With all the relief this day had brought her, there still remained a dull weight in her bosom, and an inner voice forbade her to mingle with those so sincerely engaged in rites of thanksgiving to the powers of good and happiness.
While she stood and gazed around, her attention was directed to a young couple passing in front of her.

The handsome lad with the dark, streaming hair was Okoya, and she recognized him proudly as the best-looking youth on the ground, Hayoue perhaps excepted.

But then, was not Hayoue, Okoya's father's brother?
But who was the girl by Okoya's side?
That slender figure of medium height, that earnest, thoughtful expression of the face, those lustrous eyes,--whose were they?
The two were manifestly a handsome pair, and the longer she watched them the more she became satisfied that they were the prettiest couple in the dance.

They were certainly well matched; her son's partner was the handsomest girl of the tribe; of this she was convinced, and she felt proud of it.

Motherly pride caused her heart to flutter, and the instinct of woman made her eager to know who the maiden was who appeared such a fitting partner for her own good-looking son.