ly to drop me a
line to let me know when your plans are formed; and it will go hard
with me, but I'll make mine suit them one way or another. All that I can
do for you in the way of outfit or securing your passages--or even, if
you would allow me----"

Here the good fellow paused, afraid to venture any further. Nettie looked
up in a sudden blaze, and transfixed him with her eye.

"We have enough for everything we want, thank you," said Nettie, looking
through and through his guilty benevolent intentions, and bringing a
flush of confusion to his honest cheeks. "When I say I cannot afford
anything, I don't mean to ask anybody's assistance, Mr Chatham. We can
do very well by ourselves. If it came to be best for the children--or if
Susan keeps on wishing it, and gets her own way, as she generally does,"
said Nettie, with heightened colour, dropping her eyes, and going on at
double speed with her work, "I daresay we shall manage it as we did
before. But that is my concern. Nobody in the world has anything to do
with it but me."

"Oh, Nettie, dear, you're giving in at last!--do say you'll go! and
Mr Chatham promises he'll take care of us on the way," cried Mrs
Fred, clasping her hands. They were thin hands, and looked delicate in
contrast with her black dress. She was very interesting, pathetic, and
tender to the rough eyes of the Bushranger. He thought that imperative
little creature opposite, with her brilliant glances, her small head
drooping under those heavy braids of hair, her tiny figure and rapid
fingers, looked like a little cruel sprite oppressing the melancholy
soul. When Nettie rose from the table, goaded into sudden intolerance by
that appeal, the climax of the "continual dropping," and threw her work
indignantly on the table, and called Freddy to come directly, and get
dressed for his walk, the impression made by her supposed arbitrary and
imperious behaviour was not diminished. She went out disdainful, making
no reply, and left those two to a private conference. Then Mrs Fred
unbosomed her bereaved heart to that sympathetic stranger. She told him
how different everything was now--how hard it was to be dependent even
on one's sister--how far otherwise things might have been, if poor dear
Fred had been more prudent: one way or other, all her life through,
Susan had been an injured woman. All her desire was to take the children
back to the colony before she died. "If Nettie would but yield!" sighed
Mrs Fred, cl