able. She would never worry him
with silly ideas. She would never act with impropriety. She would never
become a companion to her husband. Bah, a man does not want his wife to
be a companion! There were myths and fables in the old day; so there are
now. The story that men like a companion as well as a wife is an
up-to-date one.

This train of thought was interrupted by our host, who appeared in the
doorway, clad from sole to neck in white. We steered for the
dining-room--twenty-two all told--thirteen men and nine representatives of
the other sex.

Aunt Helen got one scat of honour near the head of the table and Miss
Derrick another. I drifted to the foot among the unimportant younger fry,
where we had no end of fun and idle chatter. We had to wait on ourselves,
and as all formality was dispensed with, it was something like a picnic.

The heat was excessive. Every window and door were open, and the balmy,
almost imperceptible, zephyrs which faintly rustled the curtains and
kissed our perspiration-beaded brows were rich with many scents from the
wide old flower-garden, which, despite the drought, brought forth a
wealth of blossom.

When done eating we had to wash the dishes. Such a scamper ensued back
and forwards to the kitchen, which rang with noise, and merriment.
Everyone was helping, hindering, laughing, joking, teasing, and brimming
over with fun and enjoyment. When we had completed this task, dancing was
proposed. Some of the elderly and more sensible people said it was too
hot, but all the young folks did not care a rap for the temperature.
Harold had no objections, Miss Derrick was agreeable, Miss Benson
announced herself ready and willing, and Joe Archer said he was "leppin'"
to begin, so we adjourned to the dancing-room and commenced operations.

I played the piano for the first quadrille, and aunt Helen for the second
dance. It was most enjoyable. There was a table at one end of the room on
which was any amount of cherries, lollies, cake, dainties, beers, syrups,
and glasses, where all could regale themselves without ceremony or bother
every time the inclination seized them. Several doors and windows of the
long room opened into the garden, and, provided one had no fear of
snakes, it was delightful to walk amid the flowers and cool oneself
between dances.

A little exertion on such a night made us very hot. After the third dance
the two old squatters, the horse-buyer, the clergyman, and Mr Benson
disapp