over called the victor to her with her lovely face of pride and joy.
Right willingly he went, and they sailed away together like the wind,
and were lost to view. Yes, this was Dalzell's hour. She knew nothing
of the brave deeds of sailor-men--common and constant as eating and
drinking, and performed to no audience and for no reward.

Alice Urquhart and Rose Pennycuick, also on horseback, followed the
flying pair; then a buggy containing Jim and schoolgirl Francie
(her governess gone home for holidays today), and a load of ironwork
for a blacksmith on the route; last of all, Mary and the sailor, for
all the world like the old father and mother of the party. Mr
Pennycuick excused himself from excursions nowadays, and so did Miss
Keene, the elderly and quite uninfluential duenna of the house, when
one was needed (she "did the flowers" and knitted singlets for
everybody).

The Shetlands pattered along at a great rate, but did not come up with
the riders until they were nearly at Bundaboo. And all the way--a long
way--Guthrie Carey had to make efforts not to bore his hostess. They
talked about the clear air and the dun-coloured land--the richest
sheep-country in the colony, but now without a blade of green upon it--
and made comments upon three bullock drays piled with wool bales, and
two camping sundowners, and one Chinaman hawker's cart, which they
encountered on the way. And that was about all.

The home-coming was a different affair.

Tea had been served in Mr Thornycroft's cool drawing-room, hats and
gloves had been collected, orders sent to the stables; and the young
sailor, panting to emulate the prowess of his rival, and thereby compel