"Oh, very much, very much indeed! It's a wonderful country; but my home has my dearest love. Life there is so pleasant, so steady-going. You can take pleasure at your own time, if you want to. Here in England it is all fever and excitement. When I stayed in London I felt as if it were a nightmare with the gas and glare and endless streets, with their endless crowds rushing on--on, without rest or pause. Ah, if you saw New Zealand I am sure you would like it. Do you know New Zealand?"
"No," answered Mrs. Belswin, quietly. "I do not know New Zealand; but I have been in Melbourne."
"Ah, that's too much like London."
"Say rather San Francisco. Melbourne is wonderfully like 'Frisco."
"Are you an American, Mrs. Belswin?"
"Yes; I was born in New Orleans."
"Then you are----"
"A Creole," finished Mrs. Belswin, quickly. "Yes, you can tell that from my appearance. I have black blood in my veins. In America it is thought a crime. Here it doesn't matter."
"I've got black blood in my veins also," said Kaituna, with a flush in her olive-tinted cheek; "that is Maori blood. My mother was the granddaughter of a chief."
Mrs. Belswin moved a few steps away, as she could not trust herself to speak, so tumultuous were the feelings raging in her bosom. Her child--her own child, and yet she dare not take her to her bosom and tell her the truth. The girl's innocent words wounded her to the quick, and it needed all the stoical resignation of her savage nature to enable her to preserve a calm demeanour.