Arabella laughed. Then her questions ceased for the time being, and Missy was curious to know how she had impressed a rather tiresome interlocutor, for now in the bedroom it was impossible for them to see each other's faces. A few minutes later Missy was satisfied on this point. At the supper-table she had no more attentive listener than Arabella, who watched her in the lamplight as one who has merely read watches another who has seen and done, while Missy rattled on more freely than she had done yet before Mrs. Teesdale. Even Mrs. Teesdale was made to smile this time, though she did her best to conceal it. The visitor was in such racy form. “I may have to go back home again any day,” she told them all. “It'll depend how my mother is, and how they all get on without me. I'll bet they manage pretty badly. But while I am here I mean to make the most of my time. A short life and a merry one, them's my sentiments, ladies and gentlemen! So I want to learn to shoot and milk and do everything but ride. I could ride if I wanted to; I learnt when I was a kid; but a horse once——” She broke off, laughing and nodding knowingly at Mr. Teesdale, who explained how Missy had been once bitten and was twice shy. John William said that he could very well understand it; and he offered to take Missy out 'possum-shooting as soon as ever there was a moon. “Have you ever fired a gun, Missy?” said Mr. Teesdale; and Missy shook her head. “P'r'aps you wouldn't like to try?” said John William. “Wouldn't I so!” cried the girl, with flashing eyes. “You show me how, and I'll try to-morrow.” “To-morrow's Sunday,” Mrs. Teesdale said solemnly. “Is your cup off, Miriam?” It was not, and because the cocoa was too hot for her Missy poured it into the saucer, and drank until her face was all saucer and red fringe. This impressed Arabella. “We'll soon teach Missy to shoot,” remarked Mr. Teesdale, smiling into his plate, “if she'll hold the gun tight and not mind the noise.” “I'll do my level,” said Missy gamely. John William proceeded to assure her that she could not be taught by a better man than his father, whom he declared to be the best shot in that colony for his age. The old man looked pleased, praise from his son being a very rare treat to him. But Arabella had been neglecting her supper to watch and listen to the guest, and now she asked, “Do the fine ladies shoot in England, Missy?” “Not they!” replied Missy promptly. “I should like to catch them.” “What ladies do you mean, my dear?” asked the farmer of his daughter. “Grand ladies—countesses and viscountesses and the rest. Missy knows heaps of them—don't you, Missy?” “Well, a good few,” said Missy, with some show of modesty. “To be sure you would,” murmured Mr. Tees-dale, adding, as his eyes glistened, “and yet you'll come and stay with the likes of us! You aren't too proud to take us as you find us—you aren't above drinking cocoa with your supper.”