style="font-size:15px;"> "As she told you, they probably know it now, but I'll see them the first thing when I go back and explain. They'll be glad to know she's safe. She's as skittish a filly as I've ever laid eyes on – she won't wear a bit, nor stand; and that little black devil that she rides is made out of the same kind of timber. The two of them will have the settlement by the ears inside of a month – you wait and see."
Beatrice appeared at this juncture and pointed a rosy finger at Captain Wells. "Perjurer!" she laughed. "You've been taking my character away from me!"
"I never tell anything but the truth, Miss," returned the Captain, awkwardly. "Are you going back with me this afternoon?"
"I told you once," she answered, "that I was going to live with Aunt Eleanor. I'm never going to Fort Wayne again!"
"Do you want me to take a letter or a message to your people?"
"No!" cried Beatrice, with her eyes blazing. "If you dare to mention me to them, or say I sent any kind of a message, I'll – I'll haunt you!"
The Captain went out, murmuring confused apologies; and Robert, feeling himself in the way, went to his room. The moccasins hanging on the wall gave him a vivid moment of self-knowledge. The dainty, arched foot he had seen for the first time when Beatrice stamped on the piazza, might easily have been the one for which the moccasins were made. He stroked the pretty things caressingly, with a soft light in his eyes.
"I knew she was coming," he said to himself; "but how did I know?"
In the afternoon, Mackenzie and the officers rode a little way on the Fort Wayne trail with Captain Wells, who was charged with many letters and messages for friends there, and Beatrice watched the start from the window of the living-room.
"Who's that, Aunt Eleanor, riding beside Uncle John?"
"Captain Franklin, in command of the Fort."
"And who's the mean-looking one, twisting his mustache?"
"Lieutenant Howard, dear – Katherine's husband."
"Oh!" said Beatrice, quickly. "Aren't they happy together?"
There was a long silence. "Not very happy, I'm afraid," sighed Mrs. Mackenzie.
"I'm sorry," said the girl, with genuine sympathy. "Do you think I could help in any way?"
"I don't know, Bee – I wish you could. You will be company for Katherine, and perhaps you can make it easier for her, in some ways, if you try."
"Poor Cousin Kit! Of course I'll try! Look, Aunty," she said, abruptly pointing to a belated rider who was galloping to overtake the others. He had his cap in his hand, and his yellow hair was blowing in the wind. "That's the big boy I scared. Is he married?"
"No," replied Mrs. Mackenzie. Her lips did not move, but her eyes smiled.
"He's handsome," said Beatrice, dispassionately. "I've lived at all the posts – Fort Wayne, Detroit, and Fort Mackinac, and he's the best-looking soldier I've seen. I'd like to paint his picture, if he'd let me."
"I'll ask him, dear; I think he'll let you."
"Aunt Eleanor!" cried Beatrice, reproachfully.
"Why not?"
"Oh – because. Where are those soldiers going, Aunty?"
Mrs. Mackenzie looked out of the window and saw half a dozen men in the boat belonging to the Fort, headed up-stream.
"They're going fishing, I guess. I'll have to go away a little while this afternoon, Bee. Mrs. Burns is sick and she needs me – you won't mind, will you? I'll leave the table all set, and I'll surely be back before dark. Are you afraid to be left alone?"
"No. I'm not afraid of anything; but where is Cousin Rob?"
"He's teaching the children. They don't seem to get much time, someway, in the morning, so they begin right after dinner and study till supper time. I'm so glad to have Robert here – he's doing wonders with them."
"He seems nice," said Beatrice, "and I like him. Can't I go with you, Aunt Eleanor?"
"No, dear – somebody has to stay with the baby. He's asleep, though, and I don't think he'll trouble you."
"I'll take care of him, Aunty. Don't fret about us."
Nevertheless, the house seemed very lonely to Beatrice after Mrs. Mackenzie went away, and she roamed about restlessly. For a time she amused herself by examining the articles on the depleted shelves behind the counters, but the interest soon vanished. She could find nothing to read except a soiled and ragged copy of a paper three months old, which she had already seen at Fort Wayne. The murmur of voices from a distant room, reached her ears with sudden and attractive significance, and her face brightened.
"I don't know as I should do it," she said to herself, but she went to the door and tapped softly.
Robert opened it, in surprise, and Beatrice stepped into the room. "I've come to visit the school," she said.
"Goody!" cried Johnny.
She seated herself on the window ledge and smiled radiantly at the embarrassed teacher. Discipline had been difficult from the beginning, and the guest made matters worse.
"Now, then, Johnny," Forsyth said, "what were we studying?"
"Eight times three."
"Yes, and how many are eight times three?"
"Twenty – "
"Twenty-one," said Beatrice.
"Twenty-one," repeated Johnny, readily, with the air of one who has accomplished a difficult feat.
Robert frowned and bit his lips. "Eight times three are twenty-four, Johnny. Write it ten times on your slate – that will help you to remember."
"What a gift for teaching," murmured Beatrice. Robert flushed, but did not speak, and there was no sound in the room but the pencil scratching on the slate.
"Cousin Rob?"
"Yes, Johnny. What is it?"
"Why, Cousin Bee just said eight times three were twenty-one. Did she tell a lie, or didn't she know?"
"Never mind, Johnny; just attend to your lesson."
"Mamma says it's wicked to tell lies," observed Ellen, virtuously, sucking her slate pencil.
Beatrice was enjoying herself hugely. She flashed a wicked glance at Forsyth as she said, "I'm so glad I came!"
"Go on with your work, Ellen. I want you to write that sentence five times without a mistake. Maria Indiana, bring me your primer. Begin here."
"Tan't. Baby's fordot."
"Oh, no, you haven't. We learned this yesterday, don't you remember? Now, then, – 'I see,' – what's the rest of it?"
"I see a tat."
"Where?" asked Beatrice, lightly, and Maria Indiana gazed at her, sadly bewildered.
"Where is the cat?" she asked
