"Oh, yes! A great-uncle of Mother's went out to Auckland years and years ago, and married a native. I had just a peep at this cousin when we were in London. Of course she's very peculiar-looking, but we like her, don't we, Mildred? I rather admire her dark complexion."
"She's absolutely ripping!" affirmed Mildred cordially.
"I thought I'd better prepare you for the fact that she's a real New Zealander," continued Violet. "Come along and see her. She's sitting in the gun-room. She seems to like it better than anywhere else in the house."
"Queer taste for a girl," commented Diccon.
"She enjoys being amongst weapons," explained Violet. "I suppose it's a savage instinct. It takes a long time to eradicate the old Adam. Her New Zealand grandfather was a very warlike character."
"Swung a tomahawk, did he?"
"They're not called tomahawks in New Zealand. You're thinking of Fenimore Cooper's American Indians. But never mind, come and be introduced to Rata."
"Is that her name?"
"Yes; don't you think it's pretty?"
"Oh, well enough! Look here, what am I to say? Does she speak English?"