Look!" she continued, taking her handkerchief from her pocket and wiping his cheek; "see there!" The delicate cambric showed a blood-red streak.
"It grows in a swamp," she continued, in the same excited strain; "we call it dragon's teeth,--like the kind that was sown in the story, you know.

We children used to find it, and then paint our faces and lips with it.

We called it our rouge.

I was almost tempted to try it again when I found it just now.

It took me back so to the old times." Following her odd manner rather than her words, as she turned her face towards him suddenly, Brant was inclined to think that she had tried it already, so scarlet was her cheek.