to the Wyvern? Shuh! you brute! He shan't hurt you, my dear ladies.
I'll stand between."

We had recovered our senses, however, enough to see that it was only a
harmless kangaroo; and Dora came running out, followed by Harold,
caressing the beast, calling it poor Nanny, and asking where he should
shut it up for the night.

I suggested an outhouse, and we conducted the creature thither in
procession, hearing by the way that the kangaroo's mother had been
shot, and that the animal itself, then very young, and no bigger than a
cat, had taken Harold's open shirt front for her pouch and leaped into
his bosom, and that it had been brought up to its present stature tame
at Boola Boola. Viola went with us, fed the kangaroo, and was so much
interested and delighted, that she could hardly go away, Eustace making
her a most elaborate and rather absurd bow, being evidently much
impressed by the carriage and liveried servants who were waiting for
her.

"Like the Governor's lady!" he said. "And I know, for I've been to a
ball at Government House."

He plainly cared much more for appearances than did Harold. He was not
so tall, much slighter, with darker hair, rather too shiny, and a
neatly turned up moustache, a gorgeous tie and watch chain, a brilliant
breast pin, a more brilliant ring, and a general air that made me
conclude that he regarded himself as a Sydney beau. But Harold, in his
loose, rough grey suit, was very different. His height was
extraordinary, his breadth of chest and shoulder equally gigantic,
though well proportioned, and with a look of easy strength, and, as
Viola had said, his head was very much what one knows as the Lion
Heart's, not Marochetti's trim carpet knight, but Vertue's rugged
portrait from the monument at Fontevrand. There was the same massive
breadth of feature, large yet not heavy, being relieved by the
exceeding keenness and quickness of the light but very blue eyes, which
seemed to see everywhere round in a moment, as men do in wild
countries. The short thick yellow curly beard and moustache veiled the
lower part of the face; but the general expression, when still, was
decidedly a sad one, though a word or a trick of Dora's would call up a
smile all over the browned cheeks and bright eyes. His form and
colouring must have come from the Cumberland statesman, but people said
his voice and expression had much of his father in them; and no one
could think him ungentlemanly, though he w