"I like it very much," said Christina soberly.
"Better than Melbourne?"
"Oh, infinitely."
"And England?"
"Yes, better than England—I can't help it," Tiny added apologetically.
"There's no reason why you should," said Lady Dromard, with a smile. "I could imagine your quite disliking England after Australia. I'm sure my son disliked it when he first came back."
"Did he?" the girl said indifferently. "Ah, well! I don't dislike England. I admire it very much, and, of course, it is ever so much better than Australia in every way. We have no villages like Essingham out there, no red tiles and old churches, and certainly no villagers who treat you like a queen on wheels when you walk down the street. We've nothing of that sort—nor of this sort either—no splendid old houses and beautiful old grounds! But I can't help it, I'd rather live out there. Give me the bush!"
"You are enthusiastic about the bush," said Lady Dromard, laughing; "yet you don't know how fresh enthusiasm is to one nowadays."
"I'm afraid I'm not enthusiastic about anything else, then," answered Christina with engaging candor. "They tell me I don't half appreciate England; I disappoint all my friends here."
"Ah, that is perhaps your little joke at our expense!"