decorated in branches
of wattle and boughs of eucalyptus, looked very festive. The gathering
had something of the nature of a surprise party in that most of the
guests brought something to eat or drink. But most of them, in delicate
compliment to the changed fortunes of Loose End, brought not necessities
but luxuries. Jerry's gramophone was still hoarsely valiant; three
Italians from Klondyke, manganese miners, brought mandolines; Jerry had
recently acquired a mouth-organ with bells.

Marcella was always rather depressed about celebrations. Always Louis
said, easily, that he would be safe; always he joined forces with the
hard-bitten, hard-toiling miners who each brought his bottle of whisky
and drank it without ill-effect. She could do nothing to help him: he
resented her anxiety more and more as time went on.

The Homestead had grown. At the south side a big storeroom had been
built: at one end of it flour-bags were stocked, both empty and full, to
serve as seats for the dancers when they were exhausted. The guests sat
long over tea, yarning, chaffing, gossiping and talking business; as it
grew dusk the men sat on the verandah, smoking reflectively, talking
little. In the living room the women all chattered at once. Louis had
been working during the day on the gorse clearing again; until it was
all burnt off it was a constant menace, for wind-blown seeds and
underground leaders seemed to spring up spitefully in the midst of
growing lucerne and wheat. Marcella's beloved garden had had a struggle
against it: so had Mrs. Twist's patch of vegetables, so they were all
making a gigantic effort to uproot the whole thing and get rid of it.
Across the clearing the fire crackled and blazed and died down to a
ruddy glow; in the storeroom Jerry's gramophone led off with "Oh Dry
those Tears," and the youngsters started to dance. A new record was put
on, because "Oh Dry those Tears" was not conducive; the sound of
rhythmically beating feet drew the others towards the ballroom, and
Marcella was left on the verandah listening to the barking of some
half-dozen dogs, brought by the guests and tied up behind the Homestead.
She knew that the massed force of cups and tumblers was not quite
sufficient and decided to wash them before they would be needed for
relays of coffee.

She was feeling very wretched; it was the end of the month; in two days
Louis, already nervy and restless, would get the month's money, either
by persuasion or for