may be a bit out of sorts. But I fear the evil's
deeper-seated. It's my opinion the boy is tiring of regular work. Now
that he hasn't even the excitement of the gold-escort to look forward
to.... And he's been a rolling stone from the beginning, you know."

"If only he would marry and settle down! I do wish I could find a wife
for him. The right woman could make anything of Purdy"; and yet once
more Mary fruitlessly scanned, in thought, the lists of her
acquaintance.

"What if it's a case of sour grapes, love? Since the prettiest woman on
Ballarat is no longer free...."

"Oh, Richard, hush! Such foolish talk!"

"But is it? ... let me look at her. Well, if not the prettiest, at
least a very pretty person indeed. It certainly becomes you to be
stouter, wife."

But Mary had not an atom of vanity in her. "Speaking of prettiness
reminds me of something that happened at the Races last week--I forgot
to tell you, at the time. There were two gentlemen there from
Melbourne; and as Agnes Ocock went past, one of them said out loud:
'Gad! That's a lovely woman.' Agnes heard it herself, and was most
distressed. And the whole day, wherever she went, they kept their
field-glasses on her. Mr. Henry was furious."

"If you'll allow me to say so, my dear, Mrs. Henry cannot hold a candle
to some one I know--to my mind, at least."

"If I suit you, Richard, that's all I care about."

"Well, to come back to what we were saying. My advice is, give Master
Purdy a taste of the cold shoulder the next time he comes hanging about
the house. Let him see his ill-temper didn't pass unnoticed. There's no
excuse for it. God bless me! doesn't he sleep the whole night through
in his bed?"--and Mahony's tone took on an edge. The broken nights that
were nowadays the rule with himself were the main drawbacks to his
prosperity. He had never been a really good sleeper; and, in
consequence, was one of those people who feel an intense need for
sleep, and suffer under its curtailment. As things stood at present his
rest was wholly at the mercy of the night-bell--a remorseless
instrument, given chiefly to pealing just as he had managed to drop
off. Its gentlest tinkle was enough to rouse him--long before it had
succeeded in penetrating the ears of the groom, who was supposed to
open. And when it remained silent for a night, some trifling noise in
the road would simulate its jangle in his dreams. "It's a wonder I have
any nerves left," he grumbled, as th