oice. "I want some
dinner for this gentleman."

Then she stepped out, and the illusion vanished. For she was only a
half-caste, beautiful as a dream, or he who had not seen a woman for
many a long day--he never counted the black gins women--thought so,
but only a despised half-caste, outcast both from father's and mother's
race.

Not that she looked unhappy. On the contrary, she came forward and
smiled on him a slow, lazy smile, the smile of one who is utterly
contented with her lot in life.

"Whew! So that 's our hutkeeper, is it?"

"Dinner, Kitty."

The girl took a tin dish from the shelf and went outside. She walked
well and gracefully, and Turner followed her with his eyes.

"By Jove!" he said, "talk about good looks. Why, Dick, you--"

"Hang it all, man," said Stanesby. "I know well enough what you 're
thinking. The girl _is_ good-looking, I suppose, for a half-caste. The
boss's sister, old Miss Howard, found her among the tribe, a wild little
wretch, and took her in and did her best to civilise her; but it wasn't
easy work, and the old lady died before it was done."

"And you 're completing the job?"

Stanesby shrugged his shoulders.

"I saw her, of course, when I went in to the head-station, which wasn't
very often, and I suppose I told her she was a good-looking girl. She
mayn't understand much, but she understood _that_ right enough, trust
a woman for that. Good Lord! I never gave her a second thought, till I
found her at my door one night. The little beggar had had a row with 'em
up at the house and came right off to me. It wasn't any use protesting.
She might have done worse, and here she 's been ever since. But she's
got the temper of a fiend, I can tell you, and it ain't all skittles and
beer."

The girl entered the room and Stanesby began turning over his mail
letters, making his companion feel that the subject had better be
dropped between them. He had explained the girl's presence, he wanted no
comments from his old friend.

He filled his pipe and sat down on the only three-legged stool the hut
contained, watching his friend seated on a box opposite and the girl
passing in and out getting ready the rough meal. She was graceful,
she was beautiful, as some wild thing is beautiful, there was no doubt
whatever of that. Her dress was of Turkey red; old Miss Howard had had a
fancy for dressing all her dark _protegees_ in bright colours, and they
had followed in her footsteps up at the station,