ort of thing. But if I wasn't over head and ears in
love when I resumed my walk that evening, well, I've never known what
the passion is.

A daintier, prettier, sweeter little angel surely never walked the earth
than the girl I had just been permitted the opportunity of rescuing, and
from that moment forward I found my thoughts constantly reverting to
her. I seemed to retain the soft pressure of her fingers in mine for
hours afterwards, and as a proof of the perturbed state of my feelings I
may add that I congratulated myself warmly on having worn that day my
new and fashionable Sydney suit, instead of the garments in which I had
travelled down from Torres Straits, and which I had hitherto considered
quite good enough for even high days and holidays. That she herself
would remember me for more than an hour never struck me as being likely.

Next morning I donned my best suit again, gave myself an extra brush up,
and sauntered down town to see if I could run across her in the streets.
What reason I had for thinking I should is more than I can tell you, but
at any rate I was not destined to be disappointed. Crossing George
Street a carriage passed me, and in it sat the girl whose fair image had
exercised such an effect upon my mind. That she saw and recognized me
was evidenced by the gracious bow and smile with which she favoured me.
Then she passed out of sight, and it was a wonder that that minute
didn't see the end of my career, for I stood like one in a dream looking
in the direction in which she had gone, and it was not until two carts
and a brewer's wagon had nearly run me down that I realized it would be
safer for me to pursue my meditations on the side walk.

I got back to my hotel by lunch-time, and during the progress of that
meal a brilliant idea struck me. Supposing I plucked up courage and
called? Why not? It would be only a polite action to inquire if she were
any the worse for her fright. The thought was no sooner born in my brain
than I was eager to be off. But it was too early for such a formal
business, so I had to cool my heels in the hall for an hour. Then,
hailing a hansom and inquiring the direction of their residence, I drove
off to Potts Point. The house was the last in the street--an imposing
mansion standing in well-laid-out grounds. The butler answered my ring,
and in response to my inquiry dashed my hopes to the ground by informing
me that Miss Wetherell was out.

"She's very busy, you see, a