certain relief the coming break. "After all I dare say such a queer
faddy fellow IS out of his element here. He'll go down better over
there," was John's mental verdict. Mahony's, a characteristic: "Thank
God, I shall not have to put up much longer with his confounded
self-importance, or suffer under his matrimonial muddles!"

When at a question from Mary John began animatedly to discuss the
tuition of the younger children, Mahony seized the chance to slip away.
He would not be missed. He never was--here or anywhere.

On the verandah a dark form stirred and made a hasty movement. It was
the boy Johnny--now grown tall as Mahony himself--and, to judge from
the smell, what he tried to smuggle into his pocket was a briar.

"Oh well, yes, I'm smoking," he said sullenly, after a feeble attempt
at evasion. "Go in and blab on me, if you feel you must, Uncle Richard."

"Nonsense. But telling fibs about a thing does no good."

"Oh yes, it does; it saves a hiding," retorted the boy. And added with
a youthful vehemence: "I'm hanged if I let the governor take a stick to
me nowadays! I'm turned sixteen; and if he dares to touch me--"

"Come, come. You know, you've been something of a disappointment to
your father, Johnny--that's the root of the trouble."

"Glad if I have! He hates me anyway. He never cared for my mother's
children," answered Johnny with a quaint dignity. "I think he couldn't
have cared for her either."

"There you're wrong. He was devoted to her. Her death nearly broke his
heart.--She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, my
boy."

"Was she?" said Johnny civilly, but with meagre interest. This long
dead mother had bequeathed him not even a memory of herself--was as
unreal to him as a dream at second hand. From the chilly contemplation
of her he turned back impatiently to his own affairs, which were
burning, insistent. And scenting a vague sympathy in this stranger
uncle who, like himself, had drifted out from the intimacy of the
candle-lit room, he made a clean breast of his troubles.

"I can't stand the life here, Uncle Richard, and I'm not going to--not
if father cuts me off with a shilling! I mean to see the world. THIS
isn't the world--this dead-and-alive old country! ... though it's got
to seem like it to the governor, he's been here so long. And HE cleared
out from his before he was even as old as I am. Of course there isn't
another blessed old Australia for me to decamp to; he might b