spot could appear upon their garments without Mary's notice, and as she
always kept changes ready she was frequently disrobing and dressing them
up.

When Souwanas and Jakoos came that morning and picked up the children Mary
happened to be in another room. Had she been present she would doubtless
have interfered in their movements. As it was, when she missed the children
her indignation knew no bounds, and only the most emphatic commands of her
mistress restrained her from rushing after them. All day long she had to
content herself with muttering her protests while, as usual, she was busily
employed with her needle. When, however, the two stalwart Indians returned
in the evening with the children on their shoulders the storm broke, and
Mary's murmurings, at first mere protests, became loud and furious when the
happy children, so tired and dirty, were set down before her. The Indians,
knowing of the sad tragedy in Mary's life, would not show anger or even
annoyance under her scathing words, but, with the stoical nature of their
race, they quietly endured her wrath. This they were much better prepared
to do since neither of the parents of the white children seemed in the
slightest degree disturbed by their long absence or the tirade of the
indignant nurse. With high-bred courtesy they patiently listened to all
that Mary had to say, and when the storm had spent itself they turned and
noiselessly retired.

The children were worn out with their day's adventure, and their mother
intimated that Mary ought at once to bathe them and put them to bed. This,
however, did not satisfy Mary. It had become her custom to dress them up in
the afternoons and keep them appareled in their brightest costumes during
the rest of the day; therefore now the weary children, after being bathed,
were again dressed in their best and brought out for inspection and a light
supper before retiring. The bath and the supper had so refreshed them that