Hagar was right--perhaps the girl was no good.

They would wait until they could pass judgment upon this girl who had come to live in the wikiup of the Harts.

Then Lucy, she who longed always for children and had been denied by fate, stirred slightly, her nostrils aquiver.
"Mebbyso bueno yo' girl," she yielded, speaking softly.

"Mebbyso see yo' girl." Phoebe's face cleared, and she called, in mellow crescendo: "Oh, Va-ad-NIEE ?" Immediately the singing stopped.
"Coming, Aunt Phoebe," answered the voice.
The squaws wrapped themselves afresh in their blankets, passed brown palms smoothingly down their hair from the part in the middle, settled their braids upon their bosoms with true feminine instinct, and waited.
They heard her feet crunching softly in the gravel that bordered the pond, but not a head turned that way; for all the sign of life they gave, the three might have been mere effigies of women.

They heard a faint scream when she caught sight of them sitting there, and their faces settled into more stolid indifference, adding a hint of antagonism even to the soft eyes of Lucy, the tender, childless one.
"Vadnie, here are some new neighbors I want you to get acquainted with." Phoebe's eyes besought the girl to be calm.