exclaiming in delight at the
bustle and novelty all around them.

"Now mind, Cornelia, if when you land at Sydney you find that you have
not sufficient money, you must not hesitate to cable to me, and I shall
be most willing to cable you back what you may require," said Mr.
Runciman impressively, and because of the kindness in his tone Nealie
forgave him calling her Cornelia.

"Thank you very much, but I am sure that we ought not to need any more,
and I will be very, very careful not to waste our funds," she said,
smiling up at him, but her lips quivered a little in spite of her
determination to maintain a Spartan-like control of her emotions.

"Money melts when you are travelling, and you are all such babies in the
matter of finance. Let me see what I have in my pocket," he said,
thrusting his hand in and tugging out a bulky purse from some mysterious
inner depths. "Three, five, seven, ten. Yes, I can let you have ten
pounds. Put it in your pocket and say nothing about it. If you do not
need it for your journey you can keep it as a little gift from me and
spend it for your own pleasure."

"You are so very kind, I cannot think what we should have done without
you in getting away; you seem to have forgotten nothing, and I am sure
that Father will be most grateful to you," she said, looking at him with
so much trust and affection in her eyes that his conscience pricked him
dreadfully for what he knew to be his selfish eagerness to shift a heavy
burden on to the shoulders of someone else.

[Illustration: SAYING GOODBYE TO MR. RUNCIMAN]

"It is no great virtue to be kind to you, child; indeed it would be a
hard heart that would be anything else," he said in a deeply moved tone;
and because the bell began to ring then, in warning to people to leave
the ship, he took both her hands in his, and, leaning down, kissed her
on the forehead; then with a nod in the direction of the others, who at
the sound of the bell had gathered round to bid him a civil goodbye, he
disappeared down the gangway and was lost to view in the crowd.

"The old chappy cut up quite decent at the last. I expect it was that
little poem of mine which fetched him," said Rumple, who was strutting
round like a peacock in a new suit of clothes and feeling himself
someone of importance.

"Hush, dear, don't call him names, I do not like it," said Nealie with
gentle dignity, while she struggled with her tears.

"Are you crying over saying goodbye to Mr.