"Yes," she said; "if it would please you." Alton smiled gravely as he swung down his wet hat.

"Then," he said, "I will come." He went down the stairway next moment, there was a soft thud of hoofs splashing in the mud, and in another minute he had gone, and Alice Deringham glancing towards the bush saw only sliding mist and driving rain, until her father stopped close by her.

"There is evidently a good deal in heredity," he said.

"Our rancher kinsman occasionally makes it very evident that he is Alton--of Somasco--but there are also times when he appears to understand what would be becoming in Alton of Carnaby." Now Deringham may have been right, and he may equally have been wrong; for, while Alton of Somasco had doubtless inherited something from the generations of land-holders who had gone before him, the man animated by a single purpose who has grappled with untrammelled nature, subduing the weaknesses of his body, and bearing hardship, peril, and toil, not infrequently attains to something of the greatness which is the birthright of humanity, and not confined to the English gentleman.
Alice Deringham, however, smiled ironically at her father.

"Did you expect anything else from him ?" she said.