we are sent by the powers that be." "I'd hate to be sent anywhere." "I believe you," replied the Doctor, smiling; "and if you were told you couldn't go anywhere that place would immediately become desirable." "Wonderful insight," commented Beatrice. "Or perhaps some one has told you?"