om had time to hunt, and did not often drive
out, and he had grown much more independent. His share of Boola Boola
was likewise to be sold, for neither cousin felt any desire to keep up
the connection with the country where they had never had a happy home;
and he gave Harold full authority to transact the sale.

Perhaps we all had shared more or less in Dora's expectation that
Harold would come home from London with Prometesky's pardon in his
pocket; though I laughed at her, and Eustace was furious when we found
she thought he was to kneel before the Queen, present his petition, and
not only receive the pardon, but rise up Sir Harold Alison! It did
fall flat when he came back, having had very satisfactory interviews,
but only with the Secretaries of State, and having been assured that
Prometesky would be certainly pardoned, but that, as a matter of form,
some certificates of conduct and recommendations must be obtained from
New South Wales before the pardon could be issued.

This precipitated Harold's departure. Dermot was just well enough to
be likely to be the better for a voyage, and the first week in May was
fixed for their setting forth. A great box appeared in my
sitting-room, where Harold began to stow all manner of presents of
various descriptions for friends and their children, but chiefly for
the shepherds' families at Boola Boola; and in the midst, Mrs. Alison,
poor thing, brought a whole box of beautifully-knitted worsted
stockings, which she implored Harold to carry to her dear Henry; and he
actually let her pack them up, and promised that, if he ever found
Henry, they should be given. "And this little Bible," said the good
old lady; "maybe he has lost his own. Tell him it is his poor papa's,
and I know he will bring it back to me."

"He shall if I can make him," said Harold.

"And Harold, my dear," said Mrs. Alison, with her hand on his shoulder,
as he knelt by his box, "you'll go to see your own poor mamma?"

Harold started and winced. "My mother is in New Zealand," he said.

"Yes, my dear," said the old lady triumphantly; "but that's only the
other side of the way, for I looked in Lucy's map."

"And she has a husband," added Harold between his teeth, ignoring what
the other side of the way might mean.

"Yes, my dear, I know he is not a nice man, but you are her only one,
aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And I know what that is--not that I ever married anyone but your poor
uncle, nor ever would, n