amuse
her to help cut out a few tame bullocks on a drafting camp if she had a
good old station mount that knew its work.

She shuddered. 'I love horses, but I should run away from the first
bullock that looked at me. I'm frightened of beasts, and, on second
thoughts, I should not want to pull out bogged ones. And I loathe
cooking--domestic work--in a house. It would be different out of doors.
You've promised to teach me the first time we camp out how to
make--what do you call them--johnny-cakes?'

'Ah! The first time we camp out together. If you knew how I've dreamed
of that. Biddy, I've got plans in my mind for that--' He caught her two
hands in a fierce grasp, and as he looked at her, his eyes full of
love, he would--greatly daring--have held her close to his breast and
kissed the provocative lips, as yet almost virgin to his. But she made
a shrinking movement, and he, acutely sensitive, dropped her hands, and
the love that had flamed in his eyes gave place to the dour look she
did not know so well.

'Why do you always keep me at a distance?' he said, and drew abruptly
away from her.

'Dear man, you mustn't be importunate. It--it's constitutional with me.
I've always hated love-making at close quarters.'

'Always! Does that mean that you've been in the habit of letting men
kiss you?'

'Colin, you are rude--brutal.'

'D'ye think so? It seems to me that I'm only as Nature made me.
Biddy--if you feel like that now--how will it be when you're my wife?'

She flushed a little, but as her way was, evaded him.

'Perhaps I shall have grown more used to it all by that time.'

'The time is not so long--only a fortnight from now. And when you hold
me off from the touch of your hand--the feel of your lips--well, it
makes me wonder....'

She gave a little alarmed shiver.

'Don't wonder, Colin. Don't worry.... And oh! before everything, don't
drive me--it isn't safe with an O'Hara woman. I can see that you don't
understand women--of a certain type.'

'Oh! I grant you women haven't stood for a great deal in my life, and
the few I've known well have been of the humble, human sort. But I do
know this, Bridget'--his face softened--'I do know that a proud,
sensitive woman--which is what you are and what I love you for
being--is like a thoroughbred mare, out the first time in harness. You
must keep your hands tight on her and let her go her own pace. I can
tell you, too, the cart-horse kind that has to be driven with a w