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This is a bad beginning. Mr. Rodney, before replying, judiciously gains time, and makes a diversion by poking the fire. "Yes, of course," she says, dejectedly. A cloud seems to have fallen upon her happy hour. "When did you hear that—that last singer?" she asks, in a subdued voice. "Why should I marry?" replied the girl. "My father and mother take care of me. Our lodge is good; the parfleches are never empty; there are plenty of tanned robes and soft furs for winter. Why trouble me, then?".
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She flushes, opens her lips as if to speak, and yet is dumb,—perhaps through excess of emotion. So Scarface told her about the beautiful girl that he wished to marry and said, "She belongs to the Sun. I have come to ask him for her." "A government which, knowing not true wisdom, "What have I said?" she asks, half plaintively. "You laugh, yet I did not mean to be funny. Tell me what I said.".
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