Holman found you, isn't it?" she asked mischievously.

"No, it isn't true," I spluttered. "I only asked Mr. Holman a question
to see if he was familiar with 'Pilgrim's Progress'."

"Why did you ask him that?" she quizzed. "I'm sure he looks a perfectly
respectable young man."

Miss Edith was smiling, but she took pity upon me at last and
endeavoured to rescue me from my tormentor.

"Oh, Barbara!" she cried reprovingly, "Mr. Verslun will think you are
very inquisitive. You must not pry into his private affairs."

"But it is nothing private," I gurgled. "I simply asked Mr. Holman a
question in an endeavour to find out what a Maori and a Fijian were
talking about."

"Oh, it is something mysterious!" cried the younger girl. "I knew it! I
knew it! We are getting into the region of mystery at last! Oh, Mr.
Verslun, you are a perfect treasure! It has been a nasty, dull, old trip
from the moment we left Sydney Harbour, and you are the first person to
bring a little colour into the voyage."

She was so worked up at the thought of hearing something wonderfully
mysterious and romantic that I started to make a long yarn out of that
incident on the wharf just for her benefit. Miss Edith was interested
too, but I was convinced, as I polished up the points of the little tale
and endeavoured to pull in a thrill, that the elder sister was deriving
her pleasure from watching the face of the younger one, and not from my