her; but if
he could only assure her that he was living a sober, respectable life,
and intended doing so, she would come out to him just as soon as he had
a home ready. Then with many tears and prayers Ruth directed her letter
and went to bed.

Ah, poor Ruth! could she have foretold the fate of her letter, how would
the bright hopes she was entertaining have been quenched in darkness!

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VII.

THE FATE OF RUTH'S LETTER.

DICK GREENWOOD was slowly sauntering up one of the chief streets of the
city of Melbourne. Turning down a side street, he entered into a store,
and asked if any letters had been left there for him or his brother.

"Why, yes, I believe there's a packet knocking about. Jones, reach 'em
off that shelf," answered the foreman.

A letter from his mother, and another in a strange handwriting to John,
was passed across to Dick, who took them and left the store.

"That plaguey boy may fetch his own letters. Blowed if I'll waste my
time calling round; but who's been writing to him now, I wonder? Some
woman's hand. That means mischief, for sure!"

Dick turned the envelope over, and studied the calligraphy with an air
of uncertainty. Suddenly he exclaimed, half aloud:

"It's from that soft fool of a girl, I'll bet anything. She's found out
which way her bread was buttered, and means to come the doubles over
Jack; but not quite so easy done, my girl. The boy's got a brother
who'll look after him, so here goes;" and Dick tore open the envelope,
glanced at the signature, nodded his head in triumph, and deliberately
read the closely-written pages.

"The lying humbug! So that's the way she'd throw dust into Jack's eyes,
and he'd be as innocent as a new-born babe, and write back begging her
forgiveness, and telling her he'd be ready for her in a trice! Bah, how
I hate such tomfoolery!" and Dick tore the letter, which had been
written with so many tears and prayers, into a hundred fragments, and
sent them flying down the street.

Some days later found him back in a bush settlement, where he had, a few
months before, persuaded John to join him. Despite the latter's attempt
at bravado, he had left England with a very sore heart, and a resolve to
show Ruth that he could keep steady, and make his way in the new land.
He quite intended to save money towards preparing a home; and thought
that, in a year or two, he would write to Ruth, and ask her to overlook