“Ha! there is his formidable rival, and seemingly his friend,” whispered Mrs. Elmsley, in the ear of Maria--“handsome fellows, both of them, so much so, that were I single, like you, I should have some difficulty in choosing between them.”
As she uttered these words, a sharp and unaccountable pang, sudden and fleeting as electricity, shot through the frame of her friend. The blood suddenly receded from her cheek, and then rapidly returning, suffused it with a burning heat.
“What is the matter, my love? Are you ill, you looked so pale just now?” tenderly inquired Mrs. Elmsley.
“I cannot account for what I experienced. It was a feeling different from any I had ever known before--a strange, wild, and inexplicable dread of I know not what. But it has passed away. Take no notice of it, dear, before Ronayne.”
“Mrs. Elmsley,” said the latter, almost using force to induce the modest-looking young Indian to enter the room, “will you allow me first to introduce my friend Waunangee to you, and then to give him a glass of claret? Forgive the liberty I take, but I confess a good deal of obligation to him, and would fain do the civil in return.”
“Indeed! what a set speech for a glass of wine. Give it to him by all means, if it is only for his beautiful eyes--that is to say, if the doctor has left any--or stay, I will get another bottle.”
“By no means,” returned the young officer, “this unconscionable man has just left about half a tumbler foil, and I do not intend he shall have more. Waunangee,” he pursued, after filling and presenting him with the glass, “that is the lady of the house,” pointing to Mrs. Elmsley, “you must drink to her health.”
“And dis you handsome squaw,” remarked the Indian, a moment or two after having tossed off the wine, which quickly circulated through his veins. “Dis you wife!” he repeated, throwing his expressive eyes upon Miss Heywood, while a rich glow lighted up his dark, but finely formed features.
“Hush!” said Ronayne, making a sign to intimate that he was not to indulge in such observations.
But even the small quantity of wine he had taken was acting potently on the fast animating Indian. “Dis no you squaw--dis Waunangee squaw,” he said, with strong excitement of manner. “Waunangee, see him beautiful, Waunangee got warm heart--love him very much!”