"I take no credit to myself; my daughter Maud takes them in hand."
"That accounts for their 'grace and goodness,'" remarked the Irishman; "merely to come in contact with some people is to be the better for it."
"It is," said the doctor, "the affection my daughter lavishes on them that wins. If you take interest in human beings, you know, you can get even better results than from horses and dogs."
"I think it very rude of you, Mr. O'Lochlan," remarked Maud playfully, but not without a blush, "to discuss our servants. I shall criticize the appointments of your house when we visit Bullaroo."
"Mine's a wild barracks sort of place, I fear, but we will get the 'married couple' to tidy up and give you a welcome, such as it is, when you do come."
"We shall have to send some of our people across," suggested the doctor, "to show your folk how to work."
"Excuse me, I would not have one at any price. I do not believe in co-operative slaveys. Menials are all very well in their place."
"Do not our men and maids 'know their place'?" inquired Hilda.
"None dare presume in Miss Hilda's presence—or that of her mother."
"I think I know one who has done so, nevertheless," was the quick rejoinder, "just a little."
"It's all in a good cause, so forgive me. You see I am trying to learn all I can of your emigrants."
"You certainly have altered the appearance of this prime piece of country," remarked O'Lochlan, as the doctor and he rode across the valley.
The pair halted in the midst of the settlement. Two miles down the valley, and athwart it, ran the lines of
