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Benson, with whom, in truth, she had exchanged greetings on the plains under circumstances quite different from the present, as one, at least, had cause to remember.

"I do not recall a former meeting, madam. But you might have met me on the plains. I was on my way to Portland when you saw me, if you saw me at all. A frontier trading-post is no proper place to bring up a lot of Indian half-breeds. I came here to educate my children."

"Then your husband is a white man?"

"Yes."

"I beg your pardon, but you do not speak and act like the other Indians I have met."

"I am a chieftain's daughter, and I was educated in London. You spoke of travelling in the Ranger train. Mr. Ranger is my husband's brother."

"Does Captain Ranger know of this?"

"I neither know nor care! One thing is certain. I shall do my best to train and educate my children in such a way that he will be proud some day to own them as relatives. I have the girls in school at the Academy of the Sacred Heart. The boys are at the Brothers' School."

"Do you know Dr. McLoughlin?"

"Yes, and my husband knows him well. I saw him as the children and I passed through Oregon City. He was very kind, and bade me be of good cheer. He has an Indian wife himself, as you know. But he did not ask me in to see her, so we did not meet."

As Donald McPherson had not yet arrived in Portland, Mrs. Benson had ample leisure for letter-writing.

"My dear Daphne," she wrote, "a letter from Mr. McPherson awaited me, as I expected. He had sent it forward by a courier from the plains, in care of one of Dr. McLoughlin's agents. I need not repeat its contents. Suffice it to say, that I am serene and calm. Gkxi has been very merciful to us all. Within the letter was a