"
Redbud looked dubious.
"At least _ma mere_ is my mother," said Verty; "and if I am not an
Indian, I don't know what I am. You know," he added, "I can't be like
a deer in the woods, that nobody knows anything about."
Redbud smiled; then, after a moment's thought, said:
"I don't think you are an Indian, Verty."
And as she spoke, the young girl absently passed the coral necklace,
we have spoken of, backward and forward between her lips.
Verty pondered.
"I don't know," he said, at last; "but I know it was very good in God
to give me such a kind mother as _ma mere_; and such friends as you
all. I'm afraid I am not good myself."
Redbud passed the necklace through her fingers thoughtfully.
"That is pretty," said Verty, looking at it. "I think I have seen it
somewhere before."
Redbud replied with a smile:
"Yes, I generally wear it; but I was thinking how strange your life
was, Verty."
And she looked kindly and softly with her frank eyes at the young man,
who was playing with the beads of the necklace.
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