"Pretty well," replied Frank Mallow; "enough to buy and stock a good sheep farm; and now I'm as warm as some of them out there," he added, with a coarse laugh, "and I've come back home for a wife to take care of the house I've built." "That's right, sir," said John Berry, nodding his head, and smiling at Rue; "nothing like a good wife, sir, to keep you square." "Then you are not going to stay?" said the Churchwarden. "Stay! what here? No thanky; I had enough of England when I was here. Other side of the world for me." The Churchwarden was right in his ideas, for, as the night wore on, Frank Mallow seemed to be trying to pique Rue by his strange bantering ways, while all the time he was so persevering in his free attentions to Sage that Luke's face grew red, and a frown gathered upon his forehead. Cyril saw it too, and as he found that his brother's conduct annoyed both Sage and Luke, he increased his attentions, laughingly telling Frank not to monopolise the ladies, but to leave a chance for some one else. "And they call themselves gentlemen!" thought Luke Ross, as he listened gravely to all that was said, and tried to keep from feeling annoyed at the free and easy way of the two brothers, who seemed to have put on their Australian manners for the occasion, and refused to believe in Mrs Portlock being troubled and her nieces annoyed. They had the greater part of the conversation, and thoroughly spoiled the evening, so that it was with a feeling of relief that Luke heard Cyril Mallow say-- "Well, come along; we must get back. Past twelve; and the governor likes early hours in the country." "Let him," said Frank Mallow, lighting his fourth cigar. "But the mater said she should wait up to see you before she went to bed," said Cyril. "Poor old girl! then I suppose we must go," said Frank, rising. "Ladies, I kiss your hands, as we say in the east. Good-night!" He shook hands all round, holding Rue Berry's hand very tightly for a moment, at the same time that her brother had Sage's little trembling fingers in his clasp. "Good-night, gentlemen; you don't go our way." The next minute Mrs Portlock uttered a sigh of relief, for the dogs were barking at the visitors whom Churchwarden Portlock was seeing to the gate. "There's a something I like about that young fellow," said John Berry, breaking the silence, as the sisters stood hand clasped in hand, with Mrs Portlock looking at them in a troubled way. "I've heard a good deal of evil spoke of him, but a young fellow who is fond of his mother can't be so very bad. Good-night, doctor; good-night, Mr Ross; good-night, Luke Ross. I'll walk with you to the gate." The "good-night" between Luke and Sage was not a warm one, for the girl felt troubled and ill at ease, but Luke was quiet and tender. "She's very tired," he said, "and I promised her--yes, I promised her--"