was a feeling of paternal vanity in showing this wretched aborigine the
value and importance of the treasure she was about to guard, I cannot
say. Flip darted an interrogatory look at Lance, who nodded a quiet
assent, and she flew into the inner room. She did not linger on the
details of her toilet, but reappeared almost the next moment in her new
finery, buttoning the neck of her gown as she entered the room, and
chastely stopping at the window to characteristically pull up her
stocking. The peculiarity of her situation increased her usual shyness;
she played with the black and gold beads of a handsome
necklace--Lance's last gift--as the merest child might; her unbuckled
shoe gave the squaw a natural opportunity of showing her admiration and
devotion by insisting upon buckling it, and gave Lance, under that
disguise, an opportunity of covertly kissing the little foot and ankle
in the shadow of the chimney; an event which provoked slight hysterical
symptoms in Flip and caused her to sit suddenly down in spite of the
remonstrances of her parent. "Ef you can't quit gigglin' and squirmin'
like an Injin baby yourself, ye'd better get rid o' them duds," he
ejaculated with peevish scorn.
Yet, under this perfunctory rebuke, his weak vanity could not be
hidden, and he enjoyed the evident admiration of a creature, whom he
believed to be half-witted and degraded, all the more keenly because it
did not make him jealous. She could not take Flip from him. Rendered
garrulous by liquor, he went to voice his contempt for those who might
attempt it. Taking advantage of his daughter's absence to resume her
homely garments, he whispered confidentially to Lance:
"Ye see these yer fine dresses, ye might think is presents. Pr'aps Flip
lets on they are. Pr'aps she don't know any better. But they ain't
presents. They're only samples o' dressmaking and jewelry that a vain,
conceited shrimp of a feller up in Sacramento sends down here to get
customers for. In course I'm to pay for 'em. In course he reckons I'm
|