got no sense of dramatic fitness. And that's what I say to Ina and Elsie when they want me to fill up the chinks between the slabs, and put in plate glass windows. A bush hut is a bush hut, and there's something barbarous in the idea of turning it into a villa. Wait till I've finished my stone house. Then you shall see something really comfortable and harmonious, too. In the meantime, if we can't be comfortable, let us at least be artistic."
Those were Lord Horace's sentiments.
The new house had come to a standstill for want of funds after the foundations had been laid, and it was not likely to get beyond the foundations, unless Lord Waveryng sent out further supplies; but Lord Horace talked of it with as proud a certainty as if an army of master builders were already at work.
Lady Horace came slowly down the log steps, and held out her hand to Hallett.
"How do you do?" she said, in her gentle little Australian drawl. "I'm very glad you have come. Elsie was saying yesterday that we were so dull."
"That's because we're on our honeymoon yet," put in Lord Horace. "Elsie says it's quite disgusting the way we spoon."
Frank Hallett noticed that Lady Horace flushed a brilliant red, and interpreted the blush as a favourable sign. Oh yes, she was happy. She must be happy. If she had not been happy she could not have answered so composedly.
"We were planning to take Elsie over to Tunimba to see Mrs. Jem Hallett, before she goes down to Leichardt's Town. But we're a little frightened of Mrs. Jem, because she is so dreadfully grand, and she might be vexed if we went without a formal invitation."
"Here is the formal invitation, anyhow," said Hallett, and he produced his sister-in-law's note, and gave it to Lady Horace, who duly handed it to her husband, and it was there and then settled that they would go.
Frank Hallett had brought something else for Ina—some of the famous Tunimba figs, which were now going
