He hesitated for an answer, and in his embarrassment she
felt that which began to ring a bell of warning in her heart.
The impulse to spare her pain was stronger in him than the desire that
she should know the truth.
"Send her away," he urged. "Don't ask any questions. She has been sent
to hurt you."
A fawnlike fear flashed into the startled eyes. "To hurt me?"
"I am afraid so."
"But--why? I have done nobody any harm." She seemed to hold even her
breathing in suspense. Only a pulse beat wildly in her white throat like
the heart of an imprisoned thrush.
"Perhaps some of Macdonald's enemies," he suggested.
And at that there came a star-flash into the soft eyes and a lifted tilt
to the chin cut fine as a cameo. She turned proudly to the Indian woman.
"What is it that you have to tell me about this boy's father?"
Meteetse began to speak. At the first mention of Macdonald's name
Sheba's eyes dilated. Her smile, her sweet, glad pleasure at Gordon's
arrival, were already gone like the flame of a blown candle. Clearly her
heart was a-flutter, in fear of she knew not what. When the Indian woman
told how she had first crossed the path of Macdonald, the color flamed
into the cheeks of the Irish girl, but as the story progressed, the
blood ebbed even from her lips.
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