Affairs were in this condition when Miss Deringham sat listening to the conversation of other visitors in the house of a friend of Mrs. Forel's one afternoon. Now and then a veiled allusion reached her, and at last she glanced inquiringly at her hostess.

The lady smiled deprecatingly and shook her head. "It is really indiscreet of Helen, but she seems to believe it is true," she said.

"These things do happen, even in the old country."

Alice Deringham laughed. "I am afraid I cannot controvert you if that is uncomplimentary, because I don't know what you are alluding to."

Her hostess looked thoughtful. "Then you haven't heard it yet?" she said. "Well, I am not the one to tell you, and it is quite possible they haven't got the story correctly."

Miss Deringham was interested, but she asked no more questions, and had changed her place when she once more heard a subdued voice she recognized behind a great lacquered screen.

"One would be sorry for Hettie Forel, but her husband was always a little unguarded. Opened his house to everybody, you know."

"It was the big bushman I saw there?" said another person, and Alice Deringham felt a curious little quiver in her fingers as she waited the answer.

"Yes. Hettie will feel it. She made such a fuss of him, but it mayn't have been his fault altogether. He is quite a good-looking man, if he is a trifle lame, and the girl may have thrown herself at him. They sometimes do."

Alice Deringham set her lips and turned her head away from her companion as one of the voices continued. "Hettie has not heard it yet, and Tom did not seem sure about it when he told me. In fact, Forel brought the man over to see us the night before, but it is quite evident now the girl had been living there. Yes, Tom heard he had rooms behind his office."

Miss Deringham had recovered her outward serenity, and the flush had faded from her face, leaving it very colourless as she turned to her companion.

"You heard that woman?" she said.

The lady beside her nodded, though there was a little pink tinge in her cheeks. "I am sorry that you did, my dear."

Alice Deringham stood up, and looked down at her with a sparkle in her eyes. "I know," she said, "that it cannot be true."

"We must hope so," said her companion, who appeared distinctly uncomfortable. "Still, the story is being told all over the city, and several of the houses Forel took the man to are closed against him already."

Alice Deringham seemed to shiver a little. "But--it is impossible."

Her companion shook her bead. "My husband is a member of the company which employed Miss Townshead, and as the man's business affairs were antagonistic to theirs she was dismissed immediately."

Alice Deringham found it very difficult to conceal the effect of this last blow, and was turning away when two women rose from a divan behind the screen. "The tea is cold. Shall I ask for some more for you?"

said one of them. "Pleased to see you again, Miss Deringham."

She got no further, for the girl, who looked her full in the face, passed on, and the other woman flushed a trifle.

"I'm afraid she must have heard you," said somebody. "Miss Deringham is, I believe, a connection of Alton's, and Hettie Forel hinted there was something more than that between them. It would be an especially suitable match because of some property in the old country."

The lady she spoke to smiled somewhat sourly. "Then one would be a trifle sorry for the rancher," she said.

It cost Miss Deringham a good deal to talk to her hostess until she could depart without attracting attention, and she walked back to Forel's house with a blaze in her eyes. As yet she could not think connectedly, for the astonishment had left no room for more than vague sensations of disgust and anger and a horrible rankling of wounded pride. Mrs. Forel as it happened was busy, and the girl slipped away to a room that was seldom occupied and sat there in the gathering darkness staring at the fire. The story was, she strove to persuade herself, utterly impossible, for she had probed the man's character thoroughly, and seen that it was wholesome through all its crudities--and yet it was evident the horrible tale must have some foundation, because otherwise refutation would be so simple.

Almost incredible as it was, the belief that it was borne out by fact was forced upon her, and too dazed to reason clearly she shrank with an overwhelming sense of disgust. She had, it seemed, wilfully deceived herself, and the man was, as she had fancied at the beginning, without sensibility or refinement, brutal in his forcefulness, and swayed by elementary passions. Then she writhed under the memory of the occasions on which she had unbent somewhat far to him, and the recollection of two incidents in the sickroom stung her pride to the quick; while when the booming of a gong rolled through the house, she rose faint and cold with an intensity of anger that for the time being drove out any other feeling. It would have gone very hardly with Alton had chance afforded her the means of punishing him just then.

As fate would have it the opportunity was also given her, for that evening Deringham, who had heard nothing of the story, was able to secure a few minutes alone with his daughter. He was, she noticed, looking unusually pale and ill, and that reminded her that he owed all his anxieties to Alton.

"Our kinsman is going back to Somasco very shortly, and then on into the ranges. I wish he could be prevented," he said.

The girl laughed a little. "I think it would be difficult to prevent Mr. Alton doing anything he had decided on."

"Yes," said Deringham. "He can be exasperatingly obstinate, but--and I put it frankly--he might listen to you. The journey he contemplates would be apt to prove perilous at this season."

Alice Deringham looked at her father with a smile the meaning of which he could not fathom. He did not know that she had of late been disturbed by unpleasant suspicions concerning his connection with Hallam.

"I fancy you are mistaken. You are of course influenced by a desire for his safety?"

Deringham winced, for he recognized the tone of sardonic scepticism, but he was horribly afraid of Hallam, and could not afford to fail.

"Well," he said, with a gesture of weariness, "I am afraid I must make an admission, I am hemmed in by almost overwhelming anxieties, and I have come to no understanding yet with Alton respecting Carnaby. Now if disaster overtook him in the ranges it would entail an investigation of the Carnaby affairs, and the withdrawal of a good deal of money from my companies, which would seriously hamper me. I have once or twice had to slightly exceed my duties as trustee, and Alton would approve of steps I have taken which a lawyer or accountant would consider irregular. Of course, if you had any knowledge of business I could make it more clear to you, but I can only tell you that I am anxious about Alton's safety for my own sake as well as his."

Alice Deringham turned towards him with a trace of impatience. "We may as well be honest, and I fancy Mr. Alton is used to risks," she said quietly. "Whether he encounters more than usual just now or otherwise is absolutely no concern of mine."

Deringham saw the change in her and wondered, but resolved to profit by it.

"I want him kept here a little longer. It is important to me," he said,

The girl saw the hand of Hallam in this, and surmised that it would not be to Alton's advantage if he postponed his journey, but she was vindictively bitter against him then, and glanced at her father inquiringly. It was evident that he was anxious and ill, and she was sensible of a pity that had yet a trace of contempt in it for him.

"Still, I do not see how I could induce him to remain," she said.

"Well," said Deringham slowly, "there is a way. Forel will be here in a minute--but if you would listen to me."

Deringham seemed to find a difficulty in commencing, and there was a curious expression in his restless eyes, while once or twice he stopped and proceeded somewhat inconsequently. He had made tools of a good many men and befooled the public without any especial scruples, but there was a shred of pride left him, and this was the first time he had stooped to drag his daughter into his schemes. His story lacked plausibility, and the girl was not deceived, but he was her father, and it was his cause she was asked to further against the man who had humiliated her and dispossessed him. She glanced away from him when he had finished, but her voice was quietly even.

"I think I shall be sorry for it ever afterwards, but I will do what you ask," she said.

Deringham, who was slightly bewildered by something in her attitude, sighed with relief, and then turned with the grotesque resemblance of a smile in his face to greet Forel, who came in.

"Gillard has been called away south on business and has sent me word he can let me have the places at the opera-house for both nights," he said. "No doubt you have seen the great man in England with his regular company, but a treat of the kind is appreciated here, and Gillard bought up a row of places, the best in the house. My wife is wondering who she should ask, and would like to know if Miss Deringham has any preference."

Deringham glanced at his daughter, and then smiled at his host. "One feels a little diffident about returning a favour at somebody else's expense, but my kinsman Alton was very kind to us in the bush," he said.

Forel appeared a trifle embarrassed, and Alice Deringham felt her neck grow warm as she watched him. "We can talk about it later, but I scarcely think Mr. Alton would come just now if he was asked," he said.

The girl turned away, for she could comprehend Forel's discomfiture, while as they followed him her father touched her.

"Get Mr. Alton there on the second night, and that is all I ask," he said.

It was two days later, when Alton returned to his office in a somewhat uncertain temper. He had called at Forel's house the previous evening, and been informed that Mrs. Forel was not at home, though the blaze of lights and music made it evident that she was entertaining a good many guests. He had also waited a considerable time for a banker who had been apparently willing to make him certain advances a few days earlier, and when he came to complete the transaction, raised wholly unexpected difficulties. Afterwards he called upon a dealer in tools and sawmill machinery, who, after professing his willingness to deal with him on usual easy terms, demanded a cheque with the order. Alton fancied he recognized the hand of Hallam in this, but there was also something else which troubled him. Some of the men he had business with had been a trifle abrupt in their greetings, and others smiled sardonically when they saw him.

As he strode down the corridor the keeper of the building signed to him. "There was a young man here asking for you," he said. "Told me he was Mr. Townshead, and he'd be back again."

Alton had scarcely reopened his office when a produce broker he had dealings with came in. "I've worked off the first two car-loads, and you can send some more along," he said. "Now, it's not quite my business, but if you'll not stand out about the usual commission I can put you on to a man who wants a hundred fat cattle."

"It's a deal," said Alton, glancing thoughtfully at his visitor, whom he considered an honest man. "Now I think you know a good deal about all that goes on in this city?"

"Oh, yes," said the other man, "I have to. Glad to be of any use to you I can."