nd dear Ned, and poor John's children," said Polly,
falling back as a forlorn hope on her own preference.

"Why, what a piece of special pleading!" cried Mahony, and leaning
forward, he kissed the young flushed face.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm in earnest."

"Why, no, child. But Polly, my dear, even if I were tempted for a
moment to think seriously of what you say, where would the money come
from? Fees are high, it's true, if the ball's once set a-rolling. But
till then? With a jewel of a wife like mine, I'd be a scoundrel to take
risks."

Polly had been waiting for this question. On hearing it, she sat back
on her heels and drew a deep breath. The communication she had now to
make him was the hub round which all turned. Should he refuse to
consider it.... Plucking at the fringe of the tablecloth, she brought
out, piecemeal, the news that John was willing to go surety for the
money they would need to borrow for the start. Not only that: he
offered them a handsome sum weekly to take entire charge of his
children.--"Not here, in this little house--I know that wouldn't do,"
Polly hastened to throw in, forestalling the objection she read in
Richard's eyes. Now did he not think he should weigh an offer of this
kind very carefully? A name like John's was not to be despised; most
people in their position would jump at it. "I understand something
about it," said the little woman, and sagely nodded her head. "For when
I was in Geelong, Mr. Beamish tried his hardest to raise some money and
couldn't, his sureties weren't good enough." Mahony had not the heart
to chide her for discussing his private affairs with her brother.
Indeed, he rather admired the businesslike way she had gone about it.
And he admitted this, by ceasing to banter and by calling her attention
to the various hazards and inconveniences the step would entail.

Polly heard him out in silence. Enough for her, in the beginning, that
he did not decline off-hand. They had a long talk, the end of which was
that he promised to sleep over John's proposal, and delay fixing the
date of the auction till the morning.

Having yielded this point Mahony kissed his wife and sent her to bed,
himself going out with the dog for his usual stroll.

It was a fine night--moonless, but thick with stars. So much, at least,
could be said in favour of the place: there was abundant sky-room; you
got a clear half of the great vault at once. How he pitied, on such a
night, the dwellers i