John Caldigate

ea into which the little river runs on which Melbourne is built. After leaving the tropics they had gone down south, and had encountered showers and wind, and col

he dangerous attractions of casual companions by a composed manner and unenthusiastic conversation. Who does not know the sagacious lady who, after sitting at table with the same gentleman for a month, can say, 'Good-bye, Mr. Jones,' just as though Mr. Jones had been a stranger under her notice but for a day. But others gush out, and when Mr. Jones takes his departure, hardly know how not to throw themselves into his arms. The intercourse between our hero and Mrs. Smith had been such that, as a gentleman, he could not leave her without some allusion to future meetings. That was all up to the evening before their arrival. The whole ship's company, captain, officers, quarter-masters, passengers, and all, were quite sure that she had succeeded in getting a promise of marriage from him. But there had been nothing of the kind. Among others, Dick Shand was sure that there was some entanglement. Entanglem

to do when you lan

he new and now much reputed Ahalala diggings, at which they purposed to make their first debut. It had been decided that they would go direct from Melbourne to Nobble,- not round by Sydney so as to see more of the world, and thus spend more money,- but by the direct route, taking the railway to Albury and the coaches, which they wer

when we land?' Caldigate

tled. But I suppose you are

ave got into such a way of life that I didn't kno

u are, I don't doubt,' said Dick.

r Albury. We must have our heavy things sent round by sea to Sydney, and get them fro

l confidence between them, but in conf

rs. Smith and Caldigate began their last conversation on board the Goldfinder,-

e to the end of

end of

the finish? Here I have been fairly comfortable and have in many respects enjoyed it. I have had you to

know yo

when I land. You have enough on your own hands; and if I were to be a burden to

k that would st

il if he ventured to object to any little delay that might be occasioned by looking after me. Then Mr. Shand

poken in such an emergency these were the most foolish; an

she answered, laughing; 'but I should be

part. And what

a pause. 'Perhaps I should want you to - marry me,

se to it. If you have never looked at the fence at all,- if you have ridden quite the other way, making for some safe gate or clinging to the dull lane,- then there will be no excitement, but also there will be no danger and no di

ant me for always. I should be a burden

a man is always t

to get service in no other way; or a man, poor in another way, may find an heiress convenient;- but otherwise I think men only marry when they are caught. Wo

t been awa

t that your mind is vacillating

ly, I li

now that I

not k

gether it would not be civil to intrude upon their privacy. At this time it was dark; but their eyes had become used to the gloom, and each could see the other's face. 'Love you!' she repeated, looking up at him, speaking in a very low voice, but yet, oh so clearly, so that not a fraction of a sound was lost to his ears, with no special emotion in her face, with no contortion, no grimace, but with her eyes fixed upon his. 'How should it be possible that I should no

,' he

know of me, and ignorant as you are of so much, that to marry me might be - ruin.' It was just what he had told hims

ave been so among the c

" Coming from her it was absurd. But there was some truth in it. You know that were you to marry me, say to-

want to

oh then, what a heaven of happiness I should think had been opened to me by the idea of joining my

mething in contradiction to it - something that should have the same flavour about it as had her self-abnegation an

is t

rse I l

o be of cou

art from you now, as though we we

not quit

arate us.' It was a foolish thing to say, but he did not know how to speak without being foolish. It is not usual that a gentlem

for me. At any moment I will be your wife for the asking. But you shall go away first, and shall t

ght

are too good for me.' Then she rose from her place as though to leave him. 'I will go down now,' she said, 'because I know you will have many things to do. To-morrow, when we get up, we shall be in the harbour, and you

f the result of this intimacy. She had told him,- she herself,- that she had 'caught him', meaning thereby that he had been taken as a rabbit with a snare or a fish with a baited hook. If it had been so, surely she would not herself have said so. And yet he was aware how common it is for a delinquent to cover his own delinquency by declaring it. 'Of course I am idle,' says the idle one, escaping the disgrace of his idleness by his honesty. 'I

ible foundation has been taken away. In his dreams of life a man should never dream that which is altogether impossible. There had been something in the thought of Hester Bolton which had taken him back from the roughnesses of his new life, from the doubtful respectability of Mrs. Smith, from the squalor of the second-class from the wh

hich he was fated to lead. She was handsome, intellectual, a most delightful companion, and yet capable of enduring the hardships of an adventurous uncertain career. Ought he not to think himself peculiarly lucky in having found for himself so eligible a companion? But there is something so solemn, so sacred, in the name of wife. A man brough

, and not an unpleasant incident, in his life. He had had his amusement out of it, and she had had hers. Perhaps they would part t

' 'Twas thus she greeted him

bye, m

be for you to write to me. You will not hear from me unless you do. Indeed I shall know noth

ring all that time Mrs. Smith was not seen by Caldigate. As he got into the boat which took him and Shand from the ship to the pier at Sandridge she kissed her hand