ment and frighten me by showing me his power,
as part punishment for my behaviour of the morning. But I didn't think
so at the time. For the moment astonishment took my breath away, and
then, when I found my voice, I vehemently protested.

"No! no!" I cried, "I will never marry you! Never! never! I hate you! If
you only knew how I Hate you!"

And the two men only laughed at me. My father was more than half through
his bottle, or he would never have shamed me so, but the other man was
sober enough, he knew what he was doing, and I think was pleased to move
me, for usually I would not look at him. I think sometimes now it was
the sight of my helpless anger made him carry the joke so far.

"Well, well, you shall have her if you're first past the post," said
my father, leaning back in his chair, and laughing heartily, "but I 'm
thinking there 'll be two Vixens over at Telowie then, and I know which
I 'd rather have the riding of."

"Oh! trust me. Gently does it. Ride her with the snaffle, with just a
touch of the spur now and then, just to show her you mean business,"
and he looked me full in the face and laughed, as if he were taunting me
with my helplessness.

If I shut my eyes I can see them now, for all it is so long ago. The
long, low, poorly-furnished room, badly lighted by one colza oil lamp,
the head of a dingo and two brushes crossed, over the mantelpiece,
the only attempt at ornament, and the two men seated at the table, the
decanter between them, gambling away my life and happiness. Maybe it was
only in jest; I try to think so now, but the consequences were so fatal,
there must have been just a spice of earnest in it even then, at least
on Dick Stanton's part. But not on my father's. Even now I pray that my
father was not in earnest.

The more I protested, the more determined they grew, till at last my
mother came in to see what all the laughter was about, and promptly sent
me to bed, and the last thing I heard as I made my escape through the
door was Dick Stanton's mocking voice calling, "Well, we needn't fear
but there'll be plenty of entries for the Yanyilla Steeplechase, once
the boys get to hear that Miss Hope Forde is to be the prize."

My mother followed me to my room. I think she, too, was a little angry,
but she wouldn't allow it to me, she only scolded me for stopping in the
parlour so long.

"You ought to know better at your age," she said. "It was wrong and
foolish of you to stop when you saw