ethodically, and
always with a handbag. To what place he went I do not know. Neither I
think did Mrs. Hastings or his employers. At the end of a week he
would reappear, clothed as when he went away, but looking ill and
shaken. For a few days afterwards he was always exceedingly subdued,
ate little, and talked hardly at all. But by the end of a week he was
himself again, and remained perfectly serene and normal until the time
of his next disappearance. I once happened to see the contents of the
handbag. They consisted of an old, rather ragged Norfolk coat and
trousers and a suit of pyjamas; nothing else.

Mr. Smith was a sort of time-keeper at the works of Messrs. Poutney,
Riggs, Poutney and Co., the wholesale builders' and masons' material
people. I was informed that he had once been the chief traveller for
this old-established firm, on a salary of seven hundred pounds a year,
with a handsome commission, and all travelling expenses paid. His
salary now was two pounds twelve shillings and sixpence a week; and I
apprehend that his services were retained by the firm rather by virtue
of what he had done in the past than for the sake of what he was doing
at this time. I was told that commercial travelling in New South
Wales, when Mr. Smith had been in his prime, was a dashing profession
which produced many drunkards. But from Mr. Smith himself I never
heard a word about his previous life.

I recall many small kindnesses received at his hands, and at the
outset the domestic routine of my Sydney life was largely arranged for
me by Mr. Smith.

'Never wear a collar more than once, or a white shirt more than
twice,' was one of the first instructions I received from him.
Subsequently he modified this a little for me, upon economic grounds,
advising me to take special care of my shirt on Sunday, in order that
it might serve for Monday and Tuesday. 'Then you've two days each for
the other two shirts in each week, you see. But socks and collars you
change every day. In Sydney you must never wear a coloured shirt;
always a stiff, white shirt, in Sydney.'

On my second evening there Mr. Smith took me to a hatter's shop and
chose a billycock hat for me, in place of the soft felt which I
usually wore.

'You must have a hard hat in Sydney,' he said, 'except in real hot
weather; and then you could wear a flat straw, if you liked. I prefer
a grey hard hat for summer. But straw will do for a youngster. You
should have a pair of gloves