come along, and visitors
that I don't want to be bothered with at the House. There's a woman up
there....' He stopped suddenly and his face grew grim again. 'That's
it, I suppose--I'm sorry I didn't sling the whip harder and cut the
fellow's cheek open. I would if I'd thought....!'

He stopped again.

'What woman? Have I a rival? This is becoming dramatic!' Lady Bridget's
voice was amusedly ironic, but she carried her head erect. 'Tell me
about the woman at the Bachelors' Quarters, Colin.'

'There's nothing to tell, except that's she's the widow of a man who
went up with me on my last Big Bight expedition, and was killed--partly
through his own, and partly through my, fault. That's why I've made a
point of looking after her, and I built my Bachelor's Quarters chiefly
to give her a job. I thought she was too young and too good looking to
be drawing grog for diggers at Fig Tree Mount--which was what she set
out doing.'

'I see.... So she's young--and handsome.'

'Oh, in a coarse sort of way.... No, I wouldn't say that; she's rather
refined for her upbringing. Anyway, Steadbolt as well as a lot of other
men fell in love with her--Steadbolt was pretty well off his head over
it. She wouldn't have him at any price--naturally--and I had to give
the fellow work outside the head-station to keep him away from her.
That was before I went south. Very likely he's been trying it on again,
and knew I should have to get rid of him as soon as I came back.'

'Why doesn't the woman marry again?'

McKeith shrugged. 'Too jolly comfortable perhaps--or perhaps the right
man hasn't turned up. Florrie Hensor is several cuts above a
malingering lout like Steadbolt. Well there, poor devil! Maybe, it's
not unnatural that I should feel a sneaking sympathy for an
unsuccessful lover. That abominable lie was a bit too strong
though--and before you! The man must have been downright mad from drink
and fury and bitterness. It--it's all funny--isn't it? One of the queer
sides of the Bush. Good old Bush! I am glad to be back in it again,
Biddy.'

He lifted his head and seemed to draw in the strong odour of the gum
trees and the pure vitality of the weltering sun. His anger appeared to
have left only compunction behind it. And again he begged her to
forgive him for having subjected her to an experience so disagreeable.
They were on a stretch of clear road now, and the roans trotted
pleasantly along. Lady Bridget took up his words.

'Yes, it's a