places at once than any other man on the face of the earth. His
coach was horsed by the neighbouring squatters, through whose stations
the road ran; and any horse that developed homicidal tendencies, or
exhibited a disinclination to work, was at once handed over to the
mailman to be licked into shape. The result was that, as a rule, Pat
was driving teams composed of animals that would do anything but go
straight, but under his handling they were generally persuaded, after a
day or two, to settle down to their work.

On the day when Hugh and Mrs. Gordon read Mr. Grant's letter at Kuryong,
the train deposited at Tarrong a self-reliant young lady of about
twenty, accompanied by nearly a truck-full of luggage--solid leather
portmanteaux, canvas-covered bags, iron boxes, and so on--which produced
a great sensation among the rustics. She was handsome enough to be
called a beauty, and everything about her spoke of exuberant health and
vitality. Her figure was supple, and she had the clear pink and white
complexion which belongs to cold climates.

She seemed accustomed to being waited on, and watched without emotion
the guard and the solitary railway official--porter, station-master,
telegraph-operator and lantern-man, all rolled into one--haul her
hundredweights of luggage out of the train. Then she told the perspiring
station-master, etc., to please have the luggage sent to the hotel, and
marched over to that building in quite an assured way, carrying a small
handbag. Three commercial travellers, who had come up by the same train,
followed her off the platform, and the most gallant of the three winked
at his friends, and then stepped up and offered to carry her bag. The
young lady gave him a pleasant smile, and handed him the bag;
together they crossed the street, while the other commercials marched
disconsolately behind. At the door of the hotel she took the bag from
her cavalier, and there and then, in broad Australian daylight, rewarded
him with twopence--a disaster which caused him to apply to his firm
for transfer to some foreign country at once. She marched into the bar,
where Dan, the landlord's son, was sweeping, while Mrs. Connellan,
the landlady, was wiping glasses in the midst of a stale fragrance of
overnight beer and tobacco-smoke.

"I am going to Kuryong," said the young lady, "and I expected to meet
Mr. Gordon here. Is he here?"

Mrs. Connellan looked at her open-eyed. Such an apparition was not often
seen