" she said, sadly.
"You recollect it was born when you were here before, the day we went to
the Strattons."

"I don't wonder," he answered, looking round at the closed-in street,
with its dull, hopeless, dreary rows of narrow houses and hard roadway
between. "But I suppose you're tired, Nellie. Let's go and get some
oysters!"

"I don't care to, thanks. I feel like a good long walk," she went on,
taking his arm and turning him round to walk on with her. "I'm thirsting
for a breath of fresh air and to stretch myself. I'm a terrible one for
walks, you know."

"Not much riding here, Nellie;" walking on.

"That's why I walk so. I can go from here right down to Lady Macquarie's
Chair in under half-an-hour. Over two miles! Not bad, eh, Ned?"

"That's a good enough record. Suppose we go down there now, Nellie, only
none of your racing time for me. It's not too late for you?"

"Too late for me! My word! I'm still at the Phillipses and they don't
bother. I wouldn't stay anywhere where I couldn't come and go as I liked.
I'd like to go it you're not too tired."

"It'll do me good," said Ned, gleefully. So they set off, arm in arm.
After they had walked a dozen yards he stopped suddenly.

"I've brought you a rose, Nellie," he exclaimed, handing it to her. "I'm
so pleased to see you I forgot it."

"I knew it was for me," she said, fondly, pinning it at her throat. "How
ever did you recollect my colour?"

"Do you think I forget anything about you, Nellie?" he asked. She did not
answer and they walked on silently.

"Where is Geisner?" he enquired, after a pause. "I don't know. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Only he'd advise us a little."

After a pause: "What do you think of things, Ned?"

"What do I think? We couldn't get any wires through that explained
anything. There was nothing on but the ordinary strike business when I
came down. I suppose some of the chaps have been talking wild and the
Government has snapped at the chance to down the union. You know what our
fellows are."

"Yes. But I don't quite see what the Government's got to gain.
Proclamations and military only make men worse, I think."

"Sometimes they do and sometimes they don't," answered Ned. "A crowd
that's doing no harm, only kicking up a bit of a row, will scatter like
lambs sometimes if a single policeman collars one of them. Another time
the same crowd will jump on a dozen policemen. The Government thinks the
crowd'll scatter and I'm afraid the crowd'll