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Betty Zane

"We drink to the bride's fair beauty; we drink to the groom's good luck," said Capt.
Boggs, raising his cup.
"Do not forget the maid-of-honor," said Isaac.
"Yes, and the maid-of-honor. Mr. Clarke, will you say something appropriate?" asked
Col. Zane.
Rising, Clarke said: "I would be glad to speak fittingly on this occasion, but I do not think
I can do it justice. I believe as Col. Zane does, that this Indian Princess is the first link in
that chain of peace which will some day unite the red men and the white men. Instead
of the White Crane she should be called the White Dove. Gentlemen, rise and drink to
her long life and happiness."
The toast was drunk. Then Clarke refilled his cup and holding it high over his head he
looked at Betty.
"Gentlemen, to the maid-of-honor. Miss Zane, your health, your happiness, in this good
old wine."
"I thank you," murmured Betty with downcast eyes. "I bid you all good-night. Come,
Myeerah."
Once more alone with Betty, the Indian girl turned to her with eyes like twin stars.
"My sister has made me very happy," whispered Myeerah in her soft, low voice.
"Myeerah's heart is full."
"I believe you are happy, for I know you love Isaac dearly."
"Myeerah has always loved him. She will love his sister."
"And I will love you," said Betty. "I will love you because you have saved him. Ah!
Myeerah, yours has been wonderful, wonderful love."
"My sister is loved," whispered Myeerah. "Myeerah saw the look in the eyes of the great
hunter. It was the sad light of the moon on the water. He loves you. And the other
looked at my sister with eyes like the blue of northern skies. He, too, loves you."
"Hush!" whispered Betty, trembling and hiding her face. "Hush! Myeerah, do not speak
of him."
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