and said it did not matter.

Perhaps, among the women of Fana 'alu, she stood highest in public
estimation, notwithstanding her bar sinister, for she was open-handed
and generous, and both the chiefs wife and Lepeka, the teacher's grand
lady, were of common blood--whilst she, despite her antecedents in
Apia, was of the best in Manono--the birthplace of the noble families of
Samoa.

* * * * *

So, as she stood there in the doorway, first combing and then plaiting
her hair _a la Suisse_, she asked in her native tongue,--

'Is she young, Tom? Will she have hair of goldthread like that of the
wife thou hadst in Sini{*} long ago--she who married another man?'

* Sydney.

Masters laughed. How could he tell! She might be young and fair; she
might be an _olomatua_ (an old woman), dried up and skinny. But that
was none of their business. All that he and Melanie had to do was to
entertain her well and make much of her.

'True,' said the placid-minded Melanie; 'and even if she be as ugly as
an _aitu_ (devil), yet will that fat-faced pig Lepeka die with envy to
see a white lady a guest in my house. Would that I could send to Manono
for my three brothers, so that they might come here and get drunk, and
beat Paulo! I hate Paulo, even as I hate Lepeka, for they both speak
evil of _me_, yet are for ever cringing to _thee_, taking eagerly thy
gifts of money to the church and the school and the mission fund, and
yet whispering of me as the dancing-house whore.'

'Never mind that, old woman,' said Masters, softly, placing his hand
upon the girl's head. 'Next year we shall go away from Fana 'alu. We
shall go to Ponape, in the far, far north--away from these islands; no
bitter tongues shall pain thy heart there.' Then, picking up his hat,
he sauntered down to the beach again and stood watching his whale-boat
being hauled up into the boat-shed by her native crew.

'_Like the wife he once had in Sydney, long ago._'

He lit his pipe, and began to pace to and fro on the sandy path under
the cool shade of the coco-palms and bread-fruit trees, thinking of an
incident of his past life, which, although six long years had passed,
neither his subsequent wanderings in many lands, nor his three latter
years' monotonously happy and lazy existence with Melanie at Fana 'alu,
had yet quite banished from his memory. And the chance question put to
him half an hour before had brought back to him a vision of the