that good old man."

She spoke of an incident that had occurred when she was sixteen.
Wallington, a wealthy Brisbane solicitor, had gone to England on a
six months' visit When he returned, he found that his wife and only
daughter, a girl of five and twenty, had fallen under the influence of a
Father Corregio, and had entered the Roman Catholic Church, and his long
and happy married life was at an end. A week later he shot himself in
his garden.

"I am afraid that poor Aulain will cut up pretty roughly over this,
Kate," said her father presently.

"I can't help it, father. And I think, after all, I had better write to
him to-morrow. I really do not want him to come to the Gully."

And she did write, and Aulain's face was not pleasant to see as he read
her letter.

"By ______! if it is the parson fellow, I'll shoot him like a rat," he
said, and then he cursed the fever that kept him away from Kate.

He went over to the _Clarion_ office and saw Lacey, who was quick
to perceive that something had occurred to upset the dark-faced
sub-Inspector.

"How are you, Aulain? Any 'shakes' to-day?" he asked, referring to the
recurring attacks of ague from which Aulain suffered.

"Oh! just the usual thing," replied his visitor irritably, as he sat
down on a cane lounge, and viciously tugged at his moustache. "I thought
I would come over and worry you with my company for a while, and get you
to come across to the Queen's and share a bottle of fizz with me. They
have some ice there I hear--came up by the Sydney steamer last night."

Lacey's eyes twinkled, "I'm with you, my boy. I've just finished writing
a particularly venomous leader upon mine adversary the _Planters'
Friend_, and a nice cool drink, such as you suggest, on a roasting day
like this, will tend to assuage the journalistic rage against my vile
and hated contemporary."

Arriving at the Queen's Hotel the two men went upstairs and sat down
on comfortable cane lounges on the verandah, and in a few minutes the
smiling Milly appeared with a large bottle of champagne, and a big lump
of the treasured ice, carefully wrapped up in a piece of blanketing. As
Lacey attended to the ice, Aulain began to cut the cork string.

"Oh! by the way, Lacey," he said carelessly, "I saw in the _Clarion_
yesterday that Forde, the sky pilot, is leaving the Church. Are you
ready with the glasses."

"I am. Faith, doesn't it look lovely. Steady, me boy, these long sleever
glasses hold a p