Miss Deringham decided that she had ventured sufficiently far.  Indeed, on subsequent reflection she was forced to admit that she had gone farther than was quite seemly, which somewhat naturally increased her displeasure against the man.  In the meanwhile she, however, made a little gracious gesture.  “Then I don’t think the explanation was necessary,” she said.

Alton laughed a little, and held out his hand.  “Do you know I’m thankful that’s over once for all, and now we can be friends,” he said.  “There are lots of things I can show you in the valley, and a good deal more that you can teach me.”

Alice Deringham could not afterwards quite decide why she shook hands with him, for she had no intention of teaching him anything, just then; but she did, and felt as the hard brown fingers closed upon her own that the friendship of this curious man could in time of necessity be relied upon.  In any case, and obeying some impulse, she shook off her chilliness, and asking questions about the district evinced a gracious interest in all he had to tell her, while presently induced by his naive frankness she smiled at him as she noticed him regarding her gravely.

“I presume a dress of this kind is scarcely suitable for the bush,” she said.

Alton laughed.  “I wasn’t looking at the dress, though it’s a very pretty one,” he said.  “You see, except my mother and Miss Townshead, I have never spoken to an English lady.”

“But you must have been very young when you lost her,” said the girl.

Alton took off his hat, and pointed to a hillside shrouded with sombre firs.  “Yes,” he said quietly.  “She sleeps up there, and in a little while my father followed her.  He was lonely without her, and because of what she had done for him, proud of his countrywomen.  He often used to talk about them.”

“And,” said Alice Deringham, “you wondered if he was mistaken?”

Alton made a little gesture that in a curious fashion implied a wide chivalric faith.  “No,” he said gravely, “I believe he was right.”

Miss Deringham felt a faint warmth creep into her cheek, and it was not because the speech might have been deemed a personal compliment.  She saw a little deeper into the man’s nature than that, and, if she had not, the tone of grave respect would have enlightened her.  Then she turned with a little sense of relief as Deringham came out upon the verandah.

“I am pleased to see you and Mr. Alton have made friends,” he said, and the girl, who noticed a faint twinkle in his eyes, turned quietly and looked down the valley as she remembered one odious clause in the will.

She rose early next morning, and flinging the window open to let in the glorious freshness heard a commotion below, while as she wondered as to the cause of it several pairs of old boots went gyrating over the balustrade of the verandah.  A dilapidated saddle followed them, and then a cloud of dust rolled up, while she saw the new owner of Carnaby appear somewhat scantily attired out of the midst of it.  He had a brush in one hand and seemed disturbed about something.