The root lay in herself--in her own instability of purpose, her mercurial temperament.
She had been born with that temperament.

All the O'Haras loved change--hungered after strong sensation.

She was spoiling now for emotional excitement.
Well, the little human drama of the Blacks' camp had taken her out of herself for an hour or two.

It had been so funny to see Oola stroking the lace frills of Lady Bridget's old petticoat and looking up at Wombo with frank coquetry as she mimicked the 'White Mary's' gestures and gait.

Lady Bridget meant to stand by the savage lovers.