Naida's dark eyes
bespoke plainly her admiration, and Miss Spencer shook back her hair
somewhat coquettishly.
"Do you think I look nice?" she questioned, smilingly.
"You bet I do. Your hair is just beautiful, Miss Spencer."
The other permitted the soft strands to slip slowly between her white
fingers. "You should never say 'you bet,' Naida. Such language is not
at all lady-like. I am going to call you Naida, and you must call me
Phoebe. People use their given names almost entirely out here in the
West, don't they?"
"I never have had much training in being a lady," the young girl
explained, reddening, "but I can learn. Yes, I reckon they do mostly
use the first names out here."
"Please don't say 'I reckon,' either; it has such a vulgar sound. What
is his given name?"
"Whose?"
"Why, I was thinking of Mr. Wynkoop."
"Howard; I saw it written in some books he loaned me. But the people
here never address him in that way."
"No, I suppose not, only I thought I should like to know what it was."
There was a considerable pause; then the speaker asked, calmly, "Is he
married?"
"Mr.
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