d have shown it to Mr.
Rawlence, the position would have been quite different! I suppose I
must have been a rather fatuous youth. Also, I was obsessed to the
point of mania by the determination not to become a veritable 'inmate'
of St. Peter's, like my fellows there, however long I might be
condemned to live in the place.

During the next three days I was greatly depressed by the fact that I
never caught a glimpse of the artist anywhere. In fact, it was said
that he had gone away from Myall Creek altogether. And then, greatly
to my secret joy, the Sister-in-charge sent for me one morning and
said:

'There is an artist gentleman coming here, Mr. Rawlence. You are to do
whatever he tells you, and carry his things for him while he is here.
Be careful now. I have word from Father O'Malley about this. Be sure
you don't neglect your milking. You can tell the gentleman when you
have to go to that. You can do some wood-chopping after tea, if he
should want you in your chopping time. Run along now, and go over in
the punt with Tim when he goes to meet the gentleman.'

It would seem the good-will of the Great Powers had once more been
invoked in connection with me; and I learned afterwards that Mr.
Rawlence had not left the district, but had been staying in Werrina
for a few days. While there, no doubt, he had met Father O'Malley, and
very casually, I dare say, had mentioned his fancy for sketching me.
At the time these trivial events stirred me deeply. That Father
O'Malley should have been approached seemed to me a fact of high
portent. If only I had had a portrait of my father!

As Destiny ruled it, Mr. Rawlence spent but the one day at St.
Peter's, in place of the enthralling vista of days, each of more
romantic interest than its predecessor, of which I had dreamed. He had
news demanding his return to Sydney; and, as he said, he ought not to
have come out to St. Peter's even for this one day. But he wanted to
complete his sketch. So that, in a sense, he really came to see me
again. This radiant being's swift and important movements in the great
world outside the Orphanage were directly influenced by me. It was a
stirring thought, and went some way toward compensating me for the
shattered vista of many days spent in leisurely attendance upon the
man belonging to my father's order. It was thus I thought of him.

I cannot of course recall every word spoken and every little event of
that momentous day, and it would serve no