ardless of the
fact that we were already as full as we could possibly be, and that long
before mid-day my mother and I were weary washing and rewashing our very
limited stock of glasses, for the visitors who came, if they did nothing
else, partook very freely of our brandy. That is the way with many
good-natured people, I think; my father was voted a jolly good fellow
by his guests, and I don't suppose anybody ever thought that the hardest
part of the work fell on us two women. I ought not to complain now, it
is all over so long ago, but I have always felt it a terribly hard thing
that the last happy day I had should have been so utterly spoilt. Paul
and I had arranged to spend it together down in the gully where we first
made each others acquaintance; he had come to the house for me; he had
grown bolder now that he was to ride my father's horse, and there he
sat on the verandah, waiting more than half the day, while I washed and
wiped that seemingly endless array of glasses.

Do you wonder that I complain, Hope?

Even now, if I shut my eyes, I seem to see the glorious November
sunshine beckoning me out, to hear the impatient shuffle of my lover's
feet as he sat and waited, and yet there seemed no prospect of release
for me. At last, I suppose my mother guessed something of my feelings,
for when the kitchen clock was on the stroke of four she said--

"You can go now, Hope. If they want any more they 'll just have to drink
it out of dirty glasses," and I went gladly, and selfishly too, for I
knew whatever she might say, I had left her to bear the burden and heat
of the day alone. Still I am glad--even now I am deeply thankful to
my mother--for those hours of happiness she gave me, almost, I think,
unconsciously.

Down in the gully Paul and I watched the shadows grow longer as the day
crept on towards evening, and I tried once more to dissuade him from
riding Boatman. I might just as well have spoken to the winds.

"My dear child," he said a little severely, "you must know you are
asking an impossibility. All the district round has put its money on
the horse because I 'm riding, and they say I 'm the only man in the
district that can ride him. I never could play it so low down on your
father as to desert him at the last moment. Don't you see, my darling?"

I didn't see. But what was I to do? I saw he was still a little weak
from the effects of an attack of fever and ague he had had some time
before, but when I urged