ss home than ever since
the big woman's intrusion. Even his food lost its savour. Mrs. Beamish
had taken over the cooking, and she went about it with an air that
implied he had not had a decent bite to eat since his marriage.

"There! what do you say to that now? That's something LIKE a pudding!"
and a great plum-duff was planked triumphantly down in the middle of
the dinner-table. "Lor, Polly! your bit of a kitchen ... in this
weather ... I'm fair dished." And the good woman mopped her streaming
face and could herself eat nothing.

Mahony much preferred his wife's cooking, which took account of his
tastes--it was done, too, without any fuss--and he persisted in
upholding Polly's skill, in face of Mrs. Beamish's good-natured
disbelief. Polly, on edge, lest he should openly state his preference,
nervously held out her plate.

"It's so good, mother, I must have a second helping," she declared; and
then, without appetite in the cruel, midday heat, did not know what to
do with the solid slab of pudding. Pompey and Palmerston got into the
way of sitting very close to her chair.

She confided to Richard that Mrs. Beamish disapproved of his evening
outings. "Many an 'usband takes to goin' out at such a time, my dear,
an' never gets back the 'abit of stoppin' at 'ome. So just you be
careful, ducky!" This was a standing joke between them. Mahony would
wink at Polly when he put his hat on, and wear it rakishly askew.

However, he quite enjoyed a crack with the postmaster or the
town-surveyor, at this juncture. Colonial politics were more
interesting than usual. The new Constitution had been proclaimed, and a
valiant effort was being made to form a Cabinet; to induce, that was, a
sufficient number of well-to-do men to give up time to the service of
their country. It looked as if the attempt were going to fail, just as
on the goldfields the Local Courts, by which since the Stockade the
diggers governed themselves, were failing, because none could afford to
spend his days sitting in them.

Yet however high the discussion ran, he kept one ear turned towards his
home. Here, things were at a standstill. Polly's time had come and
gone--but there was no end set to their suspense. It was blazing hot
now in the little log house; walls and roof were black with flies;
mosquitoes made the nights hideous. Even Polly lost patience with
herself when, morning after morning, she got up feeling as well as
ever, and knowing that she had to st