“Do you take sugar?”

“No, thank you; neither sugar nor cream.”

“Neither?  That is very self-denying!”

“Not self-denying!  Were I foolish enough to do what I did not like, I should take the sugar and cream.  They do not happen to please my palate.”

“It is well we do not all like the same things.”

“It is indeed!” He held his cup untasted for a moment, looking thoughtfully into the fire.  “Tea is the best drink you can have in difficult, fatiguing journeys.  Even the gold-diggers of Australia know that.  They drink hard enough when they are on the spree, but when at work in earnest they stick to the teapot,” he said, turning his eyes full upon her with a cool, critical gaze, which half amused, half irritated her.  It was curious to sit there talking easily with a total stranger.  Perhaps she ought to have left him to himself, but it was not much matter.  Looking toward the window to avoid her companion’s eyes, she exclaimed: 

“It is raining quite fast!  I am glad I brought the children home before this shower.”

“An avant-courier of April.  You were walking with Mrs. Ormonde’s boys, then?”

“Yes; I take them out every day.”

“An uncommonly good-looking governess,” thought De Burgh.  “You have not been here long, I think?” he said.

“About three weeks.  The boys are quite used to me now, and enjoy their walks, for I take them outside the grounds,” said Katherine, feeling sure that De Burgh must guess who she was.

“Indeed!  You are a daring innovator.  I suppose they were kept on the premises till you came?”

“They were; and it is always tiresome to be kept within bounds.”

“I quite agree with you.  The sentiment is extremely natural, only young ladies rarely confess it.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you ought to know better than I do.  You give me the idea of being a plucky woman.”

“You must be quick in gathering ideas,” said Katherine, dryly.

“Yes; some subjects inspire me,” he returned, handing in his cup.  “Another, please.  I am a bit of a physiognomist.  I think I could give a rough sketch of your character.”  He stirred the fire to a brighter blaze and added, “It is so deuced dark since that shower came on I can hardly see you, but I will tell you my ideas, if you care to hear them.”

“Yes, I should,” she returned, laughing.  “It will be curious to hear the result of an instantaneous estimate.  Why, five minutes ago you had never seen me.”

“Five minutes?  No; ten at least.  Well, then, I should say you are a remarkably plucky girl, though perhaps not impervious to panic.  And, let me see,” fixing his keen, fierce eyes on hers, “gifted with no small power of enjoyment.  With a strong dash of the rebel in you, and—­well, I could tell you more, but I won’t.”

Katherine laughed good-humoredly.

“Have I hit it off?” he asked, after waiting for her to speak.