u could be brave enough?" he wound up, rather unsurely. "It
wouldn't be for long, love, I'm certain of that. Just let me set foot
in England once more!"

"Why ... why, yes, dear Richard, I ... I think I could, if you really
wished it," said Polly in a small voice. She tried to seem reasonable;
though black night descended on her at the thought of parting, and
though her woman's eyes saw a hundred objections to the plan, which his
had overlooked. (For one thing, John had just installed Sara as
housekeeper, and Sara would take it very unkindly to be shown the
door.) "I THINK I could," she repeated. "But before you go on, dear, I
should like to ask YOU something."

She laid down her needlework; her heart was going pit-a-pat. "Richard,
did you ever... I mean have you never thought of ... of taking up your
profession again--I mean here--starting practice here?--No, wait a
minute! Let me finish. I ... I ... oh, Richard!" Unable to find words,
Polly locked her fingers under the tablecloth and hoped she was not
going to be so silly as to cry. Getting up, she knelt down before her
husband, laying her hands on his knees. "Oh, Richard, I wish you
would--HOW I wish you would!"

"Why, Polly!" said Mahony, surprised at her agitation. "Why, my dear,
what's all this?--You want to know if I never thought of setting up in
practice out here? Of course I did ... in the beginning. You don't
think I'd have chosen to keep a store, if there'd been any other
opening for me? But there wasn't, child. The place was overrun. Never a
medico came out and found digging too much for him, but he fell back in
despair on his profession. I didn't see my way to join their starvation
band."

"Yes, THEN, Richard!--but now?" broke in Polly. "Now, it's quite, quite
different. Look at the size Ballarat has grown--there are more than
forty thousand people settled on it; Mr. Ocock told me so. And you
know, dear, doctors have cleared out lately, not come fresh. There was
that one, I forget his name, who drank himself to death; and the two,
you remember, who were sold up just before Christmas." But this was an
unfortunate line of argument to have hit on, and Polly blushed and
stumbled.

Mahony laughed at her slip, and smoothed her hair. "Typical fates,
love! They mustn't be mine. Besides, Polly, you're forgetting the main
thing--how I hate the place, and how I've always longed to get away."

"No, I'm not. But please let me go on.--You know, Richard, every one