We were both staying with some friends at a pleasant little place very near a station on the Southern Railway, about thirty miles from Sydney. I say a little place, for it looked so; but when you came to know it well it turned out to be a very big place. There were as many bedrooms as its hospitable owner could fill with guests; and not to speak of dining and drawing-rooms, which were large and airy and very pretty, there were bath-rooms, billiard-rooms, and smoking-rooms without stint. It was a quiet, unpretending place to look at, but it was really a most luxurious place. There were pictures and books and musical instruments everywhere; and most delightful contrivances, part couch, part hammock, part swing; and hothouse fruits and flowers; and horses of easiest pace if you wanted them, but somehow you seldom did want them. And whenever there were guests there, and that was three parts of the year, there was the best company in all Australia, and as good as there is anywhere in the world. Just now the broad verandah, which ran along the main front, was covered with banksia roses, jessamine, and woodbine, and between this and the neat wicket-gate, which was the main entrance to this little paradise, were all sorts of spring and early summer flowers. At the gate Jack and I were standing; he had come up from Sydney about an hour before. And this was what we said:— _Wilbraham._ Well, Bob, can you tell me when you are going to be married? _Easterley._ I cannot quite say, but it will be soon. Bessie and I have talked it over and she has listened to reason. She promised me that her friend, Violet Fanshawe, shall fix the day, and Violet is coming here to-morrow. _Wilbraham._ And you can trust Violet? _Easterley._ I think I can. _Wilbraham._ Do you know, Bob, I saw Miss Fanshawe yesterday, and we were talking about you. But she didn’t seem to know that she was to decide so momentous a question. _Easterley._ Perhaps she didn’t know. _Wilbraham._ Perhaps not; but, Bob, I think I should like, if it could be so arranged, to be married on the same day as you and Bessie. _Easterley._ Jack, I am very glad indeed, but I never guessed it, though I did wonder what was taking you to Sydney so often. _Wilbraham._ It was not that; it was, in the first place, to leave you and Bessie together; but sure enough it led to that. _Easterley._ But who is she? Oh, Jack, I hope we shall not be worse friends after we are married. _Wilbraham_ (with a knowing smile). Somehow, Bob, I don’t think we will. _Easterley._ Surely it is not Violet? _Wilbraham._ Yes, it’s Violet; so she and Bessie may as well settle both days in one. _Easterley._ Well, I am very glad; but how is it that Bessie never told me, for surely Violet must have told her. _Wilbraham._ No, she didn’t. It was only settled yesterday. But there is Bessie on the verandah, and she has just got a letter.