New Scenes New Friends

There was another reason in Miss Merriman's mind for making the trip a
leisurely one. She knew that the girl was as far from being ready to
step into the new existence, without material readjustment in her
manners, as she was already mentally removed from the old. To be sure,
she possessed a natural grace of manner which could not but charm any
one who met her; but she was almost as free from external conventions as
one of her own wild birds, except for the few which she had
unconsciously acquired by her association with the older woman, and with
Donald; and, in her love for, and pride in, her protégé, Miss Merriman
wanted Rose to be able to fit, without embarrassment, into whatever
company she might find herself.

Hers was a comparatively easy task, for Smiles took to "manners" as
readily as a chameleon adapts its exterior to suit the color of its
surroundings. In the woods she had learned to mimic the note of the
birds or the chattering of the squirrels; in the hotel dining-room she
copied the behavior of her companion just as faithfully, and if, on
occasion, she found herself perplexed as to the proper use of some
strange implement of eating, she frankly, and without a thought of
embarrassment, sought information on the subject. People regarded her
with open amusement, sometimes; but more often their gaze spelt
admiration, and Rose was happily unconscious of both kinds of glances.