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Minturn arose Leslie went
forward slowly until she reached the moccasin flowers, but remembering,
she did not stop. The woman did. She stooped and Leslie winced as she
snapped one to examine it critically. She held it up in the gray light,
turning it.
"Did you ever see--little Elizabeth?" she asked.
"Yes," said Leslie.
"Do you think----?" She stopped abruptly.
"That one is too deep," said Leslie. "The colour he saw was on a freshly
opened one like that."
She pointed to a paler moccasin of exquisite pink with red lavender
veining. Mrs. Minturn assented.
"He can't forget anything," she said, "or let any one else. He always will
keep harping."
"We were peculiarly unfortunate that day," said Leslie. "He really had no
intention of saying anything, if he hadn't been forced."
"Oh he doesn't require forcing," said Mrs. Minturn. "He's always at the
overflow point about her."
"Perhaps he was very fond of her," suggested Leslie.
"He was perfectly foolish about her," said Mrs. Minturn impatiently.


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