morning, so you can tell her I have gone down the mine, but will be
back in an hour if she will wait for me.'

'Certainly, Madame,' said Vandeloup, looking up with his bright
smile; 'and the young lady's name?'

'Kitty Marchurst,' replied Madame, pausing a moment at the door of
the office; 'she is the daughter of the Rev. Mark Marchurst, a
minister at Ballarat. I think you will like her, M. Vandeloup,' she
went on, in a conversational tone; 'she is a charming girl--only
seventeen, and extremely pretty.'

'Then I am sure to like her,' returned Gaston, gaily; 'I never could
resist the charm of a pretty woman.'

'Mind,' said Madame, severely, holding up her finger, 'you must not
turn my favourite's head with any of your idle compliments; she has
been very strictly brought up, and the language of gallantry is
Greek to her.'

Vandeloup tried to look penitent, and failed utterly.

'Madame,' he said, rising from his seat, and gravely bowing, 'I will
speak of nothing to Mademoiselle Kitty but of the weather and the
crops till you return.'

Madame laughed pleasantly.

'You are incorrigible, M. Vandeloup,' she said, as she turned to go.
'However, don't forget what I said, for I trust you.'