My word! What with you and what with Arty I'm made thoroughly
wretched. You mayn't think so to look at me, Mr. Hawkins," she rattled
on, holding out her hand to Ned; "but it is so. You see I know you. I
heard Nellie introducing you. That husband of mine must leave all
conventionalism to his guests, it seems. You're incorrigible, Harry."

There was a welcome in her every word and look. She put him on a friendly
footing at once.

"You have enough conventionalism to-night for us both, my fine lady,"
twitted Stratton, pinching her arm.

"Stop that! Stop, this minute! Nellie, hit him for me. Mr. Hawkins, this
is Bohemia. You do as you like. You say what you like. You are welcome
to-night for Nellie's sake. You will be welcome always because I like
your looks. I do, Harry, so there. And I'm going to call you Ned because
Nellie always does. Oh! I forgot--Mr. Hawkins, Mr. Ford. Mr. Ford
thinks he can cartoon. I don't know what you think you can do. And now,
everybody, come to coffee."

The others came in from the verandah, still laughing, whereat Mrs.
Stratton flushed red again and denounced Josie and George for hiding
away, then introduced them and Arty to Ned. There was a babel of
conversation for awhile, Josie and George talking of their boating,
Connie and Ford of the opera, Stratton and Arty of a picture they had
seen that evening. Geisner sat by Ned and Nellie, the three chatting of
the beauty of Sydney harbour, the little man waxing indignant at the
vandalism which the naval authorities were perpetrating on Garden Island.
Mrs. Stratton, all the time, attended energetically to her coffee-pot:
Finally she served them all, in small green-patterned china cups, with
strong black coffee guiltless of milk, in each cup a slice of lemon
floating, in each saucer a biscuit.

"I hope you like your coffee, Ned," she exclaimed, a moment after. "I
forgot to ask you. I'm always forgetting to ask newcomers. You see all
the 'regulars' like it this way."

"I've never tasted it this way before," answered Ned. "I suppose liking
it's a habit, like smoking. I think I'll try it."

She nodded, being engaged in slowly sipping her own. Geisner looked at
Ned keenly. There was silence for a little while, broken only by the
clatter of cups and an occasional observation. From outside came the
ceaseless lap-lap-lapping of the waves, as if rain water was gurgling
down from the roof.

CHAPTER VI.

"WE HAVE SEEN THE DRY BONES BECOME MEN.