"Mebbyso bueno yo' girl,', she yielded, speaking softly.
"Mebbyso see yo' girl."
Phoebe's face cleared, and she called, in mellow crescendo: "Oh,
Va-ad-NIEE?" Immediately the singing stopped.
"Coming, Aunt Phoebe," answered the voice.
The squaws wrapped themselves afresh in their blankets, passed
brown palms smoothingly down their hair from the part in the
middle, settled their braids upon their bosoms with true feminine
instinct, and waited. They heard her feet crunching softly in the
gravel that bordered the pond, but not a head turned that way; for
all the sign of life they gave, the three might have been mere
effigies of women. They heard a faint scream when she caught sight
of them sitting there, and their faces settled into more stolid
indifference, adding a hint of anta
