sisters do. While still in the short-frock period of existence,
and while their hair is still free-flowing, they take the keenest
interest in boys--boys of neighbouring schools, other girls' brothers,
young bank clerks, and the like. Not because they would be good
playmates, but because they look at them in the light of possible
"sweethearts." I do not say English girl children are free from this.
By no means; in every school there may be found one or two this way
inclined, giggling, forward young things who want whipping and
sending to play cricket or dolls again. But in this land of
youthfulness it is the rule more frequently than the exception, and
herein lies the chief defect of the very young Australian girl.
She is like a peach, a beautiful, smooth, rich peach, that has come
to ripeness almost in a day, and that hastens to rub off the soft,
delicate bloom that is its chief charm, just to show its bright,
warm colouring more clearly. Aldith had, to her own infinite
satisfaction, brushed away her own "bloom," and was at present
busily engaged in trying to remove Meg's, which was very soft
and lovely before she touched it. The novels had taken away a
little, and the "Block" a little more, but, Meg was naturally
freshminded, and it took time to make much difference. Just now,
under her friend's tutelage, she was being inducted into the
delightful mysteries of sweethearting, and for the time, it quite
filled her some what purposeless young life. But it all ended
with an adventure that years afterwards used to make her cheeks
tingle painfully at the thought.

After the bi-weekly French lesson, as I have said, the two friends
used to come back together in the river-boat at five o'clock.
And by this boat there always came two boys by the name of Courtney,
and a third boy, Aldith's particular property, James Graham. Now