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Updated: June 19, 2025
She evidently resented this familiarity to the dignified officer, and Odalie pondered fruitlessly on the possible ridicule involved in being called "Quawl."
Buy fur man packhorse," he added, pointing across the woods in the direction in which Alexander MacLeod was presumably still wearily tramping. The corporal for the moment forgot how good-looking he was. He concentrated his whole attention on Willinawaugh's disingenuous countenance, and then turned and cast a long, searching look upon Odalie.
Odalie had some smiling tears to shed for Hamish's sake, in the earnest hope that he might be as well off, and those whom she had consoled in affliction now in their prosperity sought to console her. The officers were hilarious.
But Fifine had no mind to answer, apprehending the agitation in the sharp tones, and translating it as displeasure. She drew her countenance straight in short order, and put a meditative forefinger in her mouth as she looked up doubtfully at her mother. Odalie changed her tone; she laughed out gayly. "Fonny! Fonny!" and she too imitated the Indian. Then exclaimed "Oh, isn't it droll, Fifine?"
"I hope you will not acquaint him with the circumstances," she said, stiffly. "By no means," said Demeré, appreciating her scruples. "That sort of thing is beyond discipline. The men in a garrison will tell everything they know or think they know." Odalie sat for a moment longer.
"I mean in my mind, Odalie, I hear it now in my mind. And all of a sudden it came to me that it was that stump up on the slope that was gobbling so cheerful, and gobbling me along into gunshot.
Young men and women in dainty, fairy-like garb, dancers, and dresses of the picturesque Empire, a butterfly or two and a dame here and there with powdered hair and graces of olden time. Singing with unmasked faces, they danced toward Tante Louise and Odalie.
To see the fellows salaaming to the very ground as I came across the parade! what are you doing to my frock, Captain Demeré?" he broke off, suddenly. "It's just right. Odalie fixed it herself." "Don't scuffle up these frills so," Captain Demeré objected. "Mrs. MacLeod is wont to wear her frock precisely." "Did O'Flynn mistake you for Mrs.
They were tired eyes with which Odalie looked at the gay pageant at last, tired with watching throng after throng of maskers, of the unmasked, of peering into the cartsful of singing minstrels, into carriages of revellers, hoping for a glimpse of Pierre the devout.
One of the Indian women smiled in return, a bright-eyed demonstration, and suddenly Odalie remembered the young Cherokee beauty she had noted at the sally-port, watching the parade, the day after her arrival at Fort Loudon. The other, encouraged, began to speak, and to speak in French a curious, dislocated patter.
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