her gloves.

Some time afterwards they steamed in alongside a gravelled
platform, among the stones of which a few grass-blades grew. This was
Melbourne. At the nearer end of the platform stood two ladies, one stout
and elderly in bonnet and mantle, with glasses mounted on a black stick,
and shortsighted, peering eyes; the other stout and comely, too, but
young, with a fat, laughing face and rosy cheeks. Laura descried them a
long way off; and, as the carriage swept past them, they also saw her,
eager and prominent at her window. Both stared at her, and the younger
lady said something, and laughed. Laura instantly connected the remark,
and the amusement it caused the speaker, with the showy red lining of
her hat, at which she believed their eyes had been directed. She also
realised, when it was too late, that her greeting had been childish,
unnecessarily effusive; for the ladies had responded only by nods. Here
were two thrusts to parry at once, and Laura's cheeks tingled. But she
did not cease to smile, and she was still wearing this weak little
smile, which did its best to seem easy and unconcerned, when she
alighted from the train.




IV.



The elderly lady was Laura's godmother; she lived at Prahran, and it was
at her house that Laura would sometimes spend a monthly holiday.
Godmother was good to them all in a brusque, sharp-tongued fashion; but