Tom Gerrard

seat opposite his sister with a smiling face, and in a few minutes, under the sunshine of his genial manner, Mrs West

hree days before you expected me, L

a letter from him this morning. He said in his last letter he would be sure to return

r than I expected. Then at Melbourne I caught the steamer for Port Albert, just as she was leaving. At Port Albert, instead of waiting two days for the coach for Marumba

ssary expense, Thom

n and all included, didn

h fare would have been but three pounds!

uy the horses, and all the gear from me. I think I can jew him in

rty

d to be shocked at the word 'quid.' You know you've heard all th

homas-too frequen

n't matter now. By-the-way, doesn'

s. I'm sure she and that dreadful boy Jim will get you to inspect their 'cubby house' down on the river bank in the course of the day. Sometimes Edw

s much of a boy as he was twenty year

ard was travelling to Sydney in the Balclutha, he-as he always does-made the acquaintance of every seaman on board. One of them, a quartermaster, turned out to be the man who had been washed on shore from the Cassowary. Of course Edward was very much interested, a

the boy'

m, but what was their name was never ascertained. It was believed that they were newly-arrived emigrants, for no inquiries were made from any quarter about them, and so Coll, who seems to be a very kind m

said Gerrard gravely, "and shows him

or-the father, I suppose, earns about seven pounds a month as quartermaster, and there are nine children. I think it was ridiculous of

act they must have been, or they would not have kept him for six years,

s what they sho

ou known of the matter. You have father's heart, Lizzie, under that pretty blouse of yo

old-hearte

her moment, Mrs Westonley found herself

ve said in the past I 'take back' as we bushmen say, and I want you to give me some of your affection. I know you have tons of it concealed under that prim little manner of yours, but you are too proud to show it. And see, Liz

I cannot-I really cannot change my nature and be anything more than politely civil to the friends he sometimes brings here-they are rough, noisy and bucolic. I am always urging him to leave a manager at M

rnished room, and, mentally compared it with his ow

s, Lizzie," he said; "there are not many such

f the country houses in England, Thomas. And then another reas

on girls at Black River station, only ten miles away; th

ret of it. Her father was a fishcurer at In

nd bears herself like a

s from an old Scottish family, could marry her, I cannot unde

a very happy man

l over the country after kangaroos, in company with a lot of rough men in shirts and moleskins, attending

Brooke?" asked Gerrard; "surely they

t, and her mother has absolutely no control of her; then Mr Brooke himself is more

ent in despair. "I'll tell you what you want, Lizzie," he said,

it is hot, dusty, dir

n Sy

ill stay there more than a week-he is always

, and see what I can do wi

Then we'll see this cubby house, and

d Gerrard stretched himself out in a squatter's chair on the verandah to smoke h

le, and the owner of it wondered what made her voice

r. He, you, and Mary, and I are a

nt, the boy came to her to where

, this

d up and held

sunburnt face. "By Jove! you are a big chap for a ten year old b

lor, sir; but now I'm g

urdy chest, and his face was almost as deeply bronzed as that of Gerrard himself, and two big, honest brown eyes m

and you'll have to tote me around, and ke

s,

in Marum

m, Murray cod, jew fish, and spe

nough. Got fishing

s,

along. Where i

dancing with pleasure; "she was too excited to eat any breakfast, unt

anything-from fishing to riding bull calves, or cutting out a wild bees' nest from a gum tree

saddle

r, tailless gentleman," and he jumped to his fee

and the children looked wonderingly a