And it was because he had seemed so ill-beset that she had taken the
gift so readily.
She would not have him stumble longer under the sharp eyes of Marie.
And then thought of him faded from her mind and she fell to
contemplation of the doeskin garment again. Things of its like she had
seen at Grand Portage, but nothing of its great beauty, and for the
first time she gave thought to self-adornment. She was strong, this
woman, and given to serious dreams, and the small things of womanhood
had left her wide apart in a land of her own wherein there were only
visions of afar country, of travel and of conquest, and perhaps of a
man, old and rugged and kindly, who had followed the long trail, and
this small new thought lodged wonderingly in her mind.
For the first time she was conscious of the plainness of the garment
that folded her form, and she held up her arms and looked at them,
brown beneath the up-rolled sleeves.
Yes, some day she would put it on, this gorgeous thing of white fringe
and sparkling colour, because she had told that man she would.
Unlike most women, she did not hold it up to her, pointing a foot
beneath its pretty edge, gathering it into her waist, trying its
effect.
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