eatly, and the two children
by the second marriage, Tom and Mary, gave him their affection the first
time they saw him.

The boy Tom grew up like most Australian-born boys of his class of life
and surroundings, and before he was twenty years of age, was
managing one of his father's stations in Queensland, and managing it
prosperously. Soon after he had taken charge, he heard from his father
that his twin sister Mary was to be married to a local medical man--a
Doctor Rayner, who had been her steady admirer since she was a girl of
fifteen.

"It will be a very happy union," wrote Captain Gerrard to his son, "of
that I am certain, and although he's too young a man to have much of a
practice for some time, he'll get along all right. And even if things
do go against him, it won't matter to him and Mary--I'll stand to
them. Mary is writing to you by this mail." Then after alluding to some
business matters in connection with his various stations he went on to
say. "Westonley comes over to see us now and then--Lizzie never. Poor
Westonley! Lizzie has crumpled him up altogether, although when he comes
to see us he is the same cheery Ted of yore, and he, Rayner, and I had
some grand kangarooing together when he was here last. Lizzie, during
the past five years has become more and more crotchety, and has given
herself up to 'religious thought _and_ work,' as she calls it, from
which I surmise that her's is a reign of terror at Marumbah Downs. She
has built a little tin-pot chapel in which there is not enough room
to swing a cat by the tail, and had it opened a few months ago by some
swagger curate from Melbourne--poor old Preston, the Scotch parson at
Marumbah township not being considered good enough, and having incurred
her wrath by openly stating that when he had a cold he took whisky toddy
at bedtime! then the silly woman--who rules poor Westonley with a rod of
iron--had a notice put up in the men's quarters that all hands, from
the head stockman down to the black boys, were to attend service every
future Sunday morning and evening, Westonley--whom she wanted to conduct
the service--bucked, and said he could not make an ass of himself before
his employes, and the next day the entire crowd--stockmen, fencers,
sawyers, etc.--rolled up to the station and gave Westonley a week's
notice, and the poor fellow had to effect a compromise, they agreeing to
come into the 'Chapel' and let Lizzie read them a chapter 'of suthin'
outer the