ttle pile of pinafores and tuckers which required supervision,
Susan wept still more, and said it was well to be Nettie, who never
was overcome by her feelings. Thus the evening passed dully enough.
Just then, perhaps, Nettie was not a very conversable companion. Such
interviews as that of this day linger in the heads of the interlocutors,
and perhaps produce more notable effects afterwards than at the moment.
Nettie was not thinking about it. She was simply going over it again,
finding out the tones and meanings which, in the haste and excitement of
their occurrence, did not have their full force. The fulness of detail
that lingers about such pictures, which are not half apprehended till
they have been gone over again and again, is marvellous. The pinafores
went unconsciously through Nettie's fingers. She was scarcely aware of
Susan crying by the fire. Though it had been in some degree a final and
almost hopeless parting, there was comfort behind the cloud to Nettie as
well as to the doctor. She had forgotten all about the discussion with
which the evening began before Susan spoke again.

"Richard Chatham came home with the last mail," said Susan, making a
feeble effort to renew the fight. "He sent me a letter last week, you
know. I daresay he will come to see us. Richard Chatham from Melbourne,
Nettie. I daresay he will not stay out of the colony long."

Nettie, who was lost in her own thoughts, made no reply.

"I daresay," repeated Mrs Fred, "he will be going out again in a month
or two. I do not believe he could bear this dreadful English winter any
more than I could. I daresay he'd be glad to take care of us out--if you
should change your mind about going, Nettie."

Nettie gave her sister a glance of resolution and impatience--a
swift glance upward from her work, enough to show she marked and
understood--but still did not speak.

"Richard Chatham was always very good-natured: it would be such a good
thing for us to go in the same ship--if you should happen to change your
mind about going, Nettie," said Mrs Fred, rising to retire to her room.
"I am going to bed to try to get a little sleep. Such wretched nights as
I have would kill anybody. I should not wonder if Richard Chatham came
some of these days to see us. Poor fellow! he had always a great fancy
for _our_ family; and it would be _such_ a thing for us, Nettie, if you
should change your mind about going, to go in the same ship!"

With which Parthian shot