This was how Riska's first excursion from the raft occurred. She had been out riding her bicycle and a hat had blown by her. The hat must belong to a head. She espied the head and liked it; therefore she chased the hat. Having caught it, she waited for the owner to come up. She accepted his thanks and indulged in a few minutes' conversation. Next day, riding along the same road at the same hour, she had encountered the owner of the hat again. After that, good-luck and liking had taken a hand in bringing them together. Soon he had been invited to tea at the cottage. Jehane had made things easy for him. She had learnt that his father was a self-made, ambitious man, who wore side-whiskers and hoped to die a baronet. “The Governor,” the boy had told her, “wants me to marry well.” There lay the rub. Would his father consider Riska good enough? The name of the young fellow was Bonaparte Triggers. Jehane felt that it was absolutely necessary that young Triggers should be socially impressed. She persuaded Barrington to allow Riska to bring her suitor to Topbury. Before he came, she issued a careful warning that no mention was to be made of Ocky Waffles. Closely questioned, she admitted that, without deliberately lying, she had let the boy suppose that she was a widow. “But, if he's seriously in love with Riska, you'll have to tell him,” Barrington objected. Jehane's face clouded. “That's my affair. Who'd marry the daughter of a convict? It's easy for you to talk.” “Then you mean that----? Look here, I'm not criticizing; but don't you think that this'll look like deception? Supposing he married Riska without knowing, he'd be bound to find out after. Let Riska tell him. If he's the right kind of a chap, he'll love her all the more for her honesty.” Jehane lost her temper as far as she dared. “You've always been against me--always. Of course, if you're ashamed of us, and don't want Riska to bring him----.” There was no arguing along these lines. Barrington gave his reluctant consent. Riska came, bringing with her Bonaparte Triggers, a flashy youth with a cockney thinness of accent. The purpose of his visit was to be impressed; he made it clear from the start that he had come to impress. He did not belong to a world of culture and felt, as Ocky Waffles had felt before him, that an effort was being made to rob him of his self-possession. He resisted the effort by smoking innumerable cigarettes, and tried to parade his own paces by accompanying himself on the piano while he sang music-hall ditties of the latest hug-me-quick-and-not-too-delicately order. His visit was not a success. He was jerry-built, like his father's villas.