, she always is." "She
is not in Melbourne?"

"No. I don't quite know where she is. She has got a wandering fit on.
Come and have some lunch with me, and I'll tell you all the news."

They turned into a restaurant, and had a meal which took a long time to
get through. In the middle of the afternoon they parted, on the
understanding that he would dine with her later in her own house. At
the end of the few days that were virtually filled with him, Mrs Ewing
sat down in her fine boudoir to weep over her hard fate.

"Oh, why wasn't HE the one to have the money! Oh, why do we meet again,
now that it is too late!"

At the end of a few more days she went to her old husband to ask him
how he was. He said he was a bit troubled with his lumbago, but
otherwise fairly well.

"What you want," said she, "is a sea-voyage."

He thought not. He had never found the sea suit him. And travelling was
a great fatigue. And it was the wrong time of year for it, anyhow. They
had a good home, and it was the best place.

But she knew better. She had made up her mind, and it was useless for
him to rebel. The sea-voyage was decided on--not so much because it
would benefit his health as because his young wife had not seen England
and Europe, and was dying to do so.

Then they discussed routes.

"The thing to do," said Mrs Ewing, "is not to crowd up with that lot in
the mail steamers, where you can't do as you like, or have any special
attentions, but to go in a smaller vessel, where you would be of some
importance, and have your liberty, and plenty of space, and no tiresome
rules and restrictions--"

"My dear child, you don't know those second-rate lines. I do. I assure
you you'd be very sorry for yourself if I let you travel by them. They
are not YOUR style at all."

"Yes, I was talking to Captain Carey about it, and that was his advice,
and HE knows. On his ship they have accommodation for about six
passengers, and he suggested that, if we were quick about it, we might
be able to secure the whole, so as to be exactly as if we were on a
yacht of our own. They have a fair cook; but we could take any servants
we liked, and make ourselves comfortable in our own way--nobody to
interfere with us. He doesn't go through the hot canal. He will be back
from Sydney in three weeks--just nice time to get ready in."

Of course, they went that way. And perhaps it is better to leave the
rest of the story to the imagination of the reader, who, one h