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Was not this the auspicious
moment?
"Did the squaw bring more?" she questioned.
"Yes," he answered. "Pink moccasins in a basket of red osiers, with the
same moss, rosemary and white tresses. Would you rather those?"
She set down the glass, drawing the basket toward her with both hands. As
she parted the mosses to drop in the water she slowly shook her head.
"One must have seen them to understand what that would be like," she said.
"I know it was beautiful, but I'm sure I should have selected the gold had
I been there. Oh I wonder if the woman who has the moccasins will give
them a drink to-night! And will she try to preserve their roots?"
"She will not!" said Douglas emphatically.
"How can you possibly know?" queried the girl.
"I saw the man who ordered them," laughed Douglas.
"Oh!" cried Leslie, comprehendingly.
"I'd stake all I'm worth the moccasins are drooping against a lavender
dress; the roots are in the garbage can, while the cook or maid has the
basket," he said.
"Douglas, how can you!" exclaimed Leslie.


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