"Let us move on, Leonora," I said; "these are some summer friends of
mine," and I introduced them to her.
My chief feeling was embarrassment, which was shared by all the party;
for Leonora felt that there was something unusual in the meeting. The
door of the hotel seemed to come round at last, and as we were going
in, Harry Lothrop asked me if he might see me the next morning.
"Do come," I answered aloud.
We all bowed, and they disappeared.
"What an elegant Indian your tall friend is!" said Leonora.
"Yes,--of the Camanche tribe."
"But he would look better hanging from his horse's mane than he does in
a long coat."
"He is spoiled by civilization and white parents. But, Leonora, stay
and dine with me, in my own room. John will not come home till it is
time for the opera. You know we are going. You must make me splendid;
you can torture me into style, I know."
She consented, provided I would send a note to her mother, explaining
that it was my invitation, and not her old John's, as she irreverently
called him. I did so, and she was delighted to stay.
"This is fast," she said; "can't we have Champagne and black coffee?"
She fell to rummaging John's closets, and brought out a dusty,
Chinese-looking affair, which she put on for a dressing-gown.
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