Page:The Toll of the Bush.pdf/69

which it had been subjected by the draught of the falling tree.

‘Here come the bairns,’ said Mrs. Gird, looking with bright eyes across the clearing, as a couple of boys shot out of the shadow of the bush and darted towards her. ‘Steady now, Mark, don’t tear me to pieces; let Rowly have some too. Now shake hands with Mr. Hernshaw. That’s right. Off you go to father. Take off your school clothes, and then you can get your tomahawks and amuse yourselves till teatime. Aren’t they just lovely?’ This to Geoffrey.

‘Vain woman!’ said he.

‘Yes,’ she said seriously; ‘it is true. I pride myself on my common-sense, but I’m a fool with my own.

‘They are the handsomest, the cleverest, the best-natured boys in the settlement,’ Geoffrey said.

He was still smiling, but Mrs. Gird’s bright eyes looked a long way into human nature, and she nodded.

‘You’re not a bad sort, Geoffrey,’ she said, turning away.

‘Well, of all the———’ Geoffrey began disgustedly.

‘Where have you been this last month?’ Mrs. Gird interrupted, leading the way to the house.

‘At home, working.’

‘I thought, perhaps, it was just possible you might be at Wairangi.’

‘There is a good deal of the conditional mood about that sentence,’ Geoffrey observed.

‘And is there none of it about you?’ Mrs. Gird asked shrewdly.