in this
beastly slow place."

A look of alarm steals over Eleanor's features. The distress in her
voice is evident as she replies:

"Oh, no, Carol--are you?"

"I have plenty of sport," he says, watching the smoke wreath upwards;
"it is different for me."

"And I have you," she answers tenderly; "that is all I want."

"Sweetest Eleanor," he drawls, letting her take his hand. "How easily
you are satisfied!"

"I don't quite see that," she answers, puckering her forehead. "I have
the only man I love here at my side, glorious scenery all round, I do
just as I please, I come and go unquestioned, you have given me a horse
to ride, and a house to inhabit, a heart to treasure----"

"Why do you put the heart last?"

She laughs at his question.

"Oh! merely by chance."

"Perhaps it is the least valuable," says Quinton, playing with her
fingers.

"Don't be silly."

"I wish you were fond of sport, I would teach you to shoot."

"I cannot bear killing things. I really believe I should suffer as
much as my victims."

"That would be very weak-minded of you."

"Perhaps, but I _have_ a weak mind, you know. I told you that at
Copthorne, when you swallowed up my will."

"That sounds as if I were a devouring monster, darling."

She is gazing before her and takes no notice of his remark.

"Copthorne!" she says at last. "_What_ a long way off it seems."

"Yes," replies Quinton, "rather fortunate under the circumstances.
Your good parents were eminently virtuous; I doubt if they would give
me such a friendly welcome now. I say, Eleanor, don't you wish you had
Giddy out here. She would wake us up. I should like to see her come
in now, with that terrible purple hat, and the white cock's feathers
all awry. How full she would be of gossip, and how funny!"

He laughs at the recollection of her odd sayings.

"But I don't want waking up," replies Eleanor. "It would be like a
douche of cold water thrown rudely over you in a dream to see any face
that reminded me of the past. I am sure we don't want Giddy in our
paradise. It is far pleasanter without her!"

"You prefer Elizabeth Kachin and her black Tombo!" laughs Carol. "Do
you know, Eleanor, you are the only white woman who would speak to her."

"I like them both; they do not bother me with questions."

"By the way, dear, I forgot to tell you Captain Stevenson and Major
Short, two old pals of mine, are in these parts. They sent a mounted
messenger to ask