"Look here! don't let's talk about me. What about this fellow?" said Jack, clenching his fist and banging it on the table.
"You should never have left Westralia. You kept your horses, you got your sport; you were on the way to becoming the big man of the district," said Kitty, not to be diverted from her theme. "Do you remember what a swell you were when you first found me, six—no, seven—I'm always forgetting that I'm nineteen—years ago, and how poor father and I were? Do you know I should never have been anything but a wild bush-girl if you hadn't taken me in hand and looked after me? Really you taught me everything! I believe that but for that I might have worn the wrong clothes!"
"Oh, nonsense! You were born all right," said Jack.
"Oh, yes, you did," said Kitty. "And when three years ago the gold was found, and father made his million, and died, appointing you my guardian, and you thought I ought to come to England and have some schooling, I believe you left Westralia just for my sake, to look after me."
"One always comes back to England," said Jack, quickly.
"You wouldn't have come but for that," said Kitty.
"Oh, yes, I should. Of course I should."
"I always thought it strange that father didn't leave you a few thousands a year for your trouble in looking after me and my fortune," said Kitty.
"He knew jolly well I shouldn't have taken it," said Jack, hotly.
There was a pause; and then she said thoughtfully—