d been educated above the position in life she was
content to occupy. Why should she resort to the shallow and obvious
subterfuges of the most foolish and frivolous of her sex? He had no
perception of the extent of her sufferings, and would not, in any case,
have understood how independent are the workings of the head and the
heart of a loving woman. On such occasions she flirted audaciously with
the miners, and her blood burned in her veins because Done showed no
disposition to be moved by it.

Tim Carrol imagined himself to be the specially favoured man, and was
Aurora's most devoted slave, and the girl played upon his big,
affectionate heart, with no object but to awaken in Done a sparkle of the
recent fire. One night Aurora danced with him through a lively reel, and
at its conclusion, in a spirit of mirthless mischief, put up her red
mouth to be kissed. Not for all the powers of good and evil would Tim
have foregone that delight. He kissed her, but this time Done offered no
objection. Indeed, he gave no indication of having seen what was passing,
although in reality he had been watching Aurora, impressed with the idea
that she was drinking. Never since the first night he met her had she
seemed to him to be under the influence of drink, and he admitted to
himself that he might have been mistaken then, and was probably deceived
now by the fervour of her character.

Done's indifference struck a chill to the girl's heart. She went back to
her place silent, but feeling within her the stirring of a tempest. A
quarter of an hour later she confronted Jim as he stood talking with
Harry Peetree. For a moment she looked into his face, and all eyes were
upon her. Then she struck him in the mouth with her right hand, and her
eyes, cheeks, and whole being seemed to blaze into passion at the same
moment.

'I have something belonging to you. Is it that you are waiting for?' She
threw the small nugget in his face with her other hand.

The gold cut his temple, but he did not flinch; his eyes met hers without
passion; his cultivated power of control helped him now. Taking out a
handkerchief, he wiped the blood from his eye, and then, picking up the
nugget, offered it to her.

'Aurora,' he said, 'you know in your heart that is a lie.'

His quietness made her action ridiculous, whatever his intention may have
been, and the girl felt it with an access of frenzy; but at this point
Tim Carrol felt himself called upon to intervene in