try and hid
his hand, Aileen would have made it up with him that very Christmas, and
been a happy woman all her life.

When old Mrs. Storefield came in she put us through our facings pretty
brisk--where we'd been, what we'd done? What took us to Melbourne,--how
we liked it? What kind of people they were? and so on. We had to tell
her a good lot, part of it truth, of course, but pretty mixed. It made
rather a good yarn, and I could see Grace was listening with her heart
as well as her ears. Jim said generally we met some very nice people in
Melbourne named Jackson, and they were very kind to us.

'Were there any daughters in the family, Jim?' asked Grace.

'Oh! yes, three.'

'Were they good-looking?'

'No, rather homely, particularly the youngest.'

'What did they do?'

'Oh! their mother kept a boarding-house. We stayed there.'

I don't think I ever knew Jim do so much lying before; but after he'd
begun he had to stick to it. He told me afterwards he nearly broke down
about the three daughters; but was rather proud of making the youngest
the ugliest.

'I can see Gracey's as fond of you as ever she was, Dick,' says he;
'that's why she made me tell all those crammers. It's an awful pity we
can't all square it, and get spliced this Christmas. Aileen would take
George if she wasn't a fool, as most women are. I'd like to bring Jeanie
up here, and join George in the carrying business. It's going to be a
big thing, I can see. You might marry Gracey, and look after both places
while we were away.'

'And how about Kate?'

'The devil take her! and then he'd have a bargain. I wish you'd never
dropped across her, and that she wasn't Jeanie's sister,' blurts out
Jim. 'She'll bring bad luck among us before she's done, I feel, as sure
as we're standing here.'

'It's all a toss up--like our lives; married or lagged, bushwork or
roadwork (in irons), free or bond. We can't tell how it will be with us
this day year.'

'I've half a mind to shoot myself,' says Jim, 'and end it all. I would,
too, only for mother and Aileen. What's the use of life that isn't life,
but fear and misery, from one day's end to another, and we only just
grown up? It's d----d hard that a chap's brains don't grow along with
his legs and arms.'

We didn't ride home till quite the evening. Grace would have us stay
for tea; it was a pretty hot day, so there was no use riding in the sun.
George saddled his horse, and he and Grace rode part of the way h