"'Ark at him," said the blushing Mr. Kemp, as Mrs. Bradshaw shook her
head at the offender and told him to behave himself.

"He's a man any woman might be happy with," said Mr. Hills. "He never
knows how much there is in his trousers-pocket. Fancy sewing on buttons
for a man like that. Gold-mining ain't in it."

Mrs. Bradshaw shook her head at him again, and Mr. Hills, after
apologizing to her for revealing her innermost thoughts before the most
guileless of men, began to question Mr. Kemp as to the prospects of a
bright and energetic young man, with a distaste for work, in New Zealand.
The audience listened with keen attention to the replies, the only
disturbing factor being a cough of Mr. Wright's, which became more and
more troublesome as the evening wore on. By the time uncle and nephew
rose to depart the latter was so hoarse that he could scarcely speak.

"Why didn't you tell 'em you had got a letter calling you home, as I told
you?" he vociferated, as soon as they were clear of the shop.

"I--I forgot it," said the old man.

"Forgot it!" repeated the incensed Mr. Wright.

"What did you think I was coughing like that for--fun?"

"I forgot it," said the old man, doggedly. "Besides, if you take my
advice, you'd better let me stay a little longer to make sure of things."

Mr. Wright laughed disagreeably. "I dare say," he said; "but I am