"Now we shall never understand each other unless you will talk quite straight with me." Alice Deringham had not lost her discretion in her anger, and, since there was no avoiding the issue, decided it would be preferable to blame him for the lesser of his offences.
"Then," she said coldly, "it was somewhat difficult to appreciate the humour of the trick you played upon us.

You may, however, have different notions as to what is tasteful in the Colonies." Again the darker colour showed in Alton's bronzed forehead, but he spoke gravely.

"I don't think that's quite fair," he said.

"I am what the Almighty made me, a plain bushman who has had to work too hard for his living to learn to put things nicely, but I never came down to any meanness that would hurt a woman, and there isn't any need for a dainty English lady to point out the difference between herself and me." "There may be less difference than you seem to fancy," said the girl a trifle maliciously.

"You are Alton of Carnaby." "Pshaw!" said the man with a little gesture of pride and impatience, which Miss Deringham was forced to admit became him.