to eat. We will have time enough; Barker cannot find his way back
in this fog to-night. Now don't put yourselves to any trouble on my
account. Barker will assist?"
Barker came forward. Glad to escape the scrutiny of his guest, the
hermit gave a few rapid directions to the Princess in her native tongue,
and disappeared in the shed. Left a moment alone, Miss Portfire took
a quick, half-audible, feminine inventory of the cabin. "Books, guns,
skins, ONE chair, ONE bed, no pictures, and no looking-glass!" She took
a book from the swinging shelf and resumed her seat by the fire as the
Princess re-entered with fresh fuel. But while kneeling on the hearth
the Princess chanced to look up and met Miss Portfire's dark eyes over
the edge of her book.
"Bob!"
The Princess showed her teeth.
"Listen. Would you like to have fine clothes, rings, and beads like
these, to have your hair nicely combed and put up so? Would you?"
The Princess nodded violently.
"Would you like to live with me and have them? Answer quickly. Don't
look round for HIM. Speak for yourself. Would you? Hush; never mind
now."
The hermit re-entered, and the Princess, blinking, retreated into the
shadow of the whale-boat shed, from which she did not emerge even when
the homely repast of cold venison, ship biscuit, and tea was served.
Miss Portfire noticed her absence: "You really must not let me interfere
with your usual simple ways. Do you know this is exceedingly interesting
to me, so pastoral and patriarchal and all that sort of thing. I must
insist upon the Princess coming back; really, I must."
But the Princess was not to be found in the shed, and Miss Portfire, who
the next minute seemed to have forgotten all about her, took her place
in the single chair before an extemporized table. Barker stood behind
her, and the hermit leaned against the fireplace. Miss Portfire's
appetite did not come up to her protestations. For the first time in
seven years it occurred to the hermit that his ordinary victual might be
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