"Did you fly?
You are so light, so thin, you could breathe yourself here," rejoined the girl, with a gentle, quizzical smile.

"But, no," she added, "I remember, you were to be here at Carillon." "Are you able to walk now ?" asked Madame Bulteel.
"To Manitou--but of course," Fleda answered almost sharply.
After the first few minutes the crowd had fallen back.

They watched her with respectful admiration from a decent distance.

They had the chivalry towards woman so characteristic of the West.

There was no vulgarity in their curiosity, though most of them had never seen her before.