smyth fancied the newcomer was her
father, for he was grey-haired and elderly, but he did not look in the
least like a Bush-rancher. Beneath the fur coat, which he flung off
when he had kissed his daughter, he was dressed as one who lived in
the cities, though his garments were evidently far from new. He was
tall, but his spareness suggested fragility, and his face, which
emphasized this impression, had a hint of querulous discontent in it.

"I didn't expect to get through until to-morrow, but they've altered
the running of the stage," he said. "Wiston drove me up from the
settlement, and said he'd send my things across to-morrow. I was glad
to get out of Victoria. The cooking and accommodation at the hotel I
stayed at were simply disgusting."

Nasmyth glanced at the speaker in amused astonishment, for the
Bush-ranchers of the Pacific slope are not, as a rule, particular.
They can live on anything, and sleep more or less contentedly among
dripping fern, or even in a pool of water, as, indeed, they not
infrequently have to do, when they go up into the forests surveying,
or undertake a road-making contract. Laura Waynefleet directed her
father's attention to her convalescent guest.

"This is Mr. Nasmyth," she said. "You will remember I mentioned him in
my letter."

Waynefleet made the young man a little inclination that was formally
courteous. "I am glad to see you are evidently recovering," he said.
"I hope they have made you at home here." Then he turned to his
daughter. "If you could get me some supper----"

Laura busied herself about the stove, while Waynefleet sat down and
talked to Nasmyth about generalities. Waynefleet appeared to be a
politician, and he criticized the Government, which, in his opinion,
was neglecting the Bush-ranchers shamefully. It was evident that he
considered it the duty of the Government to contribute indirectly
towards the support of settlers. Then the supper was laid out. As he
ate fastidiously, he made a few faintly sardonic observations about
the cookery, and, after the girl had brought in a pot of coffee, he
frowned at the cup he put down.

"There is one place in Victoria where you can get coffee, as it ought
to be, but this is merely roasted wheat," he said. "You will excuse me
from drinking any more of it. As you have probably discovered, Mr.
Nasmyth, one has to put up with a good deal in this country. It is in
many respects a barbarous land."

Nasmyth saw the faint flush in L