shoulder, they began to fly smoothly and rapidly down the other side.

Mahony bent forward in his seat. "There goes the last of old
Warrenheip. Thank the Lord, I shall never set eyes on it again. Upon my
word, I believe I came to think that hill the most tiresome feature of
the place. Whatever street one turned into, up it bobbed at the foot.
Like a peep-show ... or a bad dream ... or a prison wall."

In Melbourne they were the guests of John--Mahony had reluctantly
resigned himself to being beholden to Mary's relatives and Mary's
friends to the end of the chapter. At best, living in other people's
houses was for him more of a punishment than a pleasure; but for sheer
discomfort this stay capped the climax. Under Zara's incompetent rule
John's home had degenerated into a lawless and slovenly abode: the
meals were unpalatable, the servants pert and lazy, while the children
ran wild--you could hardly hear yourself speak for the racket. Whenever
possible, Mahony fled the house. He lunched in town, looked up his
handful of acquaintances, bought necessaries--and unnecessaries--for
the voyage. He also hired a boat and had himself rowed out to the ship,
where he clambered on board amid the mess of scouring and painting, and
made himself known to the chief mate. Or he sat on the pier and gazed
at the vessel lying straining at her anchor, while quick rain-squalls
swept up and blotted out the Bay.

Of Mary he caught but passing glimpses; her family seemed determined to
make unblushing use of her as long as she was within reach. A couple of
days prior to their arrival, John and Zara had quarrelled violently;
and for the dozenth time Zara had packed her trunks and departed for
one of those miraculous situations, the doors of which always stood
open to her.

John was for Mary going after her and forcing her to admit the error of
her ways. Mary held it wiser to let well alone.

"DO be guided by me this time, John," she urged, when she had heard her
brother out: "You and Zara will never hit it off, however often you
try."

But the belief was ingrained in John that the most suitable head for
his establishment was one of his own blood. He answered indignantly.
"And why not pray, may I ask? Who IS to hit it off, as you put it, if
not two of a family?"

"Oh, John... "--Mary felt quite apologetic for her brother. "Clever as
Zara is, she's not at all fitted for a post of this kind. She's no hand
with the servants, and children don't