made
Mahony very hot and curt. Having himself stowed the things inside the
bar and borrowed a lantern, he drew his wife's arm through his, and
hurried her away.

It was pitch-dark, and the ground was wet and squelchy. Their feet sank
in the mud. Polly clung to Richard's arm, trembling at the rude voices,
the laughter, the brawling, that issued from the grog-shops; at the
continual apparition of rough, bearded men. One of these, who held a
candle stuck in a bottle, was accosted by Richard and soundly rated.
When they turned out of the street with its few dismal oil-lamps, their
way led them among dirty tents and black pits, and they had to depend
for light on the lantern they carried. They crossed a rickety little
bridge over a flooded river; then climbed a slope, on which in her
bunchy silk skirts Polly slipped and floundered, to stop before
something that was half a tent and half a log-hut.--What! this the end
of the long, long journey! This the house she had to live in?

Yes, Richard was speaking. "Welcome home, little wife! Not much of a
place, you see, but the best I can give you."

"It's ... it's very nice, Richard," said Polly staunchly; but her lips
trembled.

Warding off the attack of a big, fierce, dirty dog, which sprang at
her, dragging its paws down her dress, Polly waited while her husband
undid the door, then followed him through a chaos, which smelt as she
had never believed any roofed-in place could smell, to a little room at
the back.

Mahony lighted the lamp that stood ready on the table, and threw a
satisfied glance round. His menfolk had done well: things were in
apple-pie order. The fire crackled, the kettle was on the boil, the
cloth spread. He turned to Polly to kiss her welcome, to relieve her of
bonnet and mantle. But before he could do this there came a noise of
rowdy voices, of shouting and parleying. Picking up the lantern, he ran
out to see what the matter was.

Left alone Polly remained standing by the table, on which an array of
tins was set--preserved salmon, sardines, condensed milk--their tops
forced back to show their contents. Her heart was heavy as lead, and
she felt a dull sense of injury as well. This hut her home!--to which
she had so freely invited sister and friend! She would be ashamed for
them ever to set eyes on it. Not in her worst dreams had she imagined
it as mean and poor as this. But perhaps .... With the lamp in her
hand, she tip-toed guiltily to a door in the w