a bewitching humility, that made Frank Hallett adore her. "The old lady doesn't mean a word of it," he said, "and you're an angel, Miss Valliant."
"There are two kinds of angels," said Mrs. Hallett, "and you're in Beelzebub's colours, my dear. But you look lovely all the same, and I don't wonder that all the men are running after you. That's what Lady Garfit tells me."
"Oh, so the Garfits have been here to see you," said Elsie piqued. "Well, Rose Garfit is a practical and a substantial angel, and she ought to be just what you like."
"So she is. I like her better than you, but then Frank doesn't, my love, and that's the mischief. Lady Garfit says you're a flirt, and that you are getting yourself talked about with those Baròlin men. Now just come here, and stoop down close. I want to see something."
Elsie did as she told her. The old lady solemnly wiped her spectacles, and took out her handkerchief, and rubbed Elsie's rose-pink cheek.
"Lady Garfit says you're rouged."
"But you see that I'm not."
"There's no telling. Rose Garfit—no, it was Minnie Pryde, or Mrs. Jem said it—some of your Leichardt's Town girls crush up geranium leaves, and rub your cheeks with them, and it doesn't come off on the handkerchief."
"I'll go," cried Elsie rising. "And if I do rouge, and if I flirt, Mrs. Hallett, and if I'm horrid altogether, you're well rid of me. And I'm going back to Leichardt's Town very soon, and you won't see me till the spring, when we are all coming up to picnic at Baròlin Falls, and perhaps by then you'll have forgiven me."
She kissed her hand and bounded off the verandah, pulling her cloak over her head. Frank followed, but he was detained for a few moments by his mother. Blake was waiting at the entrance of the tent, having the start, and took Elsie into dinner, and Frank was vexed with his mother.
It was a long repast, made longer by the speeches. The health of Mr. and Mrs. Jem was drunk, and an appropriate speech was made by the oldest resident on the Luya, calling
