The spook sought Nelly's grave that night; for Andy Page loved Bob better than them all, and felt "terrible" dull whenever he was gone.
Then drought, then rust in wheat, then smut, then the "ploorer," of course; and, when all was gone, Andy went out with the old man and bullocked on clearing and tank-sinking contracts that would break the heart of a working bullock; and he drew no wages, so that the family might have full rations.
Then the glorious seasons when the prices went down to nothing—but there was more than plenty to eat, and clothes didn't matter much. And Andy came home—he had come to call Mathews' home—and went up in the afternoon to see how the wattles looked above the cemetery. And they were all in bloom.
The old people thought it would be the best thing to fix things up between Andy and Susan-the-Plain. Andy also thought it would be the right thing, both to the family and the memory of Helen; for Susan was her sister, and seemed hopeless, not so much on account of her plainness and age, as because of her temper. But Susan thought Andy was too much of a "goat" altogether, and, when all was settled, she "chucked" him for an animal of another kind, and married a brute, after all, who wanted a woman to do a man's work for him. Andy had got his heart sort of indirectly set on her because of—well, that night, the night of Susan's marriage, a doleful spook haunted the cemetery and didn't smoke.
But Andy stuck to Susan all through the poor
