“Of all things in the world what wouldst thou like the most, Leata?” he asked.
“To have thee always near me, Kinilosi,” she answered. “Before, I had no understanding and was like the black people in the missionary book, but now my heart is pained, so full it is with love.”
“But there are other things than love,” persisted Kinross. “Ear-rings, musical boxes, print for dresses.”
“Yes, many things,” she said. “But I trouble not myself about them, Kinilosi. But sometimes I think of the land behind our house and the fine plantation we will make there some day.”
“But if I gave you a little bag of gold shillings,” he said, “and took thee to Apia, my pigeon, what wouldst thou buy?”
“First I would give ten dollars to the new church,” she began. “Then for my father I would buy an umbrella, and a shiny bag in which he could carry his cartridges and tobacco when he goes to war. For my mother, also, an umbrella and a picture-book like that of the missionary’s, with photographs of Queen Victoria and captains of men-of-war. For my sister a Bible and a hymn-book, and for my brother a little pigeon gun.”
“O thou foolish Leata,” said Kinross, “and nothing for thyself?”
“There is still more in my bag,” she answered, “enough for a golden locket and a golden chain. And in the locket there will be your picture and a lock of your hair—like the one the naval officer gave Titi’s sister; and when I die, lo, no one shall touch it, for it shall lie on my breast in the grave!”
“To-morrow we shall go to Apia and buy them,” said Kinross. “This morning the pastor brought me a letter from Britain with a present of many dollars. The six acres I have already purchased, and in Apia I shall get prickly wire for fencing, and many things we need for the clearing and planting of the land.”
Leata clapped her hands for joy. “Oh, Kinilosi,” she cried, “it was breaking my heart. I feared the letter would make thee return to the White Country!”