ess in Sydney. She wanted to go back to the station and wait there
till the fairies brought the children home. She'd been getting the fairy
idea into her head slowly all the time. The Boss encouraged it. But the
station was sold, and he couldn't have lived there anyway without going
mad himself. He'd married her from Bathurst. Both of them have got
friends and relations here, so he thought best to bring her here. He
persuaded her that the fairies were going to bring the children here.
Everybody's very kind to them. I think it's a mistake to run away from a
town where you're known, in a case like this, though most people do it.
It was years before he gave up hope. I think he has hopes yet--after
she's been fairly well for a longish time.'

'And you never tried telling her that the children were found?'

'Yes; the Boss did. The little ones were buried on the Lachlan river at
first; but the Boss got a horror of having them buried in the Bush, so
he had them brought to Sydney and buried in the Waverley Cemetery near
the sea. He bought the ground, and room for himself and Maggie when they
go out. It's all the ground he owns in wide Australia, and once he had
thousands of acres. He took her to the grave one day. The doctors were
against it; but he couldn't rest till he tried it. He took her out, and
explained it all to her. She scarcely seemed interested. She read the
names on the stone, and said it was a nice stone, and asked questions
about how the children were found and brought here. She seemed quite
sensible, and very cool about it. But when he got her home she was back
on the fairy idea again. He tried another day, but it was no use; so
then he let it be. I think it's better as it is. Now and again, at her
best, she seems to understand that the children were found dead, and
buried, and she'll talk sensibly about it, and ask questions in a quiet
way, and make him promise to take her to Sydney to see the grave
next time he's down. But it doesn't last long, and she's always worse
afterwards.'

We turned into a bar and had a beer. It was a very quiet drink. Andy
'shouted' in his turn, and while I was drinking the second beer a
thought struck me.

'The Boss was away when the children were lost?'

'Yes,' said Andy.

'Strange you couldn't find him.'

'Yes, it was strange; but HE'LL have to tell you about that. Very likely
he will; it's either all or nothing with him.'

'I feel damned sorry for the Boss,' I said.

'Y