"'E came to Templemorton after 'e came back, and I remember them talking
'im over after 'e'd gone again."

"Haw?" said Mrs. Mackridge, interrogatively.

"'Is fuss was quotin' poetry, ma'am. 'E said--what was it 'e said--'They
lef' their country for their country's good,'--which in some way was
took to remind them of their being originally convic's, though now
reformed. Every one I 'eard speak, agreed it was takless of 'im."

"Sir Roderick used to say," said Mrs. Mackridge, "that the First
Thing,"--here Mrs. Mackridge paused and looked dreadfully at me--"and
the Second Thing"--here she fixed me again--"and the Third Thing"--now I
was released--"needed in a colonial governor is Tact." She became aware
of my doubts again, and added predominantly, "It has always struck me
that that was a Singularly True Remark."

I resolved that if ever I found this polypus of Tact growing up in my
soul, I would tear it out by the roots, throw it forth and stamp on it.

"They're queer people--colonials," said Rabbits, "very queer. When I was
at Templemorton I see something of 'em. Queer fellows, some of 'em. Very
respectful of course, free with their money in a spasammy sort of way,
but--Some of 'em, I must confess, make me nervous. They have an eye
on you. They watch you--as you wait. They let themselves appear to be
lookin' at you..."

My mother said nothing in that discussion. The word colonies always
upset her. She was afraid, I think, that if she turned her mind in that
direction my errant father might suddenly and shockingly be