did keep you waiting--though, after all," she went on, with a true
feminine idea as to the flight of time, "I was only a few minutes."

"And the rest," said Brian, quizzically looking at her pretty face, so
charmingly flushed under her great white hat.

Madge disdained to notice this interruption.

"James," she cried to the coachman, "drive to the Melbourne Club. Papa
will be there, you know," she said to Brian, "and we'll take him off to
have tea with us."

"But it's only one o'clock," said Brian, as the Town Hall clock came in
sight. "Mrs. Sampson won't be ready."

"Oh, anything will do," replied Madge, "a cup of tea and some thin
bread and butter isn't hard to prepare. I don't feel like lunch, and
papa eats so little in the middle of the day, and you--"

"Eat a great deal at all times," finished Brian with a laugh.

Madge went on chattering in her usual lively manner, and Brian listened
to her with delight. Her pleasant talk drove away the evil spirit which
had been with him for the last three weeks. Suddenly Madge made an
observation as they were passing the Burke and Wills' monument, which
startled him.

"Isn't that the place where Mr Whyte got into the cab?" she
asked, looking at the corner near the Scotch Church, where a vagrant of
musical tendencies was playing "Just before the Battle, Mother," on a