he morning; and in the dark allowed herself a
tender, tickled little smile at his expense.

"What a man he is for loading himself up with the wrong sort of
people!" she reflected. "And then afterwards, he gets tired of them,
and impatient with them--as is only natural."

At breakfast she came back on the subject herself. In her opinion, he
ought to think the matter over very carefully. Not another doctor on
Ballarat had an assistant; and his patients would be sure to resent the
novelty. Those who sent for Dr. Mahony would not thank you to be handed
over to "goodness knows who."

"Besides, Richard, as things are now, the money wouldn't really be
enough, would it? And just as we have begun to be a little easy
ourselves--I'm afraid you'd miss many comforts you have got used to
again, dear," she wound up, with a mental glance at the fine linen and
smooth service Richard loved.

Yes, that was true, admitted Mahony with a sigh; and being this morning
in a stale mood, he forthwith knocked flat the card-house it had amused
him to build. Himself he had only half believed in it; or believed so
long as he refrained from going into prosaic details. There was work
for two and money for one--that was the crux of the matter. Successful
as the practice was, it still did not throw off a thousand a year. Bad
debts ran to a couple of hundred annually; and their improved style of
living--the expenses of house and garden, of horses and vehicles, the
men-servants, the open house they had to keep--swallowed every penny of
the rest. Saving was actually harder than when his income had been but
a third of what it was at present. New obligations beset him. For one
thing, he had to keep pace with his colleagues; make a show of being
just as well-to-do as they. Retrenching was out of the question. His
patients would at once imagine that something was wrong--the practice
on the downgrade, his skill deserting him--and take their ailments and
their fees elsewhere. No, the more one had, the more one was forced to
spend; and the few odd hundreds for which Henry Ocock could yearly be
counted on came in very handy. As a rule he laid these by for Mary's
benefit; for her visits to Melbourne, her bonnets and gowns. It also
let her satisfy the needs of her generous little heart in matters of
hospitality--well, it was perhaps not fair to lay the whole blame of
their incessant and lavish entertaining at her door. He himself knew
that it would not do for the