stand his ideas, and in whom he could confide. Then his
thoughts turned to Peggy--Peggy, square-built, determined, masterful,
capable; just the very person to grapple with difficulties; a woman
whose nerve a regiment of duchesses would fail to shake. He thought of
her many abilities, and admitted to himself that after all was said and
done, if he had only been able to gratify her wishes (and they did not
seem so extravagant now) she would have been a perfect helpmate for him.
His mind went back to the weird honeymoon at Pike's pub., to the little
earthen-floored dining-room, with walls of sacking and a slab table,
over which Peggy presided with such force of character. He thought
of the two bushmen whom Peggy had nursed through the fever with rough
tenderness; and then, turning suddenly, he found Peggy standing at his
elbow.

For a second neither spoke. Then Considine said, with an air of forced
jauntiness, "Well, Peggy, you won't be comin' to England with me, then?"

"Haven't been asked," said Peggy.

"I heard you was goin' to settle at Kiley's Crossin', lending money to
the cockatoos."

Peggy looked at him with a meaning glance.

"Ye should know me better nor that, Paddy," she said.

This cleared the way tremendously. The gaunt bushman hitched himself
a little nearer, and spoke in an insinuating way. "I'm pretty tired of
this case meself, I dunno how you feel about it."

"Tired!" said Peggy. "I'm wore out. Fair wore out," and she heaved a
sigh like an elephant.

That sigh did for old Considine. Hurriedly he unburdened his mind.

"Well, look'ee here, Peggy--I've got whips of stuff now, and I've got
to go to England for it. You come along o' me again, and we'll knock all
this business on the head. Let the Gordons alone--they're decent young
fellows, the both of 'em--and come along o' me to England. That young
English feller reckons we'd be as good as the Prince of Wales, very
near. Will you come, Peggy?"

It is the characteristic of great minds to think quickly, and act
promptly. Peggy did both.

"Mick!" she said, calling to her brother in a sharp, authoritative
voice: "Mick! I've been talking to Paddy here, and we've reckoned we've
had enough of this fooling, and we're off to England. You go in and tell
old Fuzzy-Head" (she meant the Judge) "that I'm tired of this case, and
I ain't goin' on wid it. Come on, Paddy, will we go and get some tea?"

"Yes, and there's some tremenjus fine opals in a shop down th