st suspect it.'

A ghost of a smile stirred about Ryder's mouth. 'I would not pain her for
the world,' he said. 'She is a kindly little woman, and her hospitality
is charming; but you must admit she is droll. What are my faults?'

'Forgive me if I seem to be treating you as a pupil.'

'There is no one on earth to whom I would rather go to school.

'Well, then, you must not laugh at Mrs. Macdougal.

'But, really, is one expected to take those extravagantly romantic poses
seriously?'

'They are meant seriously.'

'The eyes and sighs, the pensive melancholy, the little maladies, the
mysterious missing family? You must not tell me this is not burlesque.'

'I am sure you know it is not. Mrs. Macdougal has dreamed so much
rubbish, and read so much more, that all this humbug has become part of
her nature, and one has to be a bit of a humbug one's self and humour her
out of kindness In her girlhood there was no escape from the loneliness
and stupidity of the Bush but in dreams.

'My manners have been abominable. I shall mind them now.'

The evening of that day was spent in the garden before the homestead. The
day had been hot--there had been Bush-fires. The smoke hung about, and
the big moon floated like a great round blood-red kite above the range.
Ryder was sitting by Mrs. Macdougal on the garden-seat; Lucy played with
the children on the grass till it was their bed time, when the three
romped indoors together. Mrs. Macdougal turned her eyes upon Ryder
timidly, expecting the usual change in his demeanour. She had used all
her little arts on this man--the foolish, simple devices with which she
had bewitched the captain of the Francis Cadman, and with no more guile
in her soul. Suddenly she discovered the danger, but not before he had
turned her comedy into a tragedy. He overawed her, dominated her; she
dreaded him, and yet adored him as a splendid hero of romance.

He moved nearer into the shadow of the honey suckle and seized her hand.

'Marcia,' he said in a low voice, 'I can pretend no longer. I am sick of
the farce of treating you as a child before these people, while all the
time my heart hungers for you. I love you, Marcia!'

'For pity's sake--for pity's sake!' she said, struggling weakly.

'You know I love you. You have known it all along. Oh, my queen, how
could I help loving you--a rose in this wilderness? Marcia, Marcia, love
me! By God, you shall!' He kissed her again and again.

She ceased strugglin