Sisters

n such undignified dread. The sight of her handwriting paled his brown face and set his stout heart fluttering. What did she want of him? He kept the letter unopened for

ected house, and had not been fumigated, and cast a hurried glance over the con

he had been from his birth like a child of her own, but Mr Carey would understand that she could not now continue her labour of love on his behalf-that she had others to consider. But she knew of a most excellent substitute-a dear friend of her ow

leave were unexpended still. He must think it over. He must have advice. So, as a first instalment of duty, he scrawled a recklessly affectionate letter, full of gratitude to her who had been his good genius and the guardian angel of his boy. He did not disguise his envy of the general merchant, whose vows of love could not have excelled in fervent expression the good wishes of the writer for the happiness of the betrothed pair. He hoped to have the pleasure o

ic difficulties could not have sought a wiser confidante. Yet he resisted stubbornly all her gentle invitations to confide. In the first place, he did not want to go with her in the pony-carriage, while Deb and Dalzell rode. He did not like to see it taken for granted,

o "school a bit" a creature which for weeks had not allowed a man upon his back, and had had no exercise beyond his voluntary scamperings about the paddock from which he had been brought, dancing with excitement and indignation. All the stablemen had been required to get his bridle and saddle on; he now wheeled ro

s she desired him. Through those fine fingers, with the polished filbert nails, the shortened reins were drawn and held as by clamps of steel; so was the wild-eyed head by the lock of mane in the same hand. When no one was looking-although every eye believed itself fixed upon him-his left foot found its stirrup, his right gave a ho

ong teeth, "that the cranky beast would break

oy. Right willingly he went, and they sailed away together like the wind, and were lost to view. Yes, this was Dalzell's hour. She kn

a load of ironwork for a blacksmith on the route; last of all, Mary and the sailor, for all the world like the old father and mother of the party. Mr Pennycuick excused himself fro

ts not to bore his hostess. They talked about the clear air and the dun-coloured land-the richest sheep-country in the colony, but now without a blade of green upon it-and made

ng was a diff

t to the stables; and the young sailor, panting to emulate the prowess of his rival, and thereby compel M

uppy long possessed, but only now old enough to le

"You could make a better lap on the lower seat. I could ride your horse h

from somewhere, with swift steps and a brill

, "Molly and I are going to change skirts. I am tired with my ride thi

miles absolutely alone with her! And possibly half of them in the dark! No saddle hors

Deborah!-deligh

thunder, swung aside,

ollowed. "DID you hear what he sai

awl broke in, "and get re

xing up a young baby going out with its nurse. He insisted that she should wear a s

she asked, fondling it,

," said he.

and fallals that Bundaboo seems

smiled

apa, you

ed to adjust it, with gentle skill. Then h

chilly presently. No, she'd better drive-she kn

, as they drove off. "He has been a secon

ing anxious not to appear to be

id, lolling back in her seat. "And I'm sure I don't want to look at d

e," he assured

way. He was an unsophisticated sailor-lad, who, with that rival's help, had reached a certain stage and crisis-another one-of his man's life; and-let us be honest in our diagnosis-the bubbles of Mr Thornycroft's fine champagne

epherds were killed by the blacks," said Deb, as she pushed the ponies up to the wall, and he rose in the carriage to look over the top, "and they buried them here, marking the place with a pile of stones. There were other deaths, and they enclosed the piece of land. Then a brother of Mr Dalze

he part of the enclosure which had once been a garden around them. Out of it, like sea-stripped wrecks, dead sticks of rose-bushes poked up, and ragged things that had gone to seed. The turf was parched away, l

ften, and bring water from the dam. But one forgets as time goes on; one doesn't think-or care. Poor dead

the ghost-woman fifteen months old had no chance with the glowing live woman born into his life but yesterday; and no

t comes to Redford must see that, or father will want to know the reason why. 'Pennycuick's Folly' some people call it, because he sp

shining like a mirror in a setting of soft-bosomed hills, their dun da

ointing with her whip to a white shed on the farther shore. "And swimming matches. We used sometimes, when we were younger, to come down on hot ni

charm

k cushions and things, and it was great fun; but Keziah

a great distance curlews wailed, only to make the stillness and solitude more exquisite, more profound. The purple of the hills grew deeper and softer, the lake a mere puls

is soul to Debo

told Alice, with some omissions and additions. He took a

and certain accessories, tried her best to be pra

re does this friend live who

dge-all at

dear, nice woman-she is our overseer's wife-who has no children, and is dying to get hold of one somehow or other. We might make some arr

gratitude too vast for words. Ah! there was no hanging back now!

on your return, to help you with him, and tell you what Mrs Kelsey says-though I have no doubt of what it will be. But we'll k

s were too much for him. They were talking of the baby, and the word "love" had not been, and was not going to be, mention

nd with it held him back, meeting his

-don't! Don't spoil

nish insolence with anybody, was never hard upon the humble admirer-only too soft, in fact, with all her basic firmness, and incapable of t

roke fr

avagely, and by a violent effort co

ning the ponies from the embankme