As for the doctor, he found a pleasure in this service that would have puzzled him had he paused to analyse it.  There was scant social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, little that interested him.  He took his social pleasures once a year in Hong-Kong, after Easter.  He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters.  Besides, by the time they were off his hands, old McClintock would be dropping in to have his liver renovated.

All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock’s copra plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an island of his own.  Perhaps he had heard of this Enschede.  Mac—­the old gossip—­knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally.  He might solve the riddle.  All of which proves that the doctor also had his moments of distraction, with this difference:  he was not distracted from his subject matter.

“So endeth the first lesson,” he said.  “Suppose we go and have tea?  I’d like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we’ll go to the Victoria instead.  I must practise what I preach.”

“I should be unafraid to go anywhere with you.”

“Lord, that’s just the lesson I’ve been expounding!  It isn’t a question of fear; it’s one of propriety.”

“I’ll never understand.”

“You don’t have to.  I’ll tell you what.  I’ll write out certain rules of conduct, and then you’ll never be in doubt.”

She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears.  If only this child were his:  what good times they would have together!  The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart.

“Why do you laugh?” he asked.

“All that you have been telling me, our old Kanaka cook summed up in a phrase.”

“What was it?”

“Never glance sideways at a man.”.

“The whole thing in a nutshell!”

“Are there no men a woman may trust absolutely?”

“Hang it, that isn’t it.  Of course there are, millions of them.  It’s public opinion.  We all have to kow-tow to that.”

“Who made such a law?”

“This world is governed by minorities—­in politics, in religion, in society.  Majorities, right or wrong, dare not revolt.  Footprints, and we have to toddle along in them, willy-nilly; and those who have the courage to step outside the appointed path are called pariahs!”

“I’m afraid I shall not like this world very much.  It is putting all my dreams out of joint.”

“Never let the unknown edge in upon your courage.  The world is like a peppery horse.  If he senses fear in the touch of your hand, he’ll give you trouble.”

“It’s all so big and aloof.  It isn’t friendly as I thought it would be.  I don’t know; I really don’t know,” she found herself repeating.