l get you put at the far end
of the table under my wing. Men don't notice dress. If you weren't so big
uncle or Frank Hawden could oblige you."

"Do you think I could pass muster?"

"Yes; after I brush you down you'll look as spruce as a brass penny.

"I did brush myself," he answered.

"You brush yourself!" I retorted. "There's a big splash of mud on your
shoulder. You couldn't expect to do anything decently, for you're only a
man, and men are the uselessest, good-for-nothingest, clumsiest animals in
the world. All they're good for is to smoke and swear."

I fetched a clothes brush.

"You'll have to stand on the table to reach me," he said, looking down
with amused indulgence.

"As you are so impertinent you can go dusty," and I tossed the brush
away.

The evening was balmy, so I invited him into the garden. He threw his
handkerchief over my chest, saying I might catch cold, but I scouted the
idea.

We wandered into an arbour covered with wistaria, banksia, and Marechal
Niel roses, and I made him a buttonhole.

A traveller pulled rein in the roadway, and, dismounting, threw his
bridle over a paling of the garden fence while he went inside to try and
buy a loaf of bread.

I jumped up, frightening the horse so that it broke away, pulling off the
paling in the bridle-rein. I ran to bring a hammer to repair the damage.
Mr Beecham caught the horse while I attempted to drive the nail into--the
fence. It was a futile attempt. I bruised my fingers. He took the hammer
from me, and fixing the paling in its place with a couple of well-aimed
blows, said laughingly:

"You drive a nail! You couldn't expect to do anything. You're only a
girl. Girls are the helplessest, uselessest, troublesomest little
creatures in the world. All they're good for is to torment and pester a
fellow."

I had to laugh.

At this juncture we heard uncle Jay-Jay's voice, so Mr Beecham went
towards the back, whence it proceeded, after he left me at the front
door.

"Oh, auntie, we got on splendidly! He's not a bit of trouble. We're as
chummy as though we had been reared together," I exclaimed.

"Did you get him to talk?"

"Oh yes."

"Did you really?" in surprise.

When I came to review the matter I was forced to confess that I had done
all the talking, and young Beecham the listening; moreover I described
him as the quietest man I had ever seen or heard of.

The judge did not come home with uncle Jay-Jay as expected so it was not