great difficulty in connecting them with the loss of Carnaby. She was
also fond of him, for Deringham had shown only his better side to her,
and sensible of a very bitter feeling towards the man who had
supplanted him. In addition to this, she remembered the faint
amusement in his eyes when he noticed the glint of a silver coin she
held half-covered in her hand, and her pulses throbbed a little faster.
The man had placed her in a ridiculous position, and had he guessed her
feelings towards him he would probably not have made his appearance as
he did just then.

The boards creaked behind her, and turning partly round she
straightened herself with a slow sinuous gracefulness, and stood drawn
up to her full height looking at the newcomer. He stood still a moment
with veiled admiration in his eyes, and this was not altogether
surprising in one who had dwelt for the most part far remote from
civilization in the lonely bush. Alice Deringham had been considered
somewhat of a beauty in London, and it was possible that she knew the
pale moonlight and the harmonies of blue and silver she stood out
against enhanced the symmetry of her outline. The man stood watching
her with his head bent a trifle, but Miss Deringham evinced a fine
indifference. She had formed a somewhat mistaken estimate of him
already.

"I want to tell you that I'm sorry," he said.

The girl fancied she understood him, and it increased her anger, for
the fact that this barbarian of the bush should venture to express pity
for her was galling. Still, she had no intention of admitting it, and
regarded him inquiringly with a half-contemptuous indifference which
she had found especially effective with presumptuous young men in
England. Somewhat to her astonishment it apparently had no result at
all, for Alton returned her gaze gravely and without embarrassment.

"I don't understand," she said.

"I was hoping you would, because I felt I must tell you, and I'm not
good at talking," said the man. "I can't help seeing that you are
vexed with me."

If Alton had intended to be conciliatory he had signally failed,
because Miss Deringham had no intention of admitting that anything he
could do would cause her anger.

"I am afraid you are taking things for granted," she said.

Alton smiled gravely, and the girl noticed that he accepted the onus of
the explanation she had forced upon him.

"I really don't think you should be," he said. "I can't help being