DEAR NELL,—My last letter home was posted at Rockhampton, two days before we reached Brisbane. The latter lies twenty miles up a river, so a little steamer comes down to meet the big one and carry letters and passengers to and fro. On this occasion there was a special one for Sir Arthur, and he and his party were hospitably entertained by the Governor, Mr Cairns. His private secretary at present is Mr Maudslay, a son of the celebrated engineer. He has already travelled far and near for his own amusement, and we think it probable that some day he will find his way to Fiji and become one of our band of brothers, or Knights of the Round Table, if you think that sounds better. I should scarcely think Brisbane was a congenial atmosphere. It seemed to us a singularly uninteresting place, its botanical gardens being almost the only resource. Of course, in a semi-tropical climate like that of Queensland, there is always the attraction of very varied foliage; but we thought even this was somewhat stunted. We had lovely weather on our two days’ voyage from Brisbane, and also the day we arrived here. Unfortunately we just missed seeing the festivities for the Queen’s birthday, when every ship in the beautiful harbour was dressed, and there was an immense volunteer review. There are no military here, and the volunteers only meet on this one day. Lady Robinson is, however, to have a great ball to-night, when she promises to show us any number of Australian beauties. The accommodation of Government House is so very limited, and the family party so large, that it was as much as she could do to find room for Lady Gordon and the children. All the gentlemen have found quarters at an hotel; and Commodore and Mrs Goodenough, a most hospitable and kind couple, have managed to take me in. Never was there a better illustration of the old proverb that “where there is heart-room there is hearth-room,” for their house is tiny and yet shelters many friends. Lady Robinson kindly says that, though not living under her roof, I am nevertheless her guest. So I dine there most nights. How you would revel in the exquisite loveliness of the camellias! The dinner-table is most often decorated with delicate pink camellias and maidenhair fern; and the loveliest white ones are abundant as snowdrops in an English spring. Beautiful as these are, I am not enamoured of what we have hitherto seen of Australia as contrasted with Ceylon and India. To begin with, I have contrived to catch a severe cold, not improved by all these starlight walks to and from Government House, which is just too near to be worth driving to; and the climate is apparently as changeable as in England. We have had four consecutive days of incessant rain and cold, raw air, so on every side you hear people coughing and sneezing; and we are glad to cower over fires—for which, by the way, the coal comes from Newcastle.