The lady was smiling more than ever; her air was more languishing; her head inclined farther to one side.  Such was her ecstacy of “inward contemplation,” to use her favorite phrase, that the weight of thought bent down her yellow eye-lashes and clouded her languishing eyes.

She raised them, however, and glancing at Verty, started.

“Good-morning, ma’am,” said Verty—­“Miss, I mean.  I got your letter.”

“Good-morning, sir,” said Miss Sallianna, with some stiffness; “where are your clothes?”

Verty stared at Miss Sallianna with great astonishment, and said: 

“My clothes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“These are my clothes.”

And Verty touched his breast.

“No, sir!” said Miss Sallianna.

“Not mine?”

“They may be yours, sir; but I do not call them clothes—­they are mere covering.”

“Anan?” said Verty.

“They are barbarous.”

“How, ma’am?”

Miss Sallianna tossed her head.

“It is not proper!” she said.

“What, ma’am?”

“Coming to see a lady in that plight.”

“This plight?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Not proper?”

“No, sir!”

“Why not?”

“Because, sir, when a gentleman comes to pay his respects to a lady, it is necessary that he should be clad in a manner, consistent with the errand upon which he comes.”

“Anan, ma’am’?”

“Goodness gracious!” cried Miss Sallianna, forgetting her attitudes, and vigorously rubbing her nose; “did any body ever?”

“Ever what, ma’am?”

“Ever see a person so hard to understand as you are, sir.”

“I don’t understand long words,” said Verty; “and you know I am an Indian.”

“I knew you were, sir.”

Verty shook his head, and smiling dreamily: 

“I always will be that,” he said.

“Then, sir, we cannot be friends—­”

“Why, ma’am—­I mean, Miss?”

“Because, sir, the properties of civilization require a mutual criterion of excellence—­hem!”

“Oh yes,” said Verty, very doubtfully, and checking by an effort his eternal exclamation of ignorance; “but I thought you liked me.”

“I do, sir,” said Miss Sallianna, with more mildness—­“I thought we should be friends.”

Verty smiled.

“What a funny letter you wrote to me,” he said.

“Funny, sir?” said Miss Sallianna, blushing.

“Very pretty, too.”

“Oh, sir!”

“But I did’nt understand more than half of it,” said Verty with his old dreamy smile.

“Pray why, sir?”

“The words were so long.”

Miss Sallianna looked gratified.

“They were expressive, sir, of the reciprocal sensation which beats in my heart.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Verty.

“But recollect, sir, that this sentiment is dependent upon exterior circumstances.  I positively cannot receive you in that savage dress.”