merely agrees. One of these days we're going to build a
big hotel in Ballarat, and settle down. It won't be till the rushes peg
out, as they're bound to do in time; but certificates of marriage are
getting quite common amongst married people here, and we thought it would
be as well to be in the fashion.' Mrs. Ben laughed boisterously.

'Well,' said Jim, smiling, 'a couple who disagree as pleasantly as you do
can't go far wrong in marrying.'

'The customers at a decent family hotel would expect it, I think,' Mary
added soberly.

'Jonathan Prator married his wife a week 'r two back, an' he's skitin'
about it,' grumbled Ben.

So Jim remained for the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Ben Kyley, which was
quite a public ceremony. He was Ben's best man, and he gave the rosy
bride the prettiest brooches, rings, and bangles he could buy in
Ballarat, and left, the blushless couple to the enjoyment of their
honeymoon with his warmest blessing. Mary nearly smothered him in a
billowy hug as he was trying to thank them for their goodness.

'Leave a kind word for my poor girl,' she said, 'and the minute she comes
back I'll write you.'

'Tell her I shall be a miserable devil till I hear of her dancing jigs on
Mary Kyley's bar counter again,' said Jim. 'And tell her she wrongs me
when she says there is nothing of her in this heart of mine. She is an
ineradicable part of it.'

Done found the Peetrees working a fairly profitable mine at Blanket Flat,
a sort of tributary field to Jim Crow, and situated about three miles
distant from the original rush. Harry stood in with Done, and the two
pegged out a claim and set to work; but Jim did not derive the
satisfaction he had expected from this return to his friends and his
familiar pursuits. His weakness clung to him, and he was subject to pains
in the head. His missed Mike more than ever now, and permitted the idea
that he had blasted Aurora's happiness to worry him a good deal. He
remembered the blithe heartiness of the girl in the early days of their
acquaintance, and the image of the pale, worn face he had last seen
haunted him with an abiding reproach. He could not enjoy the life, the
scenes, and the companionship that had delighted him, and believed the
capacity would never come back to him.

He had been on Blanket Flat less than a fortnight when one morning Harry
thrust his head into the tent.

'Blowed if there ain't a lady here to see you, Jim!' he said.

'A lady?' Jim's first thoug