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Wotton, the gentleman in charge of the Aboriginal station at Mount Rouse, stating that a rumour had reached him that a considerable number of Aborigines had been poisoned at the station of Dr. Kilgour, near Port Fairy.
He turned his scowling gaze away from the flowers and found Miss Kilgour looking at him with an expression in her eyes he had never seen there before. Reproach and scorn seemed to mingle in the stare she gave him. He blinked, and when he looked again she was examining the point of her pencil; he decided that his eyesight had played him a strange prank.
She tried to exhibit protesting indignation and failed. "Come to me when you are yourself." "There's no more of this to-morrow business goes with me, Mrs. Kilgour. I'll admit that you're Kate's mother. But just now you are something else. You have tried to do me, and nobody gets by with that stuff man, woman, or child. We'll have our settlement here and now." "I did the best I could," she wailed.
Walker Farr shut his eyes suddenly, as a man tries to wink away what he considers an illusion, and then opened his eyes and made sure that she was what she seemed; there was no mistaking that face it was Kate Kilgour. He stared after her. She halted on the next corner, peered up at the dingy street light to make sure of the sign legend on its globe and then turned down an alley.
Under the careful superintendence of Corporal Kilgour, however, their hilarity never passed the bounds of respectful propriety, and, by the time we had eaten our suppers, cooked in the open air with the simple apparatus of a tea-kettle and frying-pan, we were, one and all, ready to retire to our rest.
Briggs, closing his note-book. "And of course there's worse to come! Posing as a reformer that's the way such renegades work the thing. A new game for every new place!" And Kate Kilgour, remembering the vagrant on the broad highway, wrote down the arraignment of this person, trying to understand her emotions. Her own eyes had seen him garbed as a tramp, plainly a homeless nomad.
He therefore urged her to an immediate marriage; and when Mistress Kilgour was taken into counsel, she encouraged the idea, because of the talk which was sure to follow such a flagrant breach of the courtesies of life.
And yet, after he had told her, this enigma of a man bowed his head and edged his way to the door, moving unobtrusively through the press of humanity, taking advantage of the confusion which marked the entrance of Archer Converse. Impulse goaded Kate Kilgour at that moment. She did not reason or reflect.
"You see, Miss Kilgour," she said with a sigh, "what that poor girl's folly has led her to." "I see what she has come to. I'm not blaming Sophy, however." "Well, whoever is to blame and I suppose Braelands should have been more patient with the troubles he called to himself I shall have to put on 'blacks' in consequence.
But Madame had also been nursing her wrath, and as soon as Mistress Kilgour had appeared, she asked angrily: "Where is that niece of yours, Mistress Kilgour? I should very much like to know." The tone of the question irritated the dressmaker, and instantly her sympathies flew toward her own kith, and kin, and class.
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