Evadna was leisurely in her movements that night. The tea had
been poured and handed around the table by the Portuguese girl,
Marie, and the sugar-bowl was going after, when she settled
herself and her ruffles daintily between Grant and a braided,
green-blanketed, dignifiedly loquacious Indian.
The boys signaled each another to attention by kicking
surreptitiously under the table, but nothing happened. Evadna
bowed a demure acknowledgment when her Aunt Phoebe introduced the
two, accepted the sugar-bowl from Grant and the butter from
Peppajee, and went composedly about the business of eating her
supper. She seemed perfectly at ease; too perfectly at ease,
decided Grant, who had an instinct for observation and was
covertly watching her. It was unnatural that she should rub
elbows with Peppajee without betraying the faintest trace of
surprise that he should be sitting at the table with them.
"Long time ago," Peppajee was saying to Peaceful, taking up the
conversation where Evadna had evidently interrupted it, "many
winters ago, my people all time brave.
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