It was all for the best, that she had not done as I wished her two years before. Had she then consented to returning with me to England, I should have gone thither--notwithstanding my disappointment about Lenore. By doing so, I should have missed meeting my brother--besides I should have lost the opportunity of making above fifteen hundred pounds--which I had gathered on the gold-fields of Victoria. Volume Three, Chapter XX. MY SISTER STILL OBSTINATE. I had been some little time in my sister's company, before telling her of my intentions regarding her. I had allowed her to indulge in such conjectures about my designs, as the circumstances might suggest. "I am very glad, Rowland," said she, "that you have made up your mind to stay in the colonies. I hope you will live in Sydney. Oh! we would be so happy! You have come to stay here, have you not? Say yes, brother; and make me happy! Say you will not leave me any more?" "I do not wish to leave you, dear sister," said I; "and I hope that you have now learnt a lesson, that will make you willing to accept the offer I am going to make you. I have come, Martha, to take you with me to Melbourne." "What reason can you have, for wishing me to go to Melbourne? It cannot be a better place than Sydney?" "Are you still unwilling to leave Sydney?" I asked, with a painful presentiment, that I was once more to be baulked in my design of making my poor sister happy. "Brother," she replied, "I am not willing to go to Melbourne. I don't wish to leave Sydney--at least, not yet." "Would you not like to see your brother William?" I asked. "What! William! dear little Willie! Have you heard of him, Rowland? Do you know where he is?" "Yes. He is in Melbourne; and very anxious to see you. I have come to take you to him. Will you go?" "I must see William--my long-lost brother William! I must see him. How came you to find him, Rowland? Tell me all about it. Why did he not come here along with you?" "We met by mere chance--on the diggings of Victoria; and, hearing me called Rowland, he asked my other name. We then recognised one another. Little Willie--as you call him--is now a tall, fine-looking young man. Next week he is going to be married to a beautiful girl. I have come to take you to the wedding. Will you go, Martha?" "I don't know. I must see brother William. What shall I do? What shall I do? I cannot leave Sydney." "Martha," said I, "I am your brother; and am willing to assist you in any manner possible. I am older than you; and we have no parents. I have the right to some authority over you; and now demand the reason, why you are not willing to go with me to Melbourne?" My sister remained silent. "Give me a straightforward answer," I cried in a tone that partook of command. "Tell me why you will not go?" "Oh, brother!--because--because I am waiting here for some one--one who has promised--to return to me." "A man, of course?"