remain to midday dinner, and the old lady being sufficiently human to
denounce a swell far more fiercely behind his back than to his face,
in consideration of this one's presence, once more entrusted us to
sugar our own puddings, regardless of consequences.

After luncheon she interviewed him about his niece's health. Mr
Pornsch seemed really concerned, and said perhaps she needed to be
diverted, and that he would see about a further change, which might
prove beneficial. He then put up his eyeglass to inspect Dawn's
beauty, and ogling her, attempted to engage her in conversation; but
the girl didn't seem at all attracted by him or thankful for the
favours he brought her in the form of an exquisite box of bonbons and
the latest song.

"I don't accept presents, thank you," she said uncompromisingly.

"Do you never make exceptions?"

"Only from people I like _very_ much."

"Well, I trust I may some day be among the exceptions," he said, in a
gruesome attempt to be ingratiating; but the girl replied--

"Then you hope for impossibilities."

Somewhat disconcerted though not the least abashed, Mr Pornsch
persevered by asking if she ever went to Sydney, and stated the
pleasure it would be to him to provide her with tickets for any of the
plays; but even this could not overcome her unconquerable horror of
the various intemperances suggested by his person, so he had to
retreat.

Dawn's grandmother remonstrated with her afterwards.

"You ought to be a little more genteeler, Dawn, and you could refuse
presents just as well. Even if he isn't the takin'est old chap, that
is not any reason for you to be ungenteel."

"Well, I don't care," replied Dawn, whose exquisitely moulded chin,
despite an irresistible dimple, was expressive of determination. "If I
was a great old podge and had a blue nose from swilling and gorging,
and was fifty if I was a day, and then went goggling after a young
fellow of eighteen, he wouldn't be very civil to me, or be lectured if
he spoke to me the way I deserved, and I think these old creatures of
men ought to be discouraged by all the girls. What's sauce for the
goose is the same for the gander."

Mr Pornsch had not long departed when Mrs Bray favoured us with a
call, so grandma was spared a pilgrimage to her house. She and Carry
exchanged a stiffly formal greeting, but the visitor beamed upon the
remainder of us and seated herself in our midst.

"Oh, I say, ain't it a blessed nark to the men