It was her nature, when she gave, to give generously.

She had become genuinely in love with her bush husband during that wonderful honeymoon journey.
Ah, that journey! What an experience! If she could have written it down as a new adventure of 'The Lady of Quality,' how the great Gibbs would have jumped at her 'copy!' Well, she had practically done so in her letters to Joan Gildea--now back in her London flat.

But the true inwardness of the adventure was a thing never to be put into words.
No sign yet of the men.

Lady Bridget ceased her restless pacing and swung herself slowly to and fro in a hammock at the end of the veranda.
As she swung she traversed over again in her imagination the stages of that honeymoon journey.
Two hundred and twenty-five miles of it, after the first camp out.

Many more nights under the stars.