Their own religion has so many beautiful things to offset our
faith that they are hard to convert."
"And Little Blue Flower--what became of her?" I asked. "Is she a squaw
in some hogan or pueblo, after all that the Sisterhood of St. Ann's did
for her?"
A shadow fell on the bright face beside me.
"Let's not talk of her to-day." There was a pleading note in Eloise's
voice. "Life has its tragedies everywhere, but I sometimes think that
none of them--American, English, Spanish, French, Mexican, nor any
others of our pale-faced people, have quite such bitter acts as the
Indian tragedy among a gentle race like the people of Hopi-land."
"I hope you will stay with us now."
I didn't know what I really did hope for. I was no longer a boy, but a
young man in the very best of young manhood's years. I had seen this
girl ride away from me without one good-by word or glance. I had heard
her message to me through Little Blue Flower. I had suffered and
outgrown all but the scar. And now one touch of her hand, one smile, one
look from her beautiful eyes, and all the barrier of the years fell
down. I wondered vaguely now about Beverly's wish to turn Dog Indian if
things became too monotonous.
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