“Bright as the torch-flower of the prairies,” added Uncle George.

When William made these compliments intelligible to A-lee-lah, she maintained her customary Indian composure of manner, but her brown cheeks glowed like an amber-colored bottle of claret in the sunshine.  William, though he deemed it unmanly to give any outward signs of satisfaction, was inwardly proud of his bride’s finery, and scarcely less pleased with his own yellow vest, blue coat, and brass buttons; though he preferred above them all the yellow gaiters, which A-lee-lah had skilfully decorated with tassels and bright-colored wampum.

The next politic movement was to build for them a cabin of their own, taking care to preserve an influence over them by frequent visits and kind attentions.  They would have been very happy in the freedom of their new home, had it not been for the intrusion of many strangers, who came to look upon them from motives of curiosity.  The universal Yankee nation is a self-elected Investigating Committee, which never adjourns its sessions.  This is amusing, and perhaps edifying, to their own inquiring minds; but William and A-lee-lah had Indian ideas of natural politeness, which made them regard such invasions as a breach of good manners.

By degrees, however, the young couple became an old story, and were left in comparative peace.  The system of attraction continued to work like a charm.  As A-lee-lah was never annoyed by any assumption of superiority on the part of her white relatives, she took more and more pains to please them.  This was manifested in many childlike ways, which were extremely winning, though they were sometimes well calculated to excite a smile.  As years passed on, they both learned to read and write English very well.  William worked industriously on his farm, though he never lost his predilection for hunting.  A-lee-lah became almost as skilful at her needle as she was at weaving baskets and wampum.  Her talk, with its slightly foreign arrangement, was as pretty as the unformed utterance of a little child.  Her taste for music improved.  She never attained to Italian embroidery of sound, still less to German intonations of intellect; but the rude, monotonous Indian chants gave place to the melodies of Scotland, Ireland, and Ethiopia.  Her taste in dress changed also.  She ceased to delight in garments of scarlet and yellow, though she retained a liking for bits of bright, warm color.  Nature guided her taste correctly in this, for they harmonized admirably with her brown complexion and lustrous black hair.  She always wore skirts shorter than others, and garments too loose to impede freedom of motion.  Bonnets were her utter aversion, but she consented to wear a woman’s riding-hat with a drooping feather.  Those outside the family learned to call her Mrs. William Wharton; and strangers who visited the village were generally attracted by her handsome person and the simple dignity of her manners.  Her father-in-law regarded her with paternal affection, not unmixed with pride.