that their clock is twenty minutes fast, and that you have got plenty of
time, and so you have to give in. But you are mightily encouraged by
a winksome expression which you see, or fancy you see, on your side of
Tom's face; also by the fact of his having accidentally knocked his foot
against your shins. So you stay.

One of the females tells you to "Sit there, Mr. Brown," and you take
your place at the table, and the polite business goes on. You've got to
hold your knife and fork properly, and mind your p's and q's, and when
she says, "Do you take milk and sugar, Mr. Brown?" you've got to say,
"Yes, please, Miss Smith--thanks--that's plenty." And when they press
you, as they will, to have more, you've got to keep on saying, "No,
thanks, Mrs. Smith; no, thanks, Miss Smith; I really couldn't; I've done
very well, thank you; I had a very late dinner, and so on"--bother such
tommy-rot. And you don't seem to have any appetite, anyway. And you
think of the days out on the track when you and Tom sat on your
swags under a mulga at mid-day, and ate mutton and johnny-cake with
clasp-knives, and drank by turns out of the old, battered, leaky billy.

And after tea you have to sit still while the precious minutes are
wasted, and listen and sympathize, while all the time you are on the
fidget to get out with Tom, and go down to a private bar where you know
some girls.

And perhaps by-and-bye the old lady gets confidential, and seizes an
opportunity to tell you what a good steady young fellow Tom is now that
he never touches drink, and belongs to a temperance society (or the
Y.M.C.A.), and never stays out of nights.

Consequently you feel worse than ever, and lonelier, and sorrier that
you wasted your time coming. You are encouraged again by a glimpse of
Tom putting on a clean collar and fixing himself up a bit; but when you
are ready to go, and ask him if he's coming a bit down the street
with you, he says he thinks he will in such a disinterested,
don't-mind-if-I-do sort of tone, that he makes you mad.

At last, after promising to "drop in again, Mr. Brown, whenever you're
passing," and to "don't forget to call," and thanking them for their
assurance that they'll "be always glad to see you," and telling them
that you've spent a very pleasant evening and enjoyed yourself, and are
awfully sorry you couldn't stay--you get away with Tom.

You don't say much to each other till you get round the corner and
down the street a bit,