."

"Where is she?" said Mrs. Whyte, speaking for the first time. "Of course
we will do so."

That night the widow of Whyte's old mate, Bill Johnson, died and the
house of Whyte had an additional inmate in the shape of a tousled-haired
little girl, removed from a tenement in Little Bourke Street, one of the
lowest slums in Melbourne. When Amy Johnson found herself in the midst
of these novel surroundings, and experienced the delights of new and
warm clothing and of plenty of good things to eat, and the disagreeables
of having her face and hands washed oftener than she thought necessary,
her equilibrium was completely upset. But time and careful handling soon
made her forget her old ways. As she grew up, she developed startling
qualities of mind and body, united to a loveable disposition, that she
soon filled the gap in the home of the old couple. At the age of eight
she was sent to school, where she early distinguished herself and became
a great favourite with the teacher, as with her schoolfellows. Her life
was one of sunny happiness, the more so because she was completely
unspoiled. Though she never knew trouble, she could yet sympathize with
it, and she returned the idolization of her adopted parents with a love
and consideration that caused them to bless the day that saw them on
their errand of mercy to Melbourne Hospital.

Meanwhile, the occupants of the summer-house in Brixton were passing the
time in lover-like reminiscences.

"Do you remember the first time we met, Amy?" said Reginald Morris, as
he fondly stroked her hand.

"We met, 'twas in a crowd, upon the mighty ocean, on board the steamship
_Ormuz_," answered Amy, in mock-tragedy. "Yes, I remember it well," she
added, with a happy little sigh.

"I can remember every incident of the voyage, though it's three years
ago. I thought it was going to be a disagreeable voyage for me, and I
was seriously thinking of landing at Adelaide, when I made the
acquaintance of your dear old dad, and that changed the whole purpose of
my life. I can see him now as he came up to me with his frank smile and
said in his cheery voice: 'My name is Oliver Whyte, sir.' My heart went
out to him after his hearty greeting, and we soon became fast friends.
Then he introduced me to his dear old wife, and a pert little kid--"

"Take that for your impertinence," interrupted Amy, boxing his ears
lightly.

"I mean a smart young lady. I can see her now, and she captured my heart
on t