K'-'^i'J.SJi^
 
 
 
 L I E) RAR.Y 
 
 OF THL 
 
 UN IVE.R5ITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 D32Zc
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF A 
 CIJEKENCY GIRL
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF A 
 CUERENCY GIRL 
 
 W. CA.RLTON DA WE 
 
 AUTHOR OP "the emu's HEAD," "MOUNT DESOLATION, 
 
 "the golden lake," etc. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 WARD AND DOWNEY 
 
 Limited 
 YORK BUILDINGS, ADELPHI, W.C. 
 
 1894 
 
 [All o'ights reserved]
 
 
 -o) 
 
 r 
 
 TO 
 MY SISTER 
 
 G W E N 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS 
 
 LOVINGLY DEDICATED. 
 
 1 
 
 In 

 
 THE CONFESSIONS OE 
 A CUEEENCY GIEL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I AM not aware that I ever had any of that 
 unnatural precocity which is supposed 
 to distinguish the clever child, but 
 I believe I must have been a very 
 small thing indeed when my mind took 
 its first impressions of this terrestrial 
 sphere. What my age was at that par- 
 ticular time I have never been able to 
 ascertain, though I have a most vivid 
 recollection of my father's grand, sad 
 face, seared with pain, as it were, and 
 bronzed by the fierceness of the sun ; of 
 my mother, with her gentle ways and 
 winning smiles ; and of "Will, dear old 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 Will, with his sturdy boyish figure, his 
 fearless blue eyes, and his thick golden 
 curls. And then came Harold, poor little 
 Harold. He was younger than I, and 
 was our pet, our baby. How proud we 
 all were of him. What a grand head we 
 thought he had ; and when we saw 
 him take to books as naturally as other 
 children do to toys and sweetstuffs, we 
 all prophesied for him a great future. 
 Then came that dreadful accident to his 
 spine, and we knew that he was crippled 
 for life. Poor Harold ! We watched his 
 beautiful face grow thinner, paler, and, 
 oh, so spiritual-looking, so dreamy, so 
 utterly unlike anything of the earth, that 
 often I was afraid to look into his great 
 eyes ; and I have seen mother sit with 
 him in her lap staring at him in a blank, 
 wondering sort of way, till, overcome 
 by her emotions, she would clasp him 
 suddenly to her breast and sob con- 
 vulsively. 
 
 But they were peaceful, blessed times, 
 and though I had no knowledge of father's
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 3 
 
 yearly income, I knew that we never had 
 any debts we could not meet, that the 
 larder was always full, and that the 
 clothes we wore were of the finest. In- 
 deed, I was always under the impression 
 that we were very rich, for, with the 
 exception of Mr. Langton — the wealthy 
 squatter from whom we rented our land — 
 
 there was no one in the neighbourhood 
 
 • 
 
 who had a better house or finer horses 
 than ours. Father, being a thrifty man, 
 and proud of his wife and family, had 
 saved and schemed to better our condition, 
 and I have often heard him declare that 
 he would let them see if there was any- 
 thing in the country too good for his 
 children. I didn't think there was, my- 
 self — I didn't see how there could be — 
 but I not infrequently wondered who the 
 mysterious '' they " were, why he was so 
 fond of repeating the expression, and 
 why he always looked so combative when 
 he said it. Usually his nature was as 
 placid as mother's, and if not quite so 
 sweet — which no man's could be — it was 
 B 2
 
 4 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 more intense, and tliis became doubly im- 
 pressive from the very repression of the 
 stronger spirit. He would fondle us by 
 the hour, and in the winter nights, when 
 the wind howled fiercely without and the 
 rain fell, turning each little creek into a 
 raging torrent, we would draw our chairs 
 round the big wood fire, father in one 
 corner, mother in the other, and he would 
 read to us stories of heroic deeds, of great 
 fights by sea and land, or the biographies 
 of those great Englishmen who have im- 
 mortalized their country ; or, to please 
 Harold, who usually nestled at his 
 mother's feet, staring with his big eyes 
 into the leaping, crackling fire, he would 
 read or narrate wonderful legends of 
 good and evil spirits, giants and dwarfs, 
 dragons, and all the catalogue of horrors 
 which, strangely enough, are served up to 
 appease the intellectual cravings of the 
 infant. And Harold loved these weird, 
 grotesque stories, and the stronger and 
 more improbable they were, the more 
 interested and enthusiastic grew he over
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 5 
 
 them. And father, with one of his rare, 
 sweet smiles, would pat the lad on the 
 head and call him a strange boy, and at 
 regular intervals would send off to Mel- 
 bourne for books of poetry and fairy lore, 
 till Harold had quite a little library of 
 such treasures, which he guarded with 
 jealous pertinacity. 
 
 It is the pride of intellect that all shall 
 honour it. No matter how the cynic may 
 sneer, the vulgar laugh in his vacant 
 way, nature forces them, inwardly at 
 least, to confess its power. I think this 
 reverence for what we call the brain is, 
 like our religion, born in us. "We cannot 
 cast it aside even if we would. A man 
 may not be religious — nay, he may even 
 be deemed irreligious — and yet he will 
 have no one tamper with his faith, nor 
 would he change it for worlds — that is, if 
 he possess any of that doggedness which 
 sets the world spinning. Strange thing, 
 is it not ? For, after all, is our religion 
 born in us ? It seems so, since man has 
 evolved it from chaos. Or is this brain-
 
 6 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 worsliip born in us also ? Or what is 
 born in us, except sin ? 
 
 Nevertlieless, tliis homage to intellect 
 is, in its way, as true as most things ; and 
 whether it be real or affected — for what 
 is not tinged with insincerity? — it is 
 a fact of which every ordinary observer 
 must be well aware. I know we were 
 all proud enough at the thought of Harold 
 possessing more than the average share 
 of brain-power, and when, in his eighth 
 year, he penned a short fairy tale, which 
 bore a striking resemblance to certain 
 portions of Jack the Giant-Killer, we 
 thought that greatness had at last dawned 
 upon the family, and regarded Harold as 
 a being to be cherished and pampered. 
 What possibilities were not centred in 
 that pale-faced lad ? Who could say 
 what thoughts were simmering in that 
 little head ? In this is the glory, almost 
 the terror, of children. The imagination 
 fails to picture what they may not be, 
 and the fond parent, left to her own 
 imaginings, sees a star brighter than
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 7 
 
 any other in the firmament. I know my 
 mother worshipped her youngest born ; 
 perhaps because she was so proud of his 
 intelligence, perhaps — and this I think 
 more likely — because he was so dread- 
 fully afflicted. And then, he was never 
 happy unless he could touch her hand, 
 her dress, or at least look upon her ; 
 while Will and I, both being strong and 
 therefore independent, grew more in touch, 
 in sympathy with each other. We rode 
 our ponies to school together, and many a 
 helter-skelter over the dusty roads or 
 across the long dry plains have he and I 
 enjoyed; and he, who was venturesome 
 even for a boy, put me up to many a 
 trick of horsemanship, and, instilling me 
 with much of his own recklessness, taught 
 me to despise creeks and fences and 
 boulders, till he used to say there was no 
 better or pluckier rider in the district 
 than I. But that was Will's modesty, 
 for he sat his own pony like an ideal 
 horseman, and knew not the meaning of 
 the word fear. And what a boy he was !
 
 8 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 Straight and strong as a mountain pine, 
 with eyes as blue as the heavens on a still, 
 hot day, and hair as yellow and curly as 
 a cluster of honeysuckle ; the flush of 
 healthy youth on his cheek, and strength 
 and freedom in every movement. Poor 
 old Will ! They were happy days, were 
 they not ? The air was nectar to us then, 
 and in the very thought of life there was 
 so much joy that we had no time to think 
 of the morrow or the morrow's clouds. 
 And yet they were so dark when they 
 came, and so charged with woe for us. 
 
 If there was one thing that kept us 
 free from trouble so long it was, perhaps, 
 the strange, almost lonesome, life we led 
 at Granite Creek — for such was the name 
 of the watercourse which ran through 
 our land. We rarely had any visitors, 
 and more rarely still went anywhere. 
 Once father took us all to Melbourne for 
 a month, and I shall never forget how 
 delighted I was with the marvels of the 
 great city, but when we returned the old 
 lonely life commenced again, never so
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 9 
 
 lonely as now. Oh, to live for ever in 
 the whirl of a great city, amid its roar 
 and bustle, thought I, and for a full 
 month I chafed foolishly at the dulness 
 of Eden. But, after all, there is life, 
 blood, movement in a city. The men in 
 it are the men who move the levers which 
 set -the world buzzing. You are one of 
 the mighty ; and I often wished that fate 
 had formed me of the other sex, so 
 that I too might go among men and place 
 my hand upon the lever of the world, and 
 set all things in motion. Dreams, of 
 course ; but what would the world be 
 without its dreams ? 
 
 In saying that we never went any- 
 where, or that we never had any visitors, 
 I meant that we did not engage in social 
 duties to the extent which might reason- 
 ably have been expected of us, owing 
 principally, so I thought, to mother's 
 want of energy and father's rooted dis- 
 like to society of any kind. He worked 
 hard all day, and so that he could have 
 his family about him when the night drew
 
 lo The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 in, he cared for nothing else. This was a 
 source of considerable surprise to me, for 
 whenever anyone did corae to our home- 
 stead father was always so courteous, so 
 extremely affable, that one could scarcely 
 help thinking that in the society of 
 strangers he found his keenest pleasure. 
 There were, however, two or three 
 people with whom our family was 
 on excellent footing, chief among them 
 being the Wallaces of Wallan, and the 
 rich squatter, Mr. Langton, who had 
 known father in England ; indeed, they 
 had both been at Cambridge University 
 together. 
 
 But of the two the Wallaces were the 
 dearer friends, for there was not that 
 difference in our purses which we had to 
 confront when in Mr. Langton's pre- 
 sence ; besides, mother and Mrs. Wallace 
 had been schoolgirls together, and when 
 mother left England to join father, her 
 friend accompanied her, for she too had 
 set her heart on a man who had quitted 
 the Old Country to seek his fortune.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, ii 
 
 Brave men ; liow I envy them ! They are 
 the true knights-adventurers of these 
 later days, and though they swing the 
 axe and the pick instead of riding about 
 in tenfold steel and rescuing timid 
 maidens, they are none the less heroes, 
 heroes to the core. No wonder the new 
 countries thrive when the energy of the 
 old pours into them. • 
 
 Our friendship with the Wallaces dates 
 back to my earliest recollection, and I 
 know I used to think Mr. Wallace a very 
 great person, and one possessed of un- 
 limited power, especially after I had 
 seen him at a great auction sale dis- 
 posing of countless head of cattle in the 
 most unconcerned and indifferent manner 
 imaginable — for he was auctioneer, civil 
 engineer, architect, estate agent, and 
 goodness only knows what not. He had 
 been everything in his day, father used to 
 say, and had tramped the colony from 
 end to end ; had fought in the stockade 
 at Ballarat, and had been mainly instru- 
 mental in effecting the capture of more
 
 12 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 than one notorious bushranger. But as- 
 trooper or digger, swagman or gentle- 
 man, he was always the same kindhearted, 
 genial man ; a trifle pompous, perhaps, 
 a little rough on the surface, and 
 liable, at times, to make use of blunt 
 language — language, too, which might 
 easily disconcert you were it not for the 
 eternal twinkle in his clear eyes. Of a 
 different pattern, but equally as genial 
 and full of warm affection, was his good 
 wife. She and mother, as I have said, 
 had been schoolgirls together, and the 
 devotion of those two old friends would 
 have convinced the most cynical that 
 there is yet unswerving love and loyalty 
 in the human heart. It seemed as though 
 they had formed themselves on each 
 other's virtues, and had striven all the 
 days of their life to live up to their lofty 
 ideal. That they failed in their endea- 
 vours I cannot even now believe, knowing 
 how weak flesh is. 
 
 The Wallace family consisted of two 
 children, Arthur and Ella, the boy being
 
 The Confessions of a Cttrrency Girl, 1 3 
 
 some two years older than Will, the girl 
 a few months older than I. But in spite 
 of the disparity of our ages — and children 
 are great sticklers in this respect — we 
 were fast friends from the early days of 
 our infancy. Indeed, I had no other girl 
 friend, and if I was not staying with 
 Ella, Ella was staying with me. Then 
 there was Arthur, too, of whom they 
 always teased me — a great, shy, over- 
 grown boy who used to look exceedingly 
 embarrassed whenever I spoke to him, and 
 who would blush and tremble like a baby at 
 any little attention I might be considerate 
 enough to pay him. Yet he was a hand- 
 some lad ; that is, I think he must have 
 been, for he had a pair of great, brown 
 earnest eyes — almost as earnest as 
 Harold's — and a dark, clear-cut face like 
 those which I have so often seen since in 
 pictures of young Italians. But I never 
 thought much of poor Arthur's looks 
 then, for those were the days of the 
 ephemeral mind for which there is no 
 morrow.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 And now the first cloud was rapidly 
 beginning to darken the horizon of 
 our lives, and a gloomy cloud it was, 
 through which our sun sought in vain to 
 shine. I have, as I have said, noted that 
 father never went anywhere, and that 
 mother, with the exception of her friend- 
 ship with Mrs. Wallace, lived her life 
 shut up within herself ; and I have like- 
 wise wondered why they should live so 
 strangely when both were gentlefolks, 
 well to do, and therefore most desirable 
 acquaintances, especially in such a limited 
 social circle as that of Wallan and its 
 neighbourhood. But T was soon to learn 
 the cause of this self-inflicted solitude, 
 and then I ceased to wonder at it. A 
 breath will wound the sensitive spirit, and 
 they were both sensitive and vulnerable.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 15 
 
 Though the many would have received 
 them with open arms, neither father nor 
 mother would lay themselves open to the 
 shafts of the brutal. 
 
 I was ten years old when I was first 
 made aware of my heritage, though for 
 a long time previously I had become con- 
 scious that wherever I went I was the 
 object of considerable attention. Even 
 the girls at school took to looking at me 
 in a quizzing sort of way, whispering, 
 and then leaving off their whispers as I 
 approached ; and upon several occasions 
 I had seen old ladies put up their glasses, 
 look me over curiously as though I were 
 some strange animal, and then mutter, 
 "Dear me," '* What a pity," "And so 
 pretty, poor thing," and then turn away 
 with a shake of their heads. I could 
 never understand those curious glances, 
 those ominous head-shakes, and used to 
 think that there was something supremely 
 grotesque in their exhibitions of pity ; 
 for I was young and strong, and not un- 
 handsome either ; at least, my modesty has
 
 1 6 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 every reason to believe that I was not, 
 and morever, I had known no care — 
 except one slight attack of measles — 
 since the day I had first entered on this 
 sublunary scene. There was plenty of 
 that to come, unfortunately, but as yet 
 my path had been a sunny one, and I 
 gave no thought to the winter which was 
 surely creeping onward. 
 
 The full significance of it all befell me 
 one day in school. We were hard at our 
 geography, and when the question time 
 came round it so happened that I was 
 asked what Botany Bay was famous for, 
 and upon my immediately answering 
 '' Convicts," all the girls about me gave 
 such unmistakable signs of tittering that 
 the teacher's face flushed hotly, and I 
 saw her regard me with a look of the 
 most intense pity. Not understanding 
 why she should thus honour me, though 
 guessing intuitively that there was some- 
 thing wrong, I returned her look with 
 one of wonder, and, maybe, one of 
 appealing also, for she came over to me
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 1 7 
 
 and said, '* Never mind them, Florence 
 dear. They are only ignorant country 
 children. Pay no heed to them." But 
 when I told mother that night, she took 
 me in her arms, sobbed over me, and 
 called me her '^ poor unfortunate child ; " 
 and when father came in she told him, 
 and I saw his face grow black as a 
 thunder-cloud. 
 
 " They shall go near that school no 
 more," he said, addressing mother. ** I 
 will not have my children insulted." 
 
 And I saw mother look up at him, oh, 
 such a pitiful look, and his own hot eyes 
 grew suddenly dim. He turned his face 
 away and walked to the other end of the 
 room. 
 
 '' It is we who are to blame," she said. 
 *' God forgive us." 
 
 '' Perhaps ! " he exclaimed angrily. 
 " But why should blame attach itself to 
 these innocent children ? " 
 
 Mother, instead of replying, for father 
 was then in one of his combative moods, 
 turned and caressed me more tenderly, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 1 8 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 while Harold, his big eyes full of wonder, 
 put his arms round our necks, pressed his 
 beautiful face in between our faces, and 
 mingled his tears with ours. That night 
 remains in my memory as one of the 
 saddest I ever knew, and yet one of the 
 sweetest too, for all the loving tender- 
 ness which we had hitherto experienced 
 from our parents was eclipsed by their 
 love of that night, and I well recol- 
 lect that when I went to bed I wept 
 myself, joyfully wept myself, to sleep. 
 
 But we went to that school no more, 
 and father engaged a governess for us, 
 who used to come over from Wallan three 
 times a week; though, if the truth were 
 told, most of our education was under- 
 taken and completed by mother, who had 
 once been a creditable scholar, and who 
 remembered sufiBcient to take me through 
 the world, though we intended that Will, 
 and Harold too, if he were strong enough, 
 should go off to Melbourne to finish his 
 education. 
 
 And so the weeks sped by, and though
 
 The Confessions of a Curi^ency Girl. 19 
 
 I had not forgotten the cause of our leav- 
 ing the school, and mother's subsequent 
 tears and father's anger, I was yet too 
 young to puzzle over what I could not 
 possibly comprehend, and had it not been 
 for the occasional glimpses of my old 
 school-fellows, it is more than probable 
 I should have forgotten it altogether. 
 One day, however, the mystery was made 
 clear once for all, and, young as I was, I 
 knew that a shame had fallen on us from 
 which we should not escape this side of 
 the grave. 
 
 Will and I were returning one day 
 from Wallan, where we had been to order 
 in the week's stores, both mounted on our 
 ponies, and as full of life as two young 
 people of ten and twelve can be. I know 
 I was thinking how splendid it was to 
 have a pony of one's own, and to be able 
 to scamper along the roads or across the 
 paddocks without the slightest exertion — 
 to oneself — when we came to the slip-rails 
 which led into one of Mr. Langton's 
 large paddocks, which in its turn led, by 
 2
 
 20 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 a grassy road over which Will and I had 
 had many a furious race, to our own 
 home. Through this paddock we invari- 
 ably went while going to or returning 
 from Wallan, and through it we now 
 proposed going. On reaching the rails, 
 however, we were surprised, and not 
 agreeably so, to see three of the town 
 boys seated on the topmost rail eating 
 sour apples. 
 
 " Hullo ! '* cried Will, imperceptibly 
 drawing rein ; '' there's that Patsy Dillon 
 and his friends. They've been stealing 
 our fruit again. I told Smith to keep his 
 eyes skinned, but I don't believe he'd 
 take the trouble to chase anybody if he 
 saw them." 
 
 " But this is that awful Dillon boy," I 
 ventured. 
 
 ''Of course it is," was the reply. "But 
 what of that ? " 
 
 I thought a lot of it, for this Patsy 
 Dillon, a lad of about fourteen, was a 
 terrible young scapegrace, whose reputa- 
 tion for impudence and wickedness was
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 2 1 
 
 unequalled in the townsliip. He was the 
 acknowledged bully of the place, the 
 terror of all respectable children, and 
 the admiration of all the worthless 
 members of that mixed community, who 
 applauded each evil effort, and prophesied 
 that he would prove to be one of the 
 grandest bushrangers the country had 
 ever turned out. And it must be coTi- 
 fessed that Patsy strove hard to live up 
 to the exalted opinion his friends held of 
 him, and never by any chance did he 
 miss an opportunity of doing wrong, or 
 of injuring or insulting all who came 
 within his category of " stuck-up." 
 
 That we were classed among the stuck- 
 up — that is, the respectable — we knew 
 well, and Will and he had on more than 
 one occasion bandied some words of an 
 uncomplimentary nature ; but Will, like 
 the rest of the younger boys, had a 
 sneaking respect for Patsy, fostered, no 
 doubt, by fear, for Master Dillon was 
 deemed a boy of uncommon pugilistic 
 prowess.
 
 2 2 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 As soon as I saw this ill-dressed, 
 ferocious young monster perclied perkily 
 on the rail, eating our apples, too, with 
 an attendant monster on each side of 
 him, my heart failed me, and, pulling in 
 my pony, I whispered to Will that it 
 would be better for us to turn back into 
 the main road and abandon our thought 
 of a grassy gallop. 
 
 Will shook his head. " They've seen 
 us, Flos. If we were to turn back now, 
 they'd know I was afraid of them." 
 
 ''But aren't you. Will?" 
 
 " No, I'm not," says he defiantly, but 
 all the same the poor old fellow looked 
 very serious as he rode up to the 
 rails. 
 
 There sat the three boys grinning like 
 so many monkeys, but not one of them 
 offered to move. 
 
 " Hullo, Hastins ! " cried that dreadful 
 Dillon boy, his horrid mouth full of our 
 fruit, '' 'ave a apple ? " 
 
 " No, thank you," says Will, as digni- 
 fied as a young lord, or, as I take it, a
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 23 
 
 lord ouglit to be. "I should be very 
 much obliged to you, though, if you 
 wouldn't mind getting down while we 
 pass through." And springing from his 
 pony he handed me the reins. 
 
 '' Git down," echoed Patsy, with an 
 impudent grin. " Well, I'm blowed ! " 
 The proposal almost took Master Dillon's 
 breath away. 
 
 '' If you wouldn't mind," said Will. 
 
 " But I do mind," said Patsy, with an 
 evil look. " You just git up, young 
 feller, and take yourself orf." 
 
 " Very well," replied Will, who enter- 
 tained no thought of making the young 
 scamp descend from his perch. *' I shall 
 not forget to let Mr. Mackenzie (Mr. 
 Langton's manager) know about this. 
 He's had his eye on you for a long time. 
 Patsy Dillon." 
 
 Patsy uttered some rude remark, but 
 Will turned to remount his pony without 
 replying. 
 
 '' Bah ! " cried the young ragamuflBn, 
 seeing Will was not inclined to quarrel.
 
 24 The Confessions of a Cttrrency Girl. 
 
 ** who'd take any notice of wliat you say, 
 you convict ! " 
 
 Convict/ 1 looked at Will in wonder, 
 my astonisliment growing as I saw the 
 blood rush furiously to his face. Then it 
 passed away as suddenly as it came, 
 leaving him as white as death. 
 
 '' Convict,'* repeated the Irish boy, 
 with an evil leer. '* You're a nice one 
 to give yourself airs, ain't you ? If 
 my parents is poor," continued the young 
 monster, mockingly, '' they're honest, 
 and that's more than you can say, you 
 Jag!" 
 
 Will clutched his bridle nervously, so 
 nervously that the bit jingled loudly. A 
 dreadful look came into his face, a look 
 that I never wish to see in a young boy's 
 face again. One moment he seemed to 
 hesitate, then swinging suddenly round 
 walked back to where the three boys sat. 
 Looking up at his tormentor, who with 
 his mouth full of fruit sat grinning as 
 usual, though rather nervously now, he said 
 savagely, *' You're a liar ! " and seizing
 
 The Confessions of a Cttrre^icy Girl, 25 
 
 Master Dillon by tlie ankle, brouglit him 
 ignominiouslj to earth. 
 
 In a moment there was a dreadful 
 clatter and confusion. Master Dillon, 
 bounding to his feet, cursing more horribly 
 than a bullock-driyer — trying, like all his 
 class, to terrorize by the violence of his 
 words — rushed at Will, and in a moment 
 they were pounding away at each other 
 like two young demons. I screamed loudly, 
 and Will, thinking, as he said after, that 
 something was the matter, left his adver- 
 sary and rushed over to me. This move 
 inspired the Irish boy with renewed 
 courage, and he began to taunt and 
 threaten us to such an alarming extent 
 that I, growing extremely terrified, 
 started to cry. I begged Will to come 
 away, but he was as obstinate as an 
 unbroken colt. 
 
 '' There, there, don't be frightened," 
 he said, trying to pacify me — dear old 
 Will ! *' He called me a convict, Flos. 
 He's a liar, and I'll make him eat his 
 lies."
 
 2 6 The Confessions of a Ctirrency GirL 
 
 '' Come on, then," said Patsy, throwing 
 off his coat and turning up his dreadful 
 shirt-sleeves, " and let's see what sort of 
 stuff you're made of. Come and tell me 
 how you was lagged." 
 
 " Don't, don't. Will !" I cried, for I knew 
 of the evil reputation of that horrible 
 little monster, and I fully expected to see 
 him pulverize poor Will. But Will, once 
 his blood was up, was his father in minia- 
 ture, and as such was not very easily 
 daunted. 
 
 '* Look here," he said, his face quite 
 hard and old-looking, " I'll fight him if he 
 kills me." And with that he pulled off his 
 coat, handed it to me with an excited sort 
 of smile, and deliberately rolled his sleeves 
 above his elbows. 
 
 As long as I live I shall never forget 
 that fight. Even now my blood warms 
 at the recollection of it. I live my young 
 days over again ; I see that evil little 
 monster, Dillon, and Will, face to face ; 
 their hands fly like lightning through the 
 air ; they roll from side to side and come
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 27 
 
 with a crash to the earth ; again they 
 uprise and once more fall foul of each 
 other ; and all the while my heart is beat- 
 ing as though it would burst, the blood 
 rushes so tumultuously through my brain 
 that I almost fall from the saddle, and the 
 tears which rush to my eyes dim my vision. 
 But at last I hear the sound of a dreadful 
 blow, and the next moment Master Dillon 
 is wriggling on the grass with Will stand- 
 ing over him with clenched hands : and 
 he makes the young vagabond eat his 
 words as he said he would. 
 
 Dear, brave old Will ! How my heart 
 went out to him as he stepped up to me, 
 a smile on his poor bruised face. I did 
 not ask him if he were hurt ; I knew that 
 his wounds were honourable. I could only 
 say, ''Oh,Will, A¥ill !" and cry again for joy. 
 
 To slip on his coat and mount his pony, 
 which I had been holding, was the work 
 of a moment ; then turning to Dillon, who 
 presented a deplorable front, and his two 
 companions, who did not yet seem to fully 
 comprehend the downfall of their hero.
 
 28 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 he commanded them to let down the rails, 
 an order which they reluctantly obeyed, 
 and into the paddock we passed. 
 
 We rode on for some time in silence, I 
 glancing alternately at Will and he look- 
 ing nervously about him as though he 
 were ashamed to meet my eyes. Poor 
 boy, as though the shame were his. 
 Rather was he a hero of whom I was 
 decidedly proud. He would be a man 
 some day, and stand up for me always, 
 fearing nothing, afraid of nobody, secure 
 in the knowledge of his own strength. 
 Oh, what a grand thing it must be to be 
 a strong man ! 
 
 And as I thought of all these things, 
 and wondered and admired his prowess 
 the more I thought, I was at a loss to 
 understand why he, who was usually so 
 amiable and easy-going, should have 
 flared up so excitedly and fought so 
 desperately over a word. 
 
 '' What did it mean, Will ? " I asked. 
 
 He turned to me, a strange look in his 
 flushed eyes.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 29 
 
 " Mean ? " lie echoed. '' What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 '* Why did he call you a convict ? " 
 
 I saw his hot face turn very pale, but 
 he answered with a palpable effort of 
 indifference, " He wanted to insult me, I 
 suppose." 
 
 ''He won't do it again, Will?" I said 
 with a laugh. 
 
 *' ]N"ot to my face anyway." And 
 digging his heels into his pony, away he 
 darted, I following hard in his tracks. 
 
 As we approached our house — a roomy 
 one-storied building of alternate brick 
 and granite, with a large verandah in the 
 front of it over which was twined creepers 
 and roses and grape-vines — we beheld 
 father and mother sitting in the verandah, 
 and before Will could stop me I had 
 galloped towards them, flung myself from 
 the saddle, and rushed up the steps cry- 
 ing out that Will had just beaten Patsy 
 Dillon in a fight. Poor mother rose from 
 her chair with a look of intense alarm on 
 her face, and when Will, all bruised and
 
 30 The Confessions of a Cicrrency Girl. 
 
 dirty and stained with blood, approached 
 in a shame-faced way with his head hung 
 down, she sprang towards him and embrac- 
 ing him passionately began to sob. And 
 then poor old Will sobbed too, and Harold, 
 his big eyes starting out of his head, 
 limped up on his crutches, and learning 
 the cause of the tears, began to whimper 
 in unison. As for myself, I could have 
 cried till further orders. 
 
 At last father spoke. 
 
 '' So you have been fighting Patsy 
 Dillon," he said, '' and your sister tells 
 me you have beaten him ? " 
 
 Will muttered something about it not 
 being his fault, but that father's state- 
 ment was substantially correct. I thought 
 that for a moment father's eyes glistened 
 with pride, though I believe I also 
 doubted if that look betokened a softer 
 feeling. I understand it better now. 
 
 " Have you forgotten," went on father 
 rather sternly, " that I have more than 
 once warned you to avoid such boys as 
 Patsy Dillon ? "
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 31 
 
 ** No, sir," said Will, looking up through 
 his tears, and a fine, honest, manly boy 
 he looked as he spoke, '' but he insulted 
 me, and — and, I had an old debt to settle 
 with him, and I settled it." 
 
 *' And him too," I said, laughing and 
 crying at the same time. 
 
 Mother pressed him fondly to her, and 
 turning to father, said, '' Surely, Frank; 
 you are not angry with the boy ? " 
 
 "Not yet," said father with a strange 
 smile, " for though I do not approve of 
 his fighting every ragamuffin in the town, 
 I would not have him forget to always 
 stand up for his rights like a man. Hard 
 knocks he'll get in plenty, and I should 
 like my son to be able to give as well as 
 take. But I must know more of this 
 insult of which he speaks. What was 
 it?" 
 
 A painful flush passed over Will's 
 bruised face, and he held his head down 
 without speaking ; but I answered quickly 
 enough, '' He called Will a convict." 
 
 In a moment father's whole demeanour
 
 32 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 underwent a curious change ; his eyes 
 blazed ominously, and lie looked from one 
 to the other with a look of terror and fury, 
 like an entrapped lion might. Then he 
 turned suddenly away and strode to the 
 far end of the verandah. Poor mother 
 pressed the warrior closer to her, though 
 her excited eyes were riveted on her 
 husband. 
 
 But presently father returned to us, and 
 though he again had command of himself, 
 his face was still changed and very 
 terrible. Haggard, almost ghastly, he 
 was, and his eyes shone with so much 
 rage and pain, that I had only courage 
 enough to take a momentary glance at 
 them. 
 
 '' Is this," he said, and I could not help 
 noticing how his voice quivered — " is this 
 the first time you have been called that 
 name ? " 
 
 '' No, sir." 
 
 " You have never mentioned it to me." 
 
 *'No, sir, because I knew it was all 
 lies."
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, '^'^^ 
 
 I saw mother and father exchange a 
 deep look, the meaning of which I could 
 not then fathom. 
 
 *' Of course, of course," he answered 
 hurriedly. " For the future you must 
 keep to yourself, and have nothing to do 
 with these people. Such persons, evil 
 themselves, are always trying to drag 
 someone down to their own level. Now 
 run away and tidy yourself. Children," 
 turning to Harold and me, "you will find 
 the tea already laid within." 
 
 But as I went into mother's room — the 
 windows of which opened on to the 
 verandah — to lay aside my hat, I heard 
 her and father, who were still outside, 
 speaking in a low, earnest voice. "What 
 they said I could not quite catch, and I 
 did not dare stay and listen; but as I 
 was leaving the room I heard him say, 
 *'And for this, dear, we have brought- 
 those poor children into the world." 
 
 " God's will be done," she answered in 
 a choking voice. 
 
 I took a hasty glance through the 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 window, impelled to this action by some- 
 thing greater than curiosity. Mother's 
 face was hidden on father's breast, and 
 her body was shaking with sobs. His 
 arms were about her, and he was kissing 
 her hair. 
 
 What could it mean ?
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 And now I think I may as well abandon 
 even the pretence of mystery which may 
 have shrouded these opening pages, for 
 ours is, or hopes to be, a plain-sailing 
 narrative ; our aim the relation of simple 
 facts in proper sequence. 
 
 The covert sneers which we had borne 
 so long in ignorance, the pitying looks, 
 the whispered conversations broken off as 
 we approached, the thousand and one 
 slights which I see so plainly now, though 
 happily ignorant of them then, were not 
 without their cause, or bred of spite alone, 
 for we were currency people — convicts 1 
 Or, at least, when I say we were 
 convicts, I mean that father had been 
 transported to New South Wales, and 
 that as the just laws of heaven and earth 
 D 2
 
 36 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 declare that the sins of the fathers shall be 
 visited upon the children, we were of the 
 race of Ishmael. For a long time I did 
 not quite know what it meant, and it was 
 not till I was fifteen or sixteen that I 
 thoroughly understood my position. Not 
 conscious of being inferior to those about 
 me, I could not understand the differ- 
 ence between the convict and the free. 
 Try as I might, I could not see where my 
 inferiority lay ; nor was I the less surely 
 convinced that there was no boy in the dis- 
 trict the equal of Will. And if father was 
 sent to New South Wales he was a gentle- 
 man with it all, and any man might have 
 done as he did. Not that he was without 
 blame, but it seems hard that he should 
 have paid so dearly for a moment of 
 justifiable passion, been branded with 
 the indelible brand, stained he and his 
 from generation unto generation. 
 
 It all came out one day. I was then in 
 my sixteenth year, and Will, who was 
 nearly three years older, was then a great 
 big fellow, promising exceptional develop-
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 37 
 
 ment in tlie next few years. There tad 
 been a row that morning out in the 
 sheds between him and one of our men, 
 over some young cattle which the latter 
 was branding. I don't know exactly how 
 it came about, but Will said the fellow 
 was unnecessarily brutal to the poor 
 beasts, and when he remonstrated with 
 him the man threw down the brand, made 
 use of some very violent language, and 
 told him to do it himself. Now Will was 
 never one to be trifled with. Though 
 even-tempered enough if you did not 
 purposely cross him, he had yet all 
 father's fierceness of disposition with 
 little of his restraint ; beside which, he 
 was a very powerful young fellow, as 
 healthy and hard as a gum-tree ; one 
 who would as soon fight as not, and who 
 would put up his hands quicker than he 
 would take them down. He therefore 
 ordered the man to pick up the branding- 
 iron and go on with his work. 
 
 '' I'll see you d d first," said the 
 
 man.
 
 ^S The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 Will took a step nearer him, an angry 
 light in his eye. 
 
 ** Do what you're told," he said. 
 
 " Not for yon," snarled the man, ^' nor 
 no other d d convict." 
 
 Will's fist shot out and the man went 
 over with a crash. Then followed a bit 
 of rough and tumble ; but the man was 
 no match for Will, who soon gave him all 
 he wanted and then drove him from the 
 yard, threatening him with a like chas- 
 tisement if he ever showed his face there 
 again. 
 
 This was the story Will told as we all 
 sat at tea that evening. Father paled 
 visibly at the mention of that dreadful 
 word "' convict," and I saw mother put 
 out her hand and draw Harold a wee bit 
 closer to her. 
 
 '' And now," said old Will at the con- 
 clusion of his narrative, his eyes fixed on 
 father's face, his own face very troubled 
 and serious, " I want to know what 
 it means, dad. I may not be a man 
 in years, but I am both big enough
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 39 
 and old enough to understand things 
 
 now. 
 
 " Well ? " said father, though just a 
 little nervously I thought. 
 
 " I want to know," continued Will, " if 
 there is any truth in this convict business, 
 because if there isn't, I'll break the neck 
 of the next man who taunts me with it. 
 You don't know what I've put up wit£, 
 dad, in one way and another. As a boy 
 I have often been ashamed to hold my 
 head up ; as a young man I have suffered 
 more deeply still. Not that they say 
 anything outright — they know better 
 than that — " he added grimly, *' but 
 people can look what they think as well 
 as speak it." 
 
 "They think," echoed father hotly. 
 <« Why, boy, they are not fit to wipe your 
 boots." 
 
 "Perhaps not," answered his son 
 queerly, " but that is not what I want to 
 know." 
 
 Here mother interposed with some 
 remark about keeping oneself to oneself.
 
 40 The Confessions of a Ctcrrency Girl. 
 
 to which father did not reply, but rising 
 from his chair began to pace rapidly up 
 and down the room, every now and again 
 stopping and staring out through the 
 window. At last he stood stock still and 
 faced us, and we all drew our breath 
 hard, knowing that something unusual 
 was coming. 
 
 *' It is time you knew, "Will," he said, 
 looking desperately serious even for him, 
 ** and I think, dear," he added, turning 
 to mother, '* that the other children are 
 old enough too.'' 
 
 Mother shook her head with a fright- 
 ened look and tried to speak, but the 
 effort only ended in a low sob. Harold 
 crept over to her and hid his face in her 
 breast, and I felt as though I should like 
 to do the same, but the spell being on me 
 I could not then have moved for the 
 world. Will dropped the pear he was 
 peeling and looked up into his father's 
 face in his own resolute way. 
 
 " You are good children all," father 
 began, '' and as such are worthy of the
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 41 
 
 highest honour. Think, then, how it must 
 pain me to be able only to dower you 
 with a heritage of shame." 
 
 '' Then it is true ? " gasped Will in- 
 credulously. *' You are a ." He 
 
 stopped, flushed, and then held down his 
 head. 
 
 " A convict ? " asked father, with a 
 queer smile. " Yes. But listen to me, 
 Will, and you, too, children, and remem- 
 ber what I say, for this subject must 
 never be broached again. Perhaps I 
 ought not to broach it now, but I think 
 I owe it to you, children, and, moreover, 
 I wish only to justify myself to you." 
 
 After speaking thus, he strode ner- 
 vously up and down the room for a 
 minute or two, then coming back to his 
 chair, and seating himself deliberately in 
 it, he unfolded, with a few swift touches, 
 the secret pages of his past. 
 
 ''It is neither my wish nor intention 
 to dwell on what I was, for the remem- 
 brance of what I was and what I ought 
 to be would but intensify my wretched-
 
 42 The Confessions of a Cuj^rency GU4, 
 
 ness. Yet you must know this, children, 
 for it may give you some small comfort 
 when the clods with whom you are sur- 
 rounded affect to despise you, that your 
 grandfather was the twelfth baronet of 
 our house, and that in your veins flows 
 blood as good — if we may reckon its 
 goodness by antiquity — as any in England. 
 This seems a vain and pitiful boast now, 
 but I have not forgotten that I was proud 
 of it once, nor do I pretend to forget that 
 it will add to your prestige in the eyes of 
 the world." 
 
 '' You never mentioned this before," 
 said Will. 
 
 " No, because — because when my dis- 
 grace came on me I bore another name, 
 and as in my trouble my family forsook 
 me, I took a solemn oath that no word of 
 them or theirs should ever pass my lips ; 
 and only now, when I see that by speak- 
 ing I may lighten your load a little, do 
 I venture to break it." 
 
 Will bowed his head without speaking, 
 while father, after passing his handker-
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 43 
 
 chief several times across his forehead, 
 continued, — 
 
 " Being the third and youngest son of 
 a not over-wealthy father, at no time 
 might my prospects have been considered 
 too encouraging, but I must confess with 
 shame that I was the principal instru- 
 ment to my own destruction. One folly 
 led to another, follies whose recapitula- 
 tion would prove of little profit, till at 
 last, driven desperate by my own strait- 
 ened circumstances, and the relentless 
 enmity of my people, I took the Queen's 
 shilling, not as Francis Lawrence Hast- 
 ings, but simply as Frank Lawrence. 
 You see, I had pride enough to shield 
 them even when my heart was hot with 
 anger. 
 
 '' Well, things went on smoothly 
 enough, if one may call the life of a pri- 
 vate soldier smooth, till a certain Captain 
 Hawkes, a gentleman whom I had known 
 in other days, joined our regiment." 
 Here I saw mother hide her quivering 
 lips in Harold's hair. " This man," con-
 
 44 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 tinned father, " a pompous upstart, had 
 been an unsuccessful suitor for the affec- 
 tions of your mother, and, rightly or 
 wrongly, he deemed me the cause of his 
 failure. For a long time, however, I 
 escaped recognition by him, but at last 
 the time did come — though, for his own 
 ends, he never acknowledged the recog- 
 nition — and then my martyrdom began. 
 
 " I will not weary you, or anger myself, 
 by recounting the numerous insults to 
 which I was subjected by that man, the 
 countless petty indignities which were 
 thrust upon me, and all, too, with his 
 tongue in his cheek, as it were, for never 
 once did he admit to having pierced my 
 identity. But at last the climax came. 
 One day on parade he called me that 
 which no man of spirit could bear un- 
 moved, because it is an insult to his 
 mother's memory. My blood, never too 
 well under control, boiled up and I 
 answered him back. White with anger 
 he rode up to me, and, before I had any 
 suspicion of his intention, cut me across
 
 The Confessions of a Ctirrency Girl, 45 
 
 the face with his whip. In a moment I 
 was a raging madman. The memory of 
 all the wrongs I had suffered at this 
 man's hand inspired me with frenzy. 
 I stepped out from the line, and, swinging 
 my rifle, brought it across his head and 
 knocked him senseless from the saddle. 
 
 " For a long time he hovered between 
 life and death, but he did not die, and so 
 I escaped the death penalty. As Frank 
 Lawrence — for until I was convicted did 
 he guard my secret — I was tried for 
 attempted murder, found guilty, and 
 sentenced to ten years' transportation. 
 Of my life here I need not speak. You 
 know all that is necessary to know. In 
 the due course of time she who had been 
 faithful to me through all my follies and 
 my bitter banishment came out to join 
 me. Your mother, children, was that 
 woman, the sweetest, noblest creature 
 that God ever gave to man." And speaking 
 thus, he arose, and went over to her, and 
 put his arms about her neck and kissed 
 her; and she, poor soul,began to sob loudly,
 
 46 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 and Harold and I joined in, and I am not 
 certain that father's eyes were not like- 
 wise running over with tears, only my own 
 were so dim that I could not see clearly. 
 
 Will had abandoned his pear, the poor 
 boy's heart being too full of grief to eat, 
 and after a great struggle to keep down 
 the emotion which was bubbling to his 
 lips, he said, " I am glad you have told 
 me, father. I only wish I had known 
 before. I was afraid you had done some- 
 thing wrong." 
 
 «« Wrong ! " echoed father with a 
 curious laugh. " They don't usually give 
 a man ten years for doing something 
 good. But I understand you. Will. I 
 was never a rogue." 
 
 " Thank Glod," said his son, and rising 
 left the room. 
 
 So this was the secret of father's life. 
 This accounted for the innumerable 
 strange, sometimes pitying, looks which 
 greeted me on every hand, the whispered 
 broken sentences which so often reached 
 my ears — " currency people," '' sent out,
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 47 
 
 jou know," " what a pity," etc. So I was 
 really a convict's daughter ; I possessed 
 the overwhelming convict taint. Hence- 
 forth I was to be the scorn of all the 
 more favoured mortals ; no matter what 
 I might be, or what I might do, that one 
 word '' convict " would overshadow all ; 
 for to us Australians — I was going to say 
 free Australians — there is no taint «o 
 terrible as that of transportation, no 
 crime so black as that of belonging to 
 that unhappy class, and though things 
 are changing a bit now, the old preju- 
 dices die hard. They tell me that the 
 racial hatred in the United States of 
 America borders on the intense. It must 
 be something like our terror and hatred 
 of the convict. Father a convict ! It 
 seemed impossible. He, with his gentle 
 ways, his noble face, his ever kindly eyes. 
 He, a convict — one of those creatures 
 whom I, and most like me, had always 
 regarded as a set of monsters little 
 inferior in iniquity to the denizens of the 
 pit. Yet from his own lips had come the
 
 48 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 words : there was no gainsaying them. 
 We, like the Jew of old, were cursed, and 
 would wander on and on seeking peace 
 and never finding it. 
 
 That evening as Will and I were seated 
 in the old summer-house at the bottom of 
 the garden, talking over the new terror 
 which had fallen upon us, we heard the 
 click, click of Harold's crutches coming 
 down the path, and, lest he should dis- 
 cover our weakness, I hurriedly dried my 
 eyes, while old Will stood up to pluck a 
 rose, whistling dolefully as he did so. In 
 a moment the boy had hobbled to the 
 entrance where he stood looking at us, a 
 strange light beaming in his big eyes. 
 Then he came into the house and sat 
 himself beside me. 
 
 " Sis," he said tenderly, laying his 
 hand on mine, *' you are crying? " 
 
 " What nonsense ! " I answered, trying 
 to look indignant, though my spirit sank 
 and my eyes grew dimmer as I watched 
 him. 
 
 *' Of course it is," he said with a
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 49 
 
 strange laugli, '' ask old Will there, who 
 looks as bad as you." 
 
 '' Well," said Will, owning up like the 
 man that he was, " I confess that it has 
 knocked me a bit silly, old boy. I 
 couldn't, couldn't think that father had 
 ever done anything wrong." 
 
 '' Wrong ! " echoed Harold excitedly, 
 his pale face flushing hotly, " do you c^ll 
 it wrong to do as father did ? I don't, 
 then. If I had been in his place I would 
 have killed that dog of an officer." And 
 he brought his crutch down upon the floor 
 with a tremendous bang. 
 
 " Well, you can't say the old man 
 never tried his best," said Will with a 
 grim smile. '' JSTot that I blame him — 
 don't think that. I'd have done the same 
 in his case — perhaps more — but it won't 
 make any difference to us, will it ? " 
 
 " But why should it make any differ- 
 ence to us ? " asked Harold. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Will with a sigh, " you 
 have not gone about as I have ; you 
 don't know what they think of convicts." 
 
 VOL. 1. E
 
 50 The Confessions of a CtivTency Girl. 
 
 " But I have read enough of them," 
 was the reply, '' and very foolish charac- 
 ters they seemed ; as absurdly ferocious 
 as the wicked giant in a fairy tale. Why, 
 I have laughed over them by the hour. 
 Surely no one in his senses would 
 believe in such a class ? " 
 
 *'If they do not," answered Will, 
 *' they will pretend they do, if only to 
 annoy the likes of us." 
 
 Harold began to look serious. 
 
 '' Do you really think," he asked, 
 ** that they will look down on us because 
 father defended himself like a man ? " 
 
 '' They won't stay to think of that. 
 We are currency people, Harry. They'll 
 never get beyond that, my boy." 
 
 *' But we need not necessarily be bad 
 on that account." 
 
 *' You do not understand this generous, 
 Christian world," said old Will, and I 
 never recollect his voice sounding more 
 bitter. '' It is not content with the tor- 
 turing of the parent. Its Bible teaches 
 it that the sins of the fathers shall be
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 5 1 
 
 visited upon tlie children, and it takijs 
 good care not to forget the teaching." 
 
 '' But we have done nothing wrong,'* 
 said Harold. '' It is not fair that we 
 should suffer." 
 
 " Fair ! " echoed Will, with a growl of 
 disgust. " You don't want much, do 
 you?" 
 
 " Only justice. Will." 
 
 *' Then you may get it in the next 
 world, Harry, old boy, but never in this. 
 A queer go, isn't it ? What do you think 
 of it?" 
 
 '' I hardly know," replied Harold in a 
 low voice, '' but I think you must be mis- 
 taken, Will, because such selfishness and 
 injustice cannot be universal." 
 
 **0h, isn't it, though?" was the 
 dogged reply. 
 
 *' I would rather believe not," said the 
 boy, " indeed I would. How can they 
 think ill of us when we have done 
 nothing to merit their censure ? To me 
 it seems like going against reason." 
 
 " And is," says Will, '' and against 
 E 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINO
 
 52 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 justice too ; but it goes on all tlie 
 
 same." 
 
 " I can even understand tliem looking 
 askance at father," continued tlie boy, as 
 if oblivious of Will's remark, "because, 
 rightly or wrongly, he has been crimi- 
 nally punished by the laws of his country, 
 but what have we done that we too 
 should be looked upon as outcasts ? " 
 
 ** We are his children, Harry, and a 
 bad tree cannot bring forth good fruit." 
 
 " But is he a bad tree, Will ? " 
 
 *' According to law." 
 
 ** But not to knowledge or reason. 
 And is his fruit bad ? I think not. 
 You are a good fellow. Will ; who can 
 deny that ? — and I am sure there is not a 
 better girl in the colony than Flos. As 
 for me," he added, in a choking voice, 
 *' surely no one could be envious of me ? 
 Grod has punished me enough already." 
 
 " Too much, poor little Harry. Never 
 mind, old fellow," continued Will, putting 
 one arm lovingly round the boy's neck 
 '* you'll have a glorious revenge yet.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 53 
 
 Wait, wait till the world is eclioing your 
 name, and greeting you as the first great 
 Australian poet." 
 
 '' Fm afraid it is only a dream, Will," 
 said the poor boy, who for a moment had 
 flushed at his brother's words. " How 
 can a wretched little cripple, a currency 
 boy to boot, ever hope to make a great 
 and honourable name ? " 
 
 " Why not, if he has the brain ? " 
 
 '' Ah ! " sighed Harold, " if he has the 
 brain." 
 
 " Which you have, dear," I said. 
 *' Remember, you are only a boy yet. 
 You cannot do great things till you are a 
 man." 
 
 " Then I shall never do them," he said. 
 There was something so profoundly 
 touching in his voice that I felt my heart 
 rise almost to bursting. I had to turn 
 aside to let the tears fall unobserved. 
 
 " What are you crying for ? " he asked, 
 slipping his thin white hand into mine. 
 *' I don't mean that I shan't live. Sis, 
 though I sometimes think that it would
 
 54 The Confessions of a Cttrrency Girl, 
 
 be better for me if I were to die. It would 
 be kinder, anyway, for I don't tbink that 
 I sball ever be proud again." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Will roughly, though 
 he too held his face away, and stood 
 looking out across the rapidly darkening 
 plains, " why shouldn't you ? Haven't 
 you got brains, and isn't that the grandest 
 thing a man can possibly have ? None of 
 your common cleverness either, but the 
 real thing, Harry. Why, in a few years 
 all Australia will be singing your praises. 
 Who will care a rap then whether you are 
 a currency boy or a prince's son ? Work, 
 hope, and never let yourself be daunted. 
 It is a fight between you and the world. 
 Tf you won't give way, it will." 
 
 " But you are very strong," said Harold. 
 ** What am I ? " 
 
 " If it were a mere matter of physical 
 strength," said Will, "I should have my 
 doubts, but happily it is not. Once get 
 the ear of the public, and though you 
 were a chimney sweep they would applaud 
 you. The few will always decry — for
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 55 
 
 nothing enrages the unsuccessful like the 
 success of others — but the many will up- 
 hold ; that is how men have lived down 
 the opposition of powerful cliques. Go 
 on, Harold, think and work ; write and 
 write again, and if you win, your prize 
 will be the greatest earth can give." 
 
 Dear old Will ! I never thought he 
 had it in him, but he had read a good 
 deal, and I shrewdly suspect that he had 
 listened well to father and Mr. Lang- 
 ton, who talked very deeply at times. 
 Anyway, he soothed poor Harold's sorrows 
 and filled him again with hope, and when 
 we all three returned to the house, some 
 half -hour later, we seemed to have already 
 left half our trouble behind.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The next day Arthur and Ella Wallace 
 rode over from Wallan, and tliongh the 
 society of my only friend should have 
 proved most agreeable to me at that 
 period, I was yet conscious of a certain 
 restraint in her presence, which did not 
 escape her prying eyes. She would insist 
 upon my being ill, and as I had to prove to 
 her that I was not, I recollect assuming 
 an unusual gaiety and expressing a more 
 than usual affection. The fact is, I was 
 really nervous before her, for whenever 
 she looked at me with those earnest eyes 
 of hers, she seemed to read my heart, and 
 that, in its present state, was precisely 
 what I shrank from opening. Yet 
 how I longed to do so, and would 
 have done had not fear held me back.
 
 The Confessions of a Ctirrency Girl, 57 
 
 thougli I could not doubt the genuineness 
 of her affection. We had grown up as 
 sisters, having no other sister. If I was 
 not staying at Wallan she was with us at 
 Granite Creek, and we used to say that, 
 like our mothers, we would be friends 
 through life, and through death too, if 
 such a thing were possible. She was a 
 girl of my own age ; we had similar likes 
 and dislikes. I knew that she was 
 devotedly attached to me, and I shrewdly 
 suspected that she was not an indifferent 
 admirer of Will. Whatever there was in 
 the past I felt sure she would ignore, 
 doubting not that she would still cling 
 to me, though in my veins ran the criminal 
 blood of all the world. A fig for your 
 fairweather friend, say I ! Give me the 
 one who will stand by you in your darkest 
 days, when evil tongues whisper, and eyes 
 are upturned in righteous horror ; who, 
 knowing your virtues (for had you none 
 he would never have loved you), tries to 
 understand your vices ; who puts himself 
 in your place and strives to think what
 
 58 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 he would do under like conditions. This 
 is the man jou will never lose, if you have 
 any good in you ; for when he thinks, he 
 sees and understands. Only the worst of 
 it is so few people can think, or will take 
 the trouble to learn. 
 
 Before the "Wallaces left that after- 
 noon Will approached me looking rather 
 serious. 
 
 " I've been thinking it out, Flos,'' he 
 said, " and I have come to the conclusion 
 that it is better to get it over." 
 
 " Get it over," I repeated, simulating 
 ignorance of his meaning ; " get what 
 over?" 
 
 ''You know well enough," he replied 
 almost fiercely ; " this convict business. 
 I've been skulking about the whole blessed 
 day like a real criminal. I don't know 
 what Arthur '11 think of me, poor old 
 chap. He's a good, simple fellow, Flos. 
 I hope you'll make it up one day." 
 
 '' Don't talk nonsense, Will." 
 
 '' ISTonsense," he echoed ; " where is the 
 nonsense? "
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 59 
 
 " I do not want to marry. I shall never 
 marry. '^ 
 
 He laughed. " So all young girls say, 
 but, you know, they have been known to 
 change their minds/' 
 
 '' I shall not change mine. Even if I 
 had the wish, who is there that would 
 marry me ? " 
 
 " You ! " he exclaimed, in a tone of 
 astonishment. " Why, thousands, to be 
 sure, and only glad of the chance." 
 
 " A currency girl ? " I added bitterly. 
 
 *' The sweetest girl in the country," he 
 said tenderly, his defiant eyes growing 
 wonderfully soft as he looked into my 
 face. And then he put his arm about me 
 and kissed me, and told me that he was 
 only afraid there was no one in the 
 country half good enough for me. 
 
 Dear old Will ! I know it was your 
 true love that proved my angel in the 
 days that were to come. 
 
 " I am sure Arthur knows there is 
 something up," he went on, after he had 
 finished singing my praises, " and I think,
 
 6o The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 dear, tliat we had better make a clean 
 breast of it — tell them all there is to be 
 told. If Arthur is what I take him to be 
 he will respect and like us all the better 
 for our confidence. If it's the other way 
 about, well, let him go. It will be 
 another illusion shattered, that's all, 
 and we shall not miss much in losing 
 him." 
 
 '' I am sure you wrong him, Will. It 
 would make no difference to him, nor 
 Ella either, whatever we might be, or 
 whatever father had done." 
 
 " I am one with you there," he replied, 
 " but we shall see." 
 
 Later on Will and I walked part of the 
 way back with the Wallaces, he leading 
 Ella's horse and Arthur his own. We 
 walked on very solemnly for a long 
 time, till Arthur suddenly burst out 
 laughing. 
 
 '' Well, I'm hanged if we're not as 
 solemn as a funeral," cried he. '' What's 
 up with you. Will, old man ? " 
 
 Will, being thus bluntly appealed to,
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 6i 
 
 looked at him earnestly, and then at Ella 
 and me. I nodded encouragingly. 
 
 " Look here, old chap," he said, and I 
 thought his voice sounded very strange, 
 " something is up. You'd look serious, 
 too, if you were in my shoes. Not that 
 I wish you were, Arthur — God for- 
 bid ! " 
 
 " You have had a hard knock, old 
 man ? " said Arthur in a low voice. 
 
 "Yes," said Will, "a clean knock- 
 down, old fellow ; but not, I hope, a 
 knock-out.'' 
 
 Then he told our secret exactly as 
 father had told it to us. 
 
 " So you see," he added, " we are con- 
 victs — yes, convicts — why should I shirk 
 the word ? I won't pretend to say that 
 I'm not glad father was no criminal, 
 neither shall I attempt to justify his 
 actions. I only know that I would have 
 done the same. So much for the man. 
 As for this thing, this brand which Flos 
 and Harold and I shall bear to our graves 
 — this convict mark upon our foreheads —
 
 62 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 I tell you candidly, Arthur, I'm afraid of 
 it. What matters it to the world that my 
 father is incapable of crime, is he not, in 
 its view, a criminal of the most atrocious 
 nature — a denizen of Botany Bay ? Why 
 Botany Bay should be worse than Pent- 
 ridge, or any other prison, I leave the 
 wise ones to expound. To me there 
 is no difference. But perhaps I own a 
 bias. I know that it is so, however, and 
 that I shall carry about with me a secret 
 which will make my life one long torment. 
 I shall shudder at the name of convict, 
 and turn white at the sound of Botany 
 Bay. I know that henceforth I shall 
 be an outcast, and a coward on that 
 account." 
 
 " Never a coward. Will," said Arthur, 
 taking his hand, " and never an outcast 
 either while I and mine have a roof above 
 us." 
 
 Poor old Will shook his friend's hand 
 without speaking. Then he said in a 
 quivering voice, " That's good of you, 
 Arthur. I thought — forgive me, won't
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 63 
 
 you — that you too might turn on us when 
 you knew what we were." 
 
 " Could you think so badly of us ? " 
 said Ella, who had not spoken be- 
 fore. 
 
 " No," said Will, ** I could not, in my 
 heart of hearts. I tried to be hard, that 
 was all ; to prepare myself for anything. 
 It has been a great effort to tell you both, 
 but now I'm glad you know." 
 
 " My dear old Will," cried Arthur, " we 
 have known all about it this many a day. 
 Long before you did, it seems. But there, 
 there, it makes no difference to us. Let 
 us hear no more of it. It is not an agree- 
 able subject, so why shouldn't we drop it, 
 now and for ever ? Any fellow who thinks 
 the less of you for it is a cur and beneath 
 your notice. Of one thing you may be 
 sure — no one shall twice speak ill of you 
 in my presence." 
 
 *' Thank you," said W^ill, once more 
 shaking his friend's hand. *' You are the 
 same good fellow I always believed you 
 to be. You give a chap new hope."
 
 64 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 "And you?" cried Arthur, looking 
 liard at me. 
 
 '* Oh, I shall exist at Granite Creek," 
 I answered. '* Ella and I have made up 
 our minds to live and die in single- 
 blessedness." 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " said he. " You 
 would never be so selfish ? " 
 
 " I can't answer for Ella, of course. 
 She may be weak enough to succumb to 
 the attractions of some male charmer, but 
 I, never." 
 
 " I hope you will let me come and see 
 you sometimes ? " 
 
 " Well, if you pass your examinations 
 successfully," said I, alluding to his study 
 of medicine — for it was intended that he 
 should become a disciple of ^sculapius — 
 " I'll send over for you occasionally to 
 come and doctor our sick cats — for of 
 course we shall have lots of cats, like true 
 old maids." 
 
 '' I shall feel honoured," he replied 
 gravely. 
 
 Why," said I, '' you have the pro-
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 65 
 
 fessional tone already," and I somewhat 
 flippantly imitated him, 
 
 '* I am practising," he replied without 
 a smile. 
 
 " Though not yet in practice ? " 
 " Precisely." 
 
 That was the worst of Arthur ; he was 
 always so grave, so very much in earnest. 
 If he looked at you, there was a serious- 
 ness in his looks which, at times, was 
 absolutely unpleasant. You could not be 
 frivolous with such a man. Everything 
 he said he meant, and being utterly de- 
 void of commonplace tittle-tattle, he was 
 oftener silent than otherwise. Now this 
 may be an excellent trait in a man — for 
 is it not Solomon himself who tells us that 
 silence is golden ? — especially in the com- 
 pany of men, whom we will suppose have 
 a smattering of knowledge. But it is 
 absolutely necessary, for his own advance- 
 ment in our good opinion, that a young 
 man of these days should be able to play 
 the fool occasionally — no very great effort 
 being required in most cases. Girls, as a 
 VOL. I. ■£
 
 66 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 rule, do not like a serious man, although 
 they think they do. I half suspect they 
 imagine him to be continually searching 
 their inmost heart and analyzing their 
 every motive. What a monster, to be 
 sure ! Conceive a man prying in behind 
 this barrier of bone which shields that 
 mystic matter which we call our brain, 
 reading our every thought, and compre- 
 hending our unuttered desires ! Or con- 
 ceive him gloating like a demon over 
 our captured heart as it writhes beneath 
 his microscope, telling of the stains and 
 waves of blood which go to make up the 
 sum and passion of our life ! "Who is to 
 be safe with men like this let loose ? We 
 know well that we are all better than our 
 neighbours, and yet even we have some 
 things by us which we would not care to 
 show. 
 
 Woman, to whom custom has refused 
 to grant that freedom of discourse so 
 arbitrarily claimed by man, has conse- 
 quently many more secrets to guard : she 
 is, in fact, a storehouse of secrets, a
 
 The Confessions of a Citrrency Gij^L 67 
 
 cushion pricked all over with invisible pin 
 points of hopes, and fears, and desires. 
 Therefore, how necessary is it to preserve 
 the outward gloss ! But should you chance 
 to tear aside that satin binding which 
 looks so fair, you will see the centre, or 
 heart, transfixed with innumerable impres- 
 sions bubbling blood of many colours. 
 Not all black, thank heaven, but just 
 enough to make us wish to keep the cover 
 on. Now, as we detest the microscope, 
 so do we the prying eyes of the inquisitive. 
 Humanity is an easier book to read than 
 dullards imagine, but ifc is a perverse book 
 and resents the magnifying glass person- 
 ally, though it always makes use of it 
 to look at a brother or sister. The 
 worldling will let a woman think he 
 believes her to be all that she pretends ; 
 he is wise. She too, is not without her 
 cunning, and fools him to the top of his 
 bent — a task of infantine ease. But what 
 she cannot tolerate is your superior sort 
 of person who looks at her with steady, 
 earnest eyes, eyes which seem to look 
 F 2
 
 6S The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 tlirougli hers and penetrate the secret 
 chambers of her brain. There is some- 
 thing offensive in this person. He will 
 not take her at her own valuation. 
 
 Not that poor old Arthur was such a 
 dreadful creature as this. It is true he 
 was always very earnest, and, for a young 
 man, singularly reticent, but more open, 
 honest eyes, I do not think I ever saw. 
 The only fault about them was their 
 almost inhuman steadiness, a fault, I 
 grant you, which some people of our 
 acquaintance would give much to own. 
 In short, he was not fool enough ever to 
 be popular. He would have been irresist- 
 ible to ladies over thirty. Such a man 
 was first cousin to the Sphinx. Your 
 purse, honour, life itself would have been 
 safe in his keeping. But to girls who 
 are " green in judgment " such men are 
 extremely trying. I liked Arthur well 
 enough, I always thoroughly believed in 
 him ; to me he seemed quite different 
 from the generality of boys, but at the 
 same time there is no denying that I did
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 69 
 
 think him just a little slow. Was he not 
 also as ignorant of the world as I, and 
 could I possibly look up to anyone whose 
 knowledge was no greater than my own ? 
 Then again, though always respectful, 
 and, when I come to think over it, even 
 courteous at times, the poor fellow was 
 sadly lacking in the glorious attribute of 
 style. This is an essential for woman- 
 worship, and I'm afraid our embryo 
 doctor was at a sad disadvantage in con- 
 sequence. Will called it " side,'* but I 
 knew better. Moreover, a vain girl cannot 
 be expected to recognize her hero in 
 one whom she heard described as the 
 " clumsiest owl in Wallan." It rather 
 takes the pride out of her, even though 
 she has only a sneaking regard for the 
 said owl. 
 
 We walked with Arthur and Ella a 
 good mile from the homestead, repeating 
 over and over again solemn vows of 
 eternal friendship. For good or ill we 
 swore allegiance ; let what might ensue, 
 nothing should ever come between us.
 
 yo The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 " There," said Will, as the Wallaces 
 mounted their horses and cantered off 
 along the dusty road, '' there go two of 
 the best people in the world." 
 
 '* Yes," I said, ''two of the best people 
 in the world." He looked at me quickly, 
 but seeing I was serious marched on in 
 silence. 
 
 " What do you think of her ? " he 
 asked, when we had traversed some hun- 
 dred yards or so. 
 
 '' What have I always thought of 
 her?" 
 
 " Of course," he answered with an 
 awkward laugh. *' I should have asked 
 you what you thought of /im." 
 
 ''And I should have replied what 
 business that is of yours." 
 
 " Hoity-toity," says he, " how we flare 
 out, just as if there was something in it." 
 
 Though I could see he only wanted to 
 tease me, I yet grew mightily indignant, 
 for there was more truth in his insinua- 
 tions than I liked to own. Yet what 
 brother ever cared for his sister's indig-
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 7 1 
 
 nation ? Indeed, lie does not seem to 
 think that sisters have a right to grow 
 indignant. It is a thing beyond him ; 
 equally as much so as the fact that his 
 sister is like other women, no better, no 
 worse. This seems a preposterous idea, 
 and takes him a long while to grasp — if he 
 ever does. I am not certain that there 
 isn't a shade of sacrilege in the thought. 
 Will says there is, but then he was very 
 fond of me, and in his fondness forgot 
 my human frailties. It is a beautiful 
 thing though, this reverence of the sister. 
 Think of it, ye girls who have disagree- 
 able brothers. How do you know but 
 that in their heart of hearts they may 
 think the best of men unworthy of you ? 
 And how do ye try to live up to their 
 standard, my sisters ? When the 
 temptation comes, do ye ever stay to con- 
 sider that ye may cast an everlasting slur 
 on one who loves like unto God Himself ? 
 As we continued our journey through 
 the paddock, the one before the rails of 
 which Will had annihilated the power of
 
 72 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 tliat little monster, Patsy Dillon, we were 
 overtg^ken by Mr. Langton, who, as was 
 his wont, pulled up his horse and gave us 
 the time of the day. 
 
 '' Homeward bound, children ? " he 
 asked, after the usual salutations had 
 passed. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Will, touching his 
 hat, for everybody was extremely civil to 
 Mr. Langton, not so much, I think, on 
 account of his wealth, which was reputed 
 boundless, as of himself; for he was a 
 genuine man, a gentleman to his finger- 
 tips, as father used to say, though those 
 tips might have broadened a little 
 through hard work. For he had done 
 his share of toil like the rest of us, and 
 by his own skill and industry had built 
 ap Langton Station, one of the finest 
 estates in that part of the country. It 
 was of him father rented the five hundred 
 odd acres known as Granite Creek, for he 
 and dad had been schoolfellows, com- 
 panions, in the Old Country, and he was 
 not one to kick a man who was down.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL y2> 
 
 *' You did wrong, from a practical, 
 sensible point of view," said he, when 
 father had finished his story, " but you 
 did what nine out of every ten men would 
 have done. I haven't forgotten old times, 
 Hastings, so you must throw in your lot 
 with me." And so father, who had some 
 practical knowledge of farming, took up 
 his selection on Granite Creek; and therfe 
 he built our house, and round it planted 
 the roses and the grape vines, and the 
 beautiful English trees with their dense 
 foliage, through which even the fiercest 
 sun failed to pierce. In three years he 
 transformed the sterile track through 
 which the little creek ran into a minia- 
 ture Eden, and then, having some money 
 by him, he sent to England for mother, 
 who had corresponded with him all the 
 time. 
 
 " First and foremost," wrote he, " I 
 must let you know what you have to 
 expect should you determine to join me. 
 I am a convict, never forget that. The 
 crime I committed is one for which I do
 
 74 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 not grieve, but it has brought a punish- 
 ment you can little imagine. I will not 
 say that I am altogether an outcast, but 
 even here, in this free country, where so 
 many of my class are at large, the an- 
 tipathy against us is so overwhelming 
 that I and mine must ever be subjected 
 to unceasing humiliation. On the other 
 hand, dear," and here mother has often 
 told me the paper was so blotted with 
 tears that she could scarcely decipher the 
 writing, '' if you are brave enough to risk 
 all this, if you think that you can find 
 contentment with me, and happiness in 
 seeing me happy, come, and if a life's 
 
 devotion can recompense you " 
 
 Well, well, it's a sad romance, isn't it ? 
 Who would think that that grave-eyed 
 man who bends unceasingly at his toil 
 from morning to night, content to see 
 his wife and children about him, repining 
 not for the lost days, wishing no other 
 life, had suffered so much, so much ? Or 
 who would imagine that that tender, 
 grey-haired woman, with her pale, sweet
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GwL 75 
 
 face, had ever possessed suflScient courage 
 to face the dreadful, shameful life in the 
 new land ? Ah, me, the days of martyrs 
 and heroes are not yet passed. 
 
 Quiet, and yet so courageous ; going 
 about with her sweet sad smile and her 
 soft words — what a woman was here ! 
 I know she keenly felt her position, and 
 I understand now why she preferred the 
 peace and solitude of her own home to 
 the rush of the outside world. But her 
 face was sad, oh, so dreadfully sad, and 
 when she smiled she was saddest of all. 
 Yet there was with all her quiet dignity 
 a force of character which told of a 
 courage equal to her love. That might, 
 perhaps, be taken for granted, consider- 
 ing all that she had done. Yet I remem- 
 ber one dark winter's night when she 
 proved herself possessed of the courage 
 of a hero as well as the devotion of a 
 saint. Father was away from home that 
 week with some cattle which he had 
 taken to the Boorta Show, and about 
 twelve o'clock one night we were all
 
 76 The Confessions of a Ctirrency Girl, 
 
 awakened by the violent barking of the 
 dogs. I remember how we all rushed to 
 mother's room, Harold and I clinging to 
 her, Will standing by her side with a 
 half-defiant, half -frightened look on hia 
 little pale face. We could distinctly hear 
 the tramp of the robbers on the verandah. 
 Now they were trying the door, now the 
 windows ; but they were evidently novices 
 at the business, for they did not succeed 
 in effecting an entrance. And all the 
 while we clung to mother, moaning 
 piteously, while she alternately took us 
 in her arms or patted our heads, 
 telling us in a low trembling voice not 
 to be afraid, for that God was watching, 
 and He would protect us. 
 
 At last the men began to knock at the 
 door, and still we stirred not. Mean- 
 while the barking of the dogs grew 
 louder and angrier. We heard one of the 
 men utter a furious exclamation. Then 
 a shot followed and poor old Ponto went 
 off howlin*g. 
 
 This seemed to waken mother from the
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, yy 
 
 lethargy into which she had fallen. We 
 were in an isolated position — a mile at 
 least from any other house. On ourselves 
 must depend our salvation. Mother, 
 kissing us, whispered us to remain quiet, 
 and then silently quitted the room, fol- 
 lowed by Will. The half minute of their 
 absence seemed like an eternity, but 
 when they returned I saw that she had 
 been to the kitchen, for she now held 
 father's gun in her hand, a weapon 
 which had always hung above the kitchen 
 mantelpiece. Poor little Will was by her 
 side, the kitchen poker grasped firmly in 
 his little hand. The lion's cub, you see, 
 had something of the lion's spirit. 
 
 By this time the knocking on the door 
 grew louder, and mother, fearing they 
 would ultimately break it in, called out, 
 *' Who's there ? " 
 
 *' A friend," was the reply. 
 
 " No friend would call as you have at 
 such an hour as this," answered mother. 
 
 " Friend or not, old woman," said the 
 yoice, " you'd better open the door pretty
 
 yS The Co7tfessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 quick, or I'll break it in." And as if to 
 give US a foretaste of his intentions, the 
 owner of the voice delivered sundry 
 heavy kicks on the panels which made 
 them creak. 
 
 " Frank," cried mother, pretending 
 father was in, " you are wanted outside." 
 
 At this the two men laughed loudly. 
 
 " Very good, missis," cried the voice 
 derisively, *' but we happen to know that 
 the old bird's at Boorta. So open the 
 door and have done with this nonsense. 
 It'll be the worse for you if you don't.'* 
 
 "I will not open the door," answered 
 mother, and her voice had grown so hard 
 that I scarcely recognized it ; " and 
 what's more, I am armed, and I'll shoot 
 the first man who enters the house." 
 
 Well, they didn't attempt to enter. 
 They growled and threatened much, and 
 swore more, and when they were leaving 
 fired several bullets through our windows ; 
 but beyond that they did no harm, and 
 after waiting for quite half an hour to 
 make sure that they were gone, we all
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 79 
 
 knelt by motlier's bed and mingled our 
 sobs with her prayers. I shall never for- 
 get that night. The brave, sweet woman, 
 the sturdy little son ; the wild night 
 without, and the wilder men. She who 
 would not, under ordinary circumstances, 
 have raised her hand against the meanest 
 of God's creatures, would have fought 
 that night, ay, and killed too, ere harm 
 should befall her little ones. And Will, 
 with the kitchen poker in his poor little 
 hands — a very David, forsooth, an 
 infant Titan ! Whenever I think of that 
 night I always murmur Campbell's beauti- 
 ful thought, — 
 
 " A noble mother must have bred 
 So brave a son."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Langton, whom I have 
 most shamefully neglected all this time, 
 walked on beside us, chatting in his 
 genial, cheery way — he being very fond 
 of us children — till we approached our 
 house and he beheld father's form in the 
 distance. Then, shaking his horse up a 
 bit, he trotted on ahead, and we watched 
 him ride up to father, dismount, make 
 his horse fast to a rail, and then go up 
 on the verandah. 
 
 " Come over for a yarn," said Will. 
 ** Strange that he should take the trouble 
 to ride over for the express purpose of 
 talking with the old man." Will some- 
 times used this rather vulgar appellation 
 in speaking of father ; but as I knew he
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 8i 
 
 meant nothing disrespectful by such 
 familiarity, I cannot say I ever resented 
 it. 
 
 "ISTot so strange either," I replied, 
 " since they suit each other and have 
 tastes in common." 
 
 '* A currency man, you know," sug- 
 gested he. 
 
 " But a gentleman, too, Will, and* 
 therefore the equal of Mr. Langton, and 
 the superior of nine-tenths of the people 
 hereabouts." I am afraid the modesty 
 of this speech is not too apparent, but 
 when your case is not a particularly 
 good one, a little braggadocio may be 
 permissible. 
 
 . '' Yes," said Will, not wishing, as I 
 could see, to dispute the point. 
 
 And yet a child may surely be excused 
 for extracting every ounce of consola- 
 tion from the prestige of its parent? 
 And father was a man who must have 
 commanded respect even under the most 
 disadvantageous of circumstances. I 
 have often heard Mr. Langton declare 
 
 VOL. T. G
 
 82 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 tliat lie was the only man in the district 
 to whom it was a pleasure to speak, and 
 that it was a lucky day for him when 
 Hastings came to Grranite Creek. And 
 how they did talk, to be sure, upon every 
 known subject it seemed to me, bandying 
 the names of the great classic writers 
 with a freedom which showed consider- 
 able familiarity with those worthies. 
 Science, poetry, philosophy — there was 
 no subject upon which they did not 
 linger and upon which they did not dis- 
 agree. This, of course, proved the very 
 fuel of their argumentative fire, and if at 
 times they piled on a little too much of 
 it and the flames spouted up rather omi- 
 nously, they always burnt low again with 
 inconceivable rapidity. Both men had 
 excellent tempers well under control, and 
 understood that argument was applied to 
 argument, not man to man. This is a 
 thing over which many people blunder. 
 They identify themselves with their 
 argument, and in consequence look upon 
 the destruction of one as the annihilation
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, Z^i^ 
 
 of the other. Such people live a life of 
 tumult and die despised. 
 
 To Harold these conversations were 
 school, college and university all in one. 
 A training so unique no small boy ever 
 had. For hours he would sit, curled up 
 in his low chair, his eyes fixed intently 
 upon the face of the speakers, his ears 
 taking in every word. And Mr. Langtbn 
 grew to like and admire the boy, and 
 often, in the middle of his hottest argu- 
 ments, he would turn from father to 
 the attentive lad appealingly, "Now 
 what is your opinion, Harold ? " At 
 which poor Harold, overwhelmed with 
 confusion, would blush most painfully 
 and confess his ignorance with a stam- 
 mering tongue. But Mr. Langton was 
 wont to declare that there was much 
 more in the boy than the superficial 
 glance took in. He knew of Harold's 
 hopes and ambitions, and did all within 
 his power to foster his love of study. 
 Books on every conceivable topic he sent 
 over for the delectation of the rising 
 G 2
 
 84 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 poet, though volumes of verse, travel 
 and biography were the boy's especial 
 delight. 
 
 ** We shall make a poet of you, Harold, 
 never fear," the squatter one day said, 
 after having duly perused one of the poor 
 boy's effusions. " I won't say these 
 verses are perfect. Candidly, my lad, 
 they are not; your poet does not grow 
 like a gooseberry. But you have form 
 and style, and you are imitating good 
 models. By-and-by you will not imitate 
 at all ; then you will be a real 
 poet." 
 
 " But is it not impossible not to imitate 
 somebody," asked the boy, '' when the 
 writing of poetry is confined to certain 
 rules?" 
 
 '' Only in the form of the verse," was 
 the reply, '' though Whitman, the Ameri- 
 can poet, has even despised that. Thought 
 and expression you may cultivate. Rhyme 
 only is really arbitrary, but it, being 
 mechanical, is easily conquered. Why, 
 you don't want even an ear for it. As
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 85 
 
 for imitation," lie went on, '* I should let 
 that concern me little, for I hold that 
 every man is original ; that no two men 
 write alike, that, moreover, to do so is 
 an utter impossibility. So-and-so has a 
 few pronounced characteristics which he 
 employs, well knowing their value. They 
 are mere pyrotechnic displays of intellect 
 shot out to enthral the shallow ; flaSh 
 squibs of thought which startle you for 
 the moment. They are but another form 
 of Vanity, as the Preacher would say. 
 You will find the wisdom they illumine as 
 old as Solomon — a wise man notwith- 
 standing certain erratic actions. He dis- 
 covered, even in his day, that ' the thing 
 which has been it is that which shall be, 
 and there is no new thing under the sun.' 
 So don't trouble your head about so-called 
 originality, Harold. Write as nature 
 dictates, and when vou have learnt to 
 separate the wheat from the chaff, learned, 
 in fact, to know what others have written 
 and thus avoid it, you will find the wings 
 of your innate originality quite strong
 
 86 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 enough to bear jou through the clouds of 
 ephemeral criticism." 
 
 All of which Harold took to heart, that 
 is, as much of it as he could understand, 
 and went about his verse-making with 
 new inspiration. Already he could see 
 the golden dawn descending. Like the 
 shower which enwrapt the wondering 
 Danae fell the sweet hopes about his 
 heart, and he would come to me and put 
 his arms about my neck and tell me the 
 thousand and one secrets which filled his 
 breast. And I used to listen to his verses 
 and duly praise them, and not untruth- 
 fully either, for they were good verses, 
 giving promise of future excellence. 
 
 " How do they sound ? " he would 
 whisper, his face aglow, his great eyes 
 burning into mine ; ''do they sound like 
 poetry ? " And I would answer, " Beauti- 
 ful" — I believe I would have said the 
 same had they been the vilest doggrel 
 ever written. '' You will be the first 
 great Australian poet, never fear. Every 
 man in Australia will be proud of you.
 
 The Confessions of a Curre^icy Girl. 87 
 
 Perhaps, in time, the English will recog- 
 nize you too, though I am afraid that 
 much an Australian would appreciate 
 would be meaningless to them. Still, 
 Harold, if you can conquer England, you 
 have the world at your feet. What do 
 you think of that, my brother ? " 
 
 "I cannot think of it," he would 
 answer excitedly, '' I dare not. But tt 
 would be wonderful, wouldn't it. Sis ?'* 
 
 Poor Harold ! Wonderful indeed ! 
 
 As Will and I approached the veran- 
 dah, the conversation, whatever it had 
 been, ceased, and Mr. Langton turned 
 and surveyed us with a look of genuine 
 admiration. 
 
 "And Pll wager they don't think any 
 the worse of you for it," I heard him say 
 as we mounted the steps. '' Ah," he con- 
 tinued as we advanced towards them, 
 '' a bonnie pair, Hastings, a bonnie pair. 
 You ought to be a proud and happy 
 man." 
 
 *' And am I not ? " asked father with a 
 smile.
 
 88 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 '' Of course you are ; how could you be 
 otherwise ? I would I were half as for- 
 tunate.'* 
 
 '' You ! " exclaimed father amusedly. 
 " What have I in comparison with you ? 
 If I am occasionally happy, you ought to 
 be in a perpetual state of bliss." 
 
 '' On the assumption that as I can afford 
 to pay for fifty dinners a day, I ought to 
 be able to eat them, l^ot a bad proposi- 
 tion. Why should not a man be capable 
 of eating fifty dinners if he can get them ? 
 Is there a more pleasurable sensation 
 than that of eating good things ? " 
 
 '' I may think so," said father, "but I 
 will grant you that many do not." 
 
 '' Which means that like is made for 
 like ; but as we are like no one thing, but 
 seem to be the affinity, the component 
 part of everything that interests us, you 
 will understand that we should quickly 
 tire of even fifty dinners per diem. The 
 beggar who has health and a hearty 
 appetite yearns for the money bags of 
 Croesus ; and poor old Croesus, who hasn't
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 89 
 
 a sound tootli in his head, who cannot 
 even digest a nightingale's tongue, who 
 is never, sleeping or waking, free from 
 some pain, some annoyance, feels that he 
 wouldn't mind changing places with the 
 beggar/' 
 
 '' And to what does all this unfathom- 
 able talk tend ?" 
 
 " That you are more to be envied than 
 I, and that I was never so jealous of any 
 man as I am of you." 
 
 " You're joking, surely ? " said father. 
 
 "A sorry joke. You have that for 
 which I, with all my flocks and herds, 
 sigh in vain — a loving family. There 
 was only one creature in this world who 
 could have made my wealth a real 
 blessing, and she, God rest her, passed 
 away before success had fairly crowned 
 my efforts." 
 
 *' Believe me," said father, and I could 
 see that he was thinking of his own dear 
 helpmate, his eyes grew so wondrously 
 soft, " I can imagine your loss, and sym- 
 pathize with your sorrow. But there is a
 
 90 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 lot of happiness in life, even for the most 
 despondent, if they will search diligently 
 for it. Come now, reflect. Fate has been 
 kinder to you than to the generality of 
 her sons. Go down on your knees and 
 thank her." 
 
 "And yet to me my reward does not 
 seem to exceed my deserts." 
 
 "JSTor would the purple of the world 
 seem out of place on the shoulders of an 
 emperor — to him, at least. What it 
 would seem to the world is another 
 matter. Not that I blame the human 
 craving for more, more ! It is that 
 which has kept the world spinning all 
 these centuries. It is that which has 
 invented steamships, railways, telegraphs, 
 telephones, and our whole catalogue of 
 earthly wonders. The spirit of man is 
 like the universe it inhabits — boundless, 
 infinite ; an animal one minute, a God 
 the next. That it shall never cease 
 craving for the unattainable is the price 
 it pays for its greatness." 
 
 " Then you think it would be wise if
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 91 
 
 we were all to try and make the best of 
 what we have ? '* 
 
 ** There is no little reason in such philo- 
 sophy." 
 
 " Ah, my dear fellow/' said Mr. Lang- 
 ton, *'it may be within the bounds of 
 reason, but it is beyond the bounds of 
 practicability. Give a man gold, and he 
 strives for power ; give him power, and 
 he yearns for power unlimited ; give a 
 woman a necklace of stars, and she will 
 sigh for the sun as a pendant to it. 
 Satisfaction is an unknown word, or at 
 least an unexperienced sensation." 
 
 *'And still I repeat, you ought to be 
 satisfied." 
 
 " Ought to be, and is — two different 
 things, aren't they ? JSTot that I really 
 have much cause to grumble, only I like 
 to talk. Old men, like old women, were 
 ever noted for their garrulity. Fred's 
 a bit of a bother to be sure, and seems to 
 be rushing to the dogs with express speed. 
 If the rascal wasn't so like his mother, I'd 
 disinherit him to-morrow. These young
 
 92 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 fellows little think, as they throw their 
 gold about, what trouble it cost their 
 fathers to gain it.** 
 
 '' You know the saying in reference to 
 putting old heads on young shoulders. 
 The world was old before our young 
 days, Langton. Yet, you see, I am here. 
 The knowledge of my mistake may act 
 as a slight deterrent to my son in some 
 few things, but the broader paths of life 
 he will have to walk for himself.'* 
 
 '*I suppose so, though it seems in- 
 credible that it should be so, considering 
 how much we might teach them. But 
 Will there looks strong enough to trudge 
 any road — isn't that so, William ? " 
 
 Will said he was not afraid to face the 
 great conundrum of the future. 
 
 " I should think not," said Mr. Lang- 
 ton. " You're all right. Will, while you 
 keep those brawny arms and that straight 
 back of yours. And Flossie there, she 
 too has her hopes, I can see. Come, 
 come, don't blush, child. You shall be 
 pretty enough for him, never fear. But
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 93 
 
 Where's my dreamer, my young poet, all 
 this time ? " 
 
 '* His back is bad," I said. *' He is in 
 bed." 
 
 " Poor poet. He is a great sufferer ? " 
 
 '' Great, sir." 
 
 *' May I see him ? " 
 
 *' Oh, yes." 
 
 So the good squatter, extracting a book * 
 from his pocket, for he never forgot to 
 bring Harold some sort of present, rose 
 from his seat and went into the house 
 with father. 
 
 As soon as they were'gone, "Will looked 
 at me and began to grin. 
 
 " He's a queer old chap, isn't he ? " 
 
 " He's a dear old man," said I some- 
 what indignantly. 
 
 " Yes, of course," says Master Will, 
 still grinning furiously, " but don't you 
 think ? — " Here he stopped and tappe 
 his forehead significantly. 
 
 " How dare you ! You ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself ! " 
 
 ** Well, you know, Flos, he can't be too
 
 94 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 securely" tiled. Did jou ever hear such 
 talk, such a lot of arrant nonsense out of 
 Bedlam ? " 
 
 *' I was never in Bedlam," I answered 
 rather airily, " so cannot say." And I 
 bowed to him, thereby implying a compli- 
 ment of a dubious nature. 
 
 '* Bedlam or no Bedlam," he replied, 
 '' if that's the sort of rubbish they've 
 been shooting into little Harry, I don't 
 wonder the poor boy has taken to 
 poetry." 
 
 " I'm afraid I shall never be able to 
 pity you for a similar falling away." 
 
 " Don't you be sarcastic, miss. I like 
 poor little Harry as much as any of you, 
 and no one would feel prouder than I of 
 his success ; but if Mr. Langton is the 
 fountain from which he draws his inspira- 
 tion, I begin to tremble." 
 
 " You are a very foolish fellow, Will, 
 and don't in the least understand human 
 nature. Do you for one moment suppose 
 that Harold is going to swallow every- 
 thing that comes along? And don't
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 95 
 
 you know that man is a talking animal ; 
 also, that he is not without some touch of 
 the peacock ? Do you follow me ? " 
 
 " Of course I do ; but I'm hanged if 
 you don't beat about the bush as much as 
 he does. Why don't you out with a thing 
 when you have it to say ?" 
 
 " When a sensible person has a thing 
 to say he, or she, makes the most of it." * 
 " To show off his cleverness ? " 
 *' Will, you are too precipitous ; the 
 possessor of too much bone and muscle." 
 But at the same time I could not help 
 admiring his huge limbs, limbs which 
 would be bigger yet and stronger too. 
 
 *'And not enough brain, eh, Impu- 
 dence?" 
 
 "You are as God made you," I said 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " And not badly made either — at least 
 so I've been told," he added with a sly 
 look. And stretching out his two big 
 arms, he caught me round the waist and 
 held me out as though I were a baby. 
 '' Peacock ! " I cried, struggling to
 
 96 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 free myself. '' That girl is making a fool 
 of you." 
 
 '' Grirl ? " said he, assuming a look of 
 wonder. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Innocent. I know all 
 about it, and everyone else knows 
 that Polly Lane is the biggest flirt in 
 Wallan." 
 
 '' She's pretty, though," says he, the 
 big idiot ! 
 
 " JSTot half as pretty as Ella Wallace," 
 I replied. 
 
 "Ah, but Ella's mother doesn't keep 
 a pub," he answered nonchalantly. 
 " You've no idea what a jolly place a 
 pub is." 
 
 '* No, I have not," I replied with some 
 asperity. 
 
 '' A cosy chair," he continued, unheed- 
 ing my remark, " a pipe, a glass and a 
 pretty girl. What more can the heart of 
 man desire ? " 
 
 " Much, I should think." 
 
 " But you are not a man." 
 
 " If I were, I should be ashamed to
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 97 
 
 own that my aspirations rose no higher 
 than the bubbles on a pint pot." 
 
 " You are forgetting the pipe and the 
 girl. But that reminds me, Flos. I 
 heard over there," nodding towards 
 Wallan, and meaning, of course, the 
 *' Shearer's Rest," over whose beer-taps 
 the siren Polly Lane presided, 'Hhat 
 Captain Fred had lost heavily on Jihe 
 Cup. I suppose it was that to which 
 Mr. Langton referred just now ? " 
 
 '' Probably." 
 
 "He must be an awfully wild fellow, 
 Flos. Keeps a racing stable and the 
 Lord knows what not. They say he 
 dropped ten thousand to Bo Johnson 
 over that one race. Lucky beg- 
 gar!" 
 
 '' Lucky ! Why, the man must be a 
 born idiot." 
 
 " Ah, you women don't understand," 
 said he sapiently. 
 
 " I should think not." 
 
 " I mean, he's lucky to be able to lose 
 ten thousand."
 
 98 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 " Anybody could lose it, if they had it, 
 and wanted to." 
 
 *' Oh, you're hopeless. But here come 
 the old people. I'm off." And with a 
 knowing smile he darted from my side 
 and disappeared round the corner of the 
 house. Poor old Will had had enough 
 philosophy for one day. 
 
 This Captain Fred, of whom he had 
 made mention, was Mr. Langton's only 
 son, and, if report erred not, would one 
 day inherit his father's vast wealth. We 
 saw little of him at Wall an at any time, 
 so that he was a sort of exaggerated 
 myth to most of us, but rumours of his 
 wild doings in Melbourne reached us at 
 odd intervals, intensified, no doubt, by 
 repetition and distance. I know we all 
 regarded him as a very terrible sort of 
 person, but then in Wallan we were a 
 simple race of beings, and really knew 
 nothing of the people who lived in the 
 world of great cities. We had our race 
 week once a year ; a race ball usually 
 wound up the festive proceedings ; all the
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 99 
 
 rest of our lives was flat, stale and un- 
 profitable. I think such girls as Polly 
 Lane had the best of it in townships like 
 ours. True, she drew beer and had to 
 countenance much choice bush dialogue ; 
 but, if rumour may be trusted, she had 
 her moments of recompense. I know she 
 was saucy enough to be happy, and I ani 
 likewise certain that she did her best 'to 
 entice Will away from home, feeling sure 
 that she only did it to pique me. Will 
 thought my suspicions decidedly uncom- 
 plimentary to himself. 
 
 Captain Fred was an honorary captain 
 of our local volunteers. He had a cap- 
 tain's uniform, and very naturally called 
 himself after it, but whether he knew 
 anything of military matters, or whether 
 he ever attended drill, I cannot say. I 
 know it was his custom to appear in 
 uniform at the annual treat he gave the 
 corps at Langton Station, but there, I 
 have every reason to believe, his soldier- 
 ing began and ended. He clung to the 
 title, however, and whenever we saw his 
 H 2
 
 lOO The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 name in tlie paper tlie '^ Captain " always 
 preceded it. And bow fond we Austra- 
 lians are of a title, and what won't we do 
 to gain one — from our tradesmen to our 
 politicians, who are also tradesmen. Our 
 athletes are ** professors," and each un- 
 skilled medico, who shames the title, 
 writes " Doctor " in large letters all 
 over his insignificant person. And what 
 think you means all this frothy talk of 
 imperialism and loyalty but the ulterior 
 hope of gain ? Loyalty to what, to 
 whom ? A man must be loyal to his own 
 country before he prates of loyalty to- 
 wards others. Pity it is that Australians 
 do not govern Australia, though they 
 too fall in adoration before the god of 
 '' honours." I wonder what we would 
 think of ourselves if we had a few 
 lords, and why we should not have 
 them I am at a loss to comprehend. It is 
 extremely aggravating that the British 
 Government does not humour us in this 
 also. They had better look to it if they 
 want to pass Imperial Federation, for no
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. loi 
 
 honest man could possibly think of 
 pledginghis country for a beggarly knight- 
 hood. We are quite English enough to 
 worship the creation. So much, in fact, 
 do we out-Herod Herod in this respect, 
 that it has long been a considerable sur- 
 prise to me why we do not manufacture a 
 few batches of lords of our own — as they 
 do in England, every year. Truly, 6ur 
 new creations might for a period pose as 
 the butt of vulgar ridicule, but laughter 
 is evanescent by nature, nor can people 
 laugh for ever. In a year we should get 
 used to them ; in a generation they would 
 be blue-blooded. JNTo one would laugh 
 then.' Really it is too absurd for a grow- 
 ing country, and one which entertains 
 hopes of an independent nationality, to 
 subject itself to the whims of a monarch 
 (who is only human), or a prime minister, 
 who, alas ! is only human too. 
 
 Not that I believe Captain Fred was 
 any the worse for his little vanities. We 
 love an honour, not for the thing itself, 
 but because people honour us for it. And
 
 I02 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 who can deny that Captain does not sound 
 better than Mr. ? I am quite prepared 
 to admit that it should not ; that one is 
 really as empty or as full as the other, 
 but we cannot disguise the fact that it is 
 not so common, and a superfine world 
 fails to see anything attractive in common 
 things. 
 
 So Mr. Frederick Langton was Captain 
 Langton, and if it pleased him to be so 
 bedecked, I really don't know that it did 
 anyone else harm. We all called him 
 Captain naturally enough, and I won't 
 say the title did not enhance his reputa- 
 tion. It certainly raised him a little out 
 of the commonplace ; threw a sort of halo 
 round his half-fabulous personality, added 
 a charm, so to speak, to his vices and his 
 virtues — if of the latter he ever had any. 
 He certainly was a man to set an un- 
 sophisticated heart throbbing, for your 
 scapegraces have a great charm for 
 women, or rather girls, who are headless 
 women. I had not seen Captain Fred 
 above a dozen times, and had not seen
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 103 
 
 him at all for the last two years ; but I 
 used to hear so much of him that I often 
 caught myself wondering what manner of 
 man he might be. There is something 
 extremely fascinating in a rakish reputa- 
 tion, be it of man or woman. Like runs 
 to like, I suppose. Still, the bad are 
 never wholly bad ; neither are the good 
 too good. If, however. Captain Fred was 
 anything like his reputation, or what was 
 left of it, he was one to set a young girl 
 by the ears. Handsome he was — he 
 certainly looked well in his photograph — 
 and I have a vivid recollection of a pair 
 of impudent blue eyes, and a heavy, well- 
 curled moustache, but beyond that I had 
 little to go on, except his reputation, and 
 that, alas, was in such a dilapidated con- 
 dition that I dared not venture far upon it. 
 Of his sister Maud, for he had a sister 
 some four or five years younger than 
 himself, I knew a little more, for she and 
 I had often played and ridden together 
 before — before I knew that I had any 
 cause to be ashamed of my father. But I
 
 I04 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 recollect one day her governess putting 
 the old question, '* Was it true ? etc." 
 From that moment Maud Langton and I 
 were only on bowing terms; outwardly 
 we remained good friends, but our friend- 
 ship had little warmth or geniality in it. 
 I was not slow in guessing the reason of 
 her coldness, and having no little pride of 
 my own we soon came to a tacit under- 
 standing. Then she went away to Mel- 
 Dourne, to school. Afterwards she lived 
 with some relations in Toorak, and I knew 
 by the number of times her name graced 
 the fashionable intelligence of the news- 
 papers that she was a star of the higher 
 heavens. I won't say I envied her, though, 
 perhaps, that were a true definition of my 
 feelings. Yet how could I help contrast- 
 ing her lot with mine, though the action 
 brought a thousand bitter thoughts to my 
 heart, and the bitter tears to my eyes ?
 
 CHAPTER V]. 
 
 And so one after the other rolled the 
 days along, changeless except for the 
 changing seasons. Ours was a very even, 
 methodical life, and if we knew no great 
 joy we experienced no deep sorrow. I 
 suppose there are thousands who live the 
 same dull, happy lives, for happy they are 
 in their own uninteresting way. Happy 
 the nation that has no history. Happy 
 the people, too, say I. I sometimes for- 
 got that I had one, and wished that I 
 might forget it altogether. But that was 
 not to be, worse luck ! Our miseries, like 
 our vices, are too fond of us ever to part 
 company. 
 
 Harold still went on with his verse- 
 making and his reading. Poor boy, he 
 could not walk much owing to his sad
 
 io6 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 affliction, but whenever the weather was 
 fine (and sometimes in summer it was a 
 little too fine), he would hobble across the 
 paddock to the creek, and there would sit 
 by the hour reading, and dreaming, no 
 doubt, o£ the great verses he would write, 
 and the fame which would one day be his. 
 What a fairyland is this in which these 
 young poets exist. A dream-life whose 
 ways are strewn with roses, the odour of 
 which, rising up to the brain, intoxicates 
 the soul. What know they of the ways of 
 the world and the harshness of man ? Do 
 they ever think of it, I wonder, these un- 
 practical poets? Or do they hear the 
 birds sing always, as they, too, bird-like, 
 whirl through the summer air? They 
 dream of fame, surely, but not as men 
 dream of it. In their craving is no 
 sordid thought, no vain, pretentious flut- 
 tering of the poetic wing. They have 
 but one idea — to produce the beautiful, to 
 make sweet music. As the birds sing, so 
 sing they, till the elder birds peck them 
 and they die.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 107 
 
 Will went his way also, which was not 
 that of Harold ; yet he was a good fellow 
 through and through ; as strong as Harold 
 was weak, as practical as the poet was 
 dreamy. He was a great help to father 
 now, and was given a pound a week 
 pocket money, or wages, so that he was 
 quite independent, and as a consequence 
 he soon took unto himself the masculine 
 air of importance, Not that he carried 
 it off with very much dignity, for he 
 could never be anything but a great, soft- 
 hearted boy. I saw, with something much 
 akin to fear, that his visits to Wallan did 
 not decrease with his exalted status, and I 
 doubted not that Polly Lane and the 
 " Shearer's Rest " were the attraction. 
 I dreaded that girl, and knew that she 
 would like to do me an ill turn through 
 him ; but he always laughed at me when- 
 ever I spoke of her, and told me that she 
 was a profound admirer of mine. 
 
 " She knew that would please you, you 
 booby," I said, for our family devotion 
 was a by-word in the place.
 
 io8 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 " Don't be uncharitable, Flos," he 
 replied. " Try to give the girl credit for 
 being honest once in a way. Everybody 
 knows that you are beautiful. She only 
 spoke the truth." 
 
 " But I am not beautiful," I said in my 
 vainness, not unwilling to hear my praises 
 sung even by a brother's lips. 
 
 " By George, ain't you? " he said — he 
 was never very particular in his choice of 
 words, poor old Will ! But in his eyes 
 there was something better than the 
 sound of sweet words. Dear old fellow ! 
 I wonder if all brothers and sisters love 
 each other as we did ? If so, how pleas- 
 ant some portion of their lives must have 
 been ; in what a world of delightful 
 memories they may revel when time has 
 stiffened their joints and bade them sit 
 down and think. 
 
 Of course I couldn't scold him any 
 more after his flattering estimation of 
 myself ; it would have been like putting 
 a knife into my own breast. Neither 
 could I tell him how Ella had coaxed
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 109 
 
 me to speak, because she had forbidden 
 me to mention her name. Poor Ella ! 
 So I dismissed him with a warning 
 against all red-haired girls ; at which he 
 laughed and said her hair (meaning 
 Polly Lane's) was golden ; kissed me and 
 pointed out that my own shone with a 
 reddish tinge in the sunlight, and then 
 read me a warning against myself, 
 which, in the light of after events, reads 
 somewhat like a prophecy. But I under- 
 stand you now. Will. Dear old fellow, 
 you knew more of the world than I, clever 
 as I thought myself. 
 
 One Sunday, shortly after this abortive 
 attempt of mine to lead Will into the 
 narrow way, the Wallaces, mother and 
 father, Arthur and Ella, drove over in a 
 body and took Granite Creek by storm. 
 Arthur was going to Melbourne on the 
 morrow to enter the university, and so it 
 was decided that we should all dine 
 together and wish him Grod-speed. We 
 were all awaiting them on the verandah 
 when they drove up in their nice new
 
 1 lo The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 pair-horse buggy, and while Will and 
 Arthur took the team round to the stables, 
 I led Ella away to my room, mother 
 showing a like attention to Mrs. Wallace, 
 who, as I have already mentioned, had 
 been her friend and companion in her 
 young days in England. And how 
 delighted they always seemed when they 
 met — as though they had been parted for 
 years. Mother used to say that the sight 
 of her friend's sweet face reminded her 
 so much of the old, happy days ; and then 
 she would suddenly check herself and 
 smile, and wonder how she could have 
 been happy without her children. Poor 
 thing ! I see with different eyes now. 
 What knew I then, what could I even 
 guess, of the misery which had been hers, 
 the dull hopelessness more bitter than the 
 sharpest pain ? She never complained ; 
 she had always a kiss and a smile for us 
 children, a sad smile, truly, but, oh, so 
 sweet. To father she was the calm, 
 serious helpmate, the holy lover. Soft of 
 speech, tender, solicitous ; never did I
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 1 1 1 
 
 know them speak angrily to each other ; 
 no shadow of a frown ever came between 
 them. She, knowing what he had suffered, 
 strove hard to lighten his burden, and he, 
 forgetting nothing of the debt he owed 
 her, worshipped the very ground she 
 walked on. Often of an evening-, as we 
 all sat round the fire, he in one corner 
 reading, she in the other plying her busy 
 needle, have I seen him drop his book, 
 look steadily at her till his eyes grew 
 dim, and then, rising, walk over to her 
 and take her dear head between his 
 hands and kiss her as he must have 
 kissed her in the days when they knew no 
 sorrow. What would their lives have 
 been under happier circumstances ? 
 Could they have loved each other more, 
 would they even have been happier ? 
 Perhaps not. To me it seems as though 
 this thing we call sorrow, sad and pitiful 
 though it be, were the one thing requisite 
 to insure man the eternal peace of 
 heaven. Through sorrow, by sorrow, and 
 out of sorrow come all things glorious;
 
 1 1 2 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 the sad symbol is it which veils the tidings 
 of great joy. Only can the heart 
 thoroughly rejoice when it has emerged 
 from the black clouds of despair. For the 
 joy of nations was not the Cross uplifted 
 on the Hill of Calvary ? 
 
 Upon returning to the verandah we 
 found the little party seated in easy 
 chairs chatting amiably and eating 
 peaches. Mr. Wallace was loudly dilat- 
 ing on the beautiful proportions of his 
 new buggy, which had only arrived from 
 Melbourne that week, while mother and 
 Mrs. Wallace sustained a separate con- 
 versation on their own account. Will and 
 Arthur were in the far corner of the 
 verandah, also eating peaches, but look- 
 ing very serious. At least Arthur was, 
 for his dark face looked darker and 
 gloomier than usual. 
 
 " Poor Arthur," said I to Ella, '' how 
 serious he looks." 
 
 " Yes, poor boy," she answered myste- 
 riously. 
 
 *' I suppose most people feel rather
 
 The Confessions of a Cttrrertcy Girl, 1 1 3 
 
 queer when they leave home for the first 
 time ? " 
 
 *' If that were all," she said, " I 
 wouldn't mind it so much." 
 
 '' All ! What else can it be ? He is 
 anticipating home-sickness already," and 
 I'm afraid I laughed somewhat heedlessly 
 at the thought. 
 
 " How can you, Flossie ! You seem to 
 forget that Arthur is a man now." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose he is. How strange it 
 seems, doesn't it? Why, I can shut my ejes 
 and fancy that it was only the other day 
 we went quong-dong hunting together." 
 
 '* He is twenty," said she, as though 
 that were a patriarchal age. 
 
 '* Of course ; and is about to enter the 
 university, and become a famous physi- 
 cian. Fancy old Arthur famous." 
 
 " Why shouldn't he be ! " she exclaimed 
 reproachfully. 
 
 " Of course ; why shouldn't he be ? I 
 hope he may be." 
 
 " Then why don't you tell him so ? " 
 
 " I suppose I never thought of it." 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 I saw the pained look shoot across her 
 face, and it at once struck me that I had 
 been more than unsympathetic. Before 
 I could explain, or get an explanation, 
 however, Mr. "Wallace called me to him, 
 and my thoughts were immediately di- 
 verted into another channel. 
 
 He was singularly like Arthur in 
 appearance, though the finely-chiselled 
 face of the boy was here enlarged and 
 coarse. The eyes were the same, though, 
 and I doubt not but that the chin would 
 have been as like, could I have seen it for 
 the brindled beard which hid it. The 
 mouth, too, was cut in the same firm way, 
 though the lips had not the full curl of 
 the boy's. They used to say that thin 
 mouth of his could look very cruel at times, 
 and I have heard more than one story of 
 the hard bargains he was wont to drive. 
 I know not if they were true : perhaps 
 there was some grain of truth in them. I 
 know he was proud, not altogether purse- 
 proud, but pompous like most successful 
 men. That, however, is one of those
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 115 
 
 petty weaknesses to which humanity is 
 susceptible ; it concerns us little. He was 
 never hard to me or mine, and if he in- 
 dulged in the " gentlemanly vice " of 
 avarice (perhaps traceable to his Cale- 
 donian descent), as some said he did, 
 it concerned him only. To us he was 
 always amiable, the best of friends. As 
 father and husband he was irreproachable 
 — no mean catalogue of recommenda- 
 tions. 
 
 '* Come and sit beside me, Flossie," he 
 said, " and let me think that I'm a boy 
 again. It isn't often, you know, that I 
 get the opportunity of making love to 
 such a fairy." 
 
 "Whose fault is that?" I answered, 
 entering into and enjoying the banter, for 
 among Mr.Wallace's many qualities might 
 be reckoned his love of a joke. 
 
 "My own, truly," he replied with a 
 mock sigh. " What a depraved wretch I 
 must be to shut the gates of Paradise on 
 myself." 
 
 At this there was a general laugh, 
 I 2
 
 ii6 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 though I could see that father did not 
 receive the nonsense with much favour. 
 
 '' You have not forgotten how to turn 
 a pretty speech," he said ; and though he 
 smiled, it was not too gaily. " If Florence 
 were like other girls, I should tremble for 
 her vanity." 
 
 '' Vanity," exclaimed Mr. Wallace, " is 
 an excellent thing, and knows how to 
 take care of itself. Don't you tremble for 
 vanity, Hastings. It is the stream which 
 sends this mill-wheel of a world buzzing ; 
 the life and soul of the universe. Keep 
 vanity well in hand, as you would a partly- 
 broken colt, and behold we have pride, 
 emulation, and, indirectly, genius, immor- 
 tality." And at the conclusion of this 
 magnificent outburst he turned to father 
 with a triumphant look. Father smiled, 
 but answered not. Perhaps he did not 
 take such a broad-minded view of the 
 subject as his friend ; perhaps, too, know- 
 ing Mr. Wallace of old, he thought it 
 would be a futile business to attempt to 
 argue with a man who continually held
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 1 1 7 
 
 himself up as a successful example of his 
 own argument. No matter what the 
 subject might be, Mr. Wallace would 
 introduce into it his own personality, and 
 from such premises would argue that such 
 and such must be correct. " I made 
 money easily ; therefore money is easily 
 made." When a man takes this tone 
 there is no gainsaying him. 
 
 " I think your idea of vanity differs 
 slightly from the general meaning of the 
 word," said mother slowly. 
 
 " And pray how ? " exclaimed Mr. 
 Wallace, cocking up his ears, ever ready 
 for an encounter. 
 
 '' By it we mean something contempti- 
 ble, shallow, conceited. Pride, on the 
 other hand, is a noble quality." 
 
 *'My dear madam," was the airy 
 answer, '* they are six of one and half-a- 
 dozen of the other. Vanity, pride, and 
 arrogance — a hair's-breadth don't divide 
 'em. Vanity in the great is emulation, 
 ambition ; ambition in the vulgar is 
 vanity. Punctilious sticklers may rave
 
 1 1 8 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 about the precise shade of meaning, but 
 I say they're triplets, nothing more nor 
 less. Now take me as an example, a suc- 
 cessful example — " But we were luckily 
 spared any further panegyrics on the 
 great Me by the timely arrival of our 
 cook, who brought the welcome intelli- 
 gence that dinner was ready. So into 
 the house we trooped, for whereas argu- 
 ment, transcendental or otherwise, can 
 keep, the dinner rapidly goes cold. 
 
 We did not entertain very often, but 
 when we did we strove to make a credit- 
 able show, and on this occasion the table, 
 if it did not actually groan under the good 
 things — which I have often read of tables 
 doing — seemed to rejoice in the splendour 
 that bedecked it. Father sat at the head 
 with Mrs. Wallace on his right hand, 
 mother at the foot with Mr. Wallace ^m. 
 her right hand and Harold on her left. 
 Then came Arthur and I, Ella and Will. 
 Cook, Ave called her '* cook," though she 
 was only a " general," flustered about 
 with a face like a bit of beet, puffing and
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 1 1 9 
 
 blowing like a porpoise and looking as 
 though she were slowly melting in the 
 heat ; while the young girl whom we had 
 engaged for the day, a farmer's daughter 
 entirely ignorant of service, went about 
 dropping the potatoes on the floor and 
 chipping our best bits of china. Still it 
 was a great feast, a feast for the gods, as 
 Mr. Wallace more than once declared ; 
 and, by the manner in which we manipu- 
 lated our knives and forks, I have good 
 reason for believing we did it justice— 
 that is, all except poor Arthur, who 
 seemed to be neither in appetite nor 
 spirits. 
 
 "When the meal was over Ella and I 
 put on our hats and strolled away down 
 to the creek, and as we walked I could not 
 help referring to Arthur's constrained 
 manners, a reference which did not alto- 
 gether please her, for she said something 
 about people having no sympathy and 
 caring little what became of " poor boys" ; 
 all of which, being so much Greek to me, 
 I passed over with a smile, as people will
 
 1 20 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 a quotation in French whioli they do not 
 understand. 
 
 " Will, too,'* she remarked, as though 
 she were about to pay me back in my 
 own coin, " seemed so unlike the Will of 
 old times that I should have thought he 
 was going away as well." 
 
 '' Perhaps he is," said T mysteriously. 
 
 "What do you mean?" The question 
 came rather hurriedly. 
 
 " He has not stopped going to Wallan 
 yet," I answered with a meaning look, 
 enjoying her consternation and being 
 ignorant of the real pain I was inflicting. 
 
 " Was he there last week ? " 
 
 " Every day." 
 
 " And he never called on us once." 
 This she uttered very sorrowfully. 
 
 " You don't keep the 'Shearer's Rest,' " 
 said I. 
 
 *'I wish we did." 
 
 I could not help laughing outright. 
 " What would papa say to that ? " 
 
 " Do you think," she said, and her hand 
 slipped into mine, and her earnest eyes
 
 The Confessions of a Ctirrency GirL 1 2 1 
 
 sought mine, " do you think that he — 
 that he really cares for her ? " 
 
 '' JN"o," I answered decidedly, seeing 
 that consolation was sorely required, 
 "how could he? " 
 
 '' But she is pretty." 
 
 " She is freckled." 
 
 '' I know it, but what are a few freckles ? 
 Besides, they say she is not very par- 
 ticular." 
 
 '' Oh, but he is." 
 
 And yet, strange to say, she did not 
 seem to get as much consolation from this 
 statement as might reasonably have been 
 expected ; so I continued to dilate upon 
 Will's lofty nature and elevated principles, 
 showing off against them, in a very un- 
 becoming and unflattering guise, Miss 
 Polly Lane's many infirmities. To all of 
 which poor Ella listened with a resignation 
 which was almost pitiful ; and as much 
 as I had hitherto disliked the alluring 
 syren of the " Shearer's Rest," I now 
 felt that dislike was too mild a word to 
 give adequate expression to my feelings.
 
 122 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 Here, however, what further conversa- 
 tion we might have indulged in on this 
 painful topic was brought to a hasty 
 conclusion by the sudden arrival of Will 
 and Arthur. 
 
 '' You're a queer pair," cried the former 
 as he came rushing up. '' What did you 
 want to run away like this for ? Arthur 
 and I have been looking for you every- 
 where." 
 
 "We wanted to talk," said I. 
 
 '' Talk," he echoed. "What can girls 
 find to talk abont ? " 
 
 " What can't they, you mean. Oh, lots 
 of things, from the latest fashion to the 
 ' Shearer's Rest.' " 
 
 He looked at me rather quizzingly and 
 asked me what I meant. 
 
 " Nothing," I answered with a laugh 
 and walked on with Arthur, leaving him 
 and Ella to follow at their own sweet will 
 and explain matters if they chose. 
 
 For a time Arthur and I walked on in 
 silence, he looking everywhere but at me, 
 I stealing furtive glances at him, for in
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 123 
 
 these little matters I fully believe the 
 woman is invariably more self-possessed 
 than the man. And I account for it, not 
 through any physical superiority on her 
 part, but simply because she need do 
 nothing but hold her head down, blush or 
 simper, while he makes most exhaustive 
 and ridiculous efforts to escape the bog 
 into which he has floundered. Then 
 again, unless he should happen to know 
 his subject, or make a very accurate guess, 
 he is apt to begin operations on one who 
 will not be operated upon. Confusion 
 worse confounded naturally ensues, and 
 the poor fellow cuts a lamentable figure 
 as he beats an ignominious retreat. 
 Amusing enough to the onlooker ; but, 
 said the frogs, what is play to you is death 
 to us. Instinct, however, is man's un- 
 failing guide ; a sort of Southern Cross in 
 his volatile firmament — fixed, perhaps the 
 only thing unchangeable about him. Let 
 him follow this and it will rarely lead 
 him astray; otherwise he is a blind 
 creature.
 
 1 24 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 That poor Arthur had something 
 troublesome on his mind I could tell by 
 the sympathetic throbbings of my own 
 heart. I more than half-suspected what 
 it was, and grew a trifle flurried in con- 
 sequence, for no matter how little a girl 
 may care for a man, the fact of his loving 
 her must make him seem different from 
 other men. 
 
 '^ I suppose you know I am going to- 
 morrow ? " he said at last. 
 
 Poor boy ! Of course I did. Hadn't I 
 known it for more than a month ? 
 
 '^ Oh, yes," I answered, '' and I suppose 
 you are glad to go ? " 
 
 '^ For some things, yes, though for 
 others I am sorry." 
 
 " Sorry ! How can you be sorry when 
 you are going away under such favourable 
 conditions ? If you work hard you may 
 get your degree before you are twenty- 
 five, and then think how proud we shall 
 all be of you." 
 
 '' Will you be proud of me ? " he said.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 125 
 
 quite boldly I thought, and not at all like 
 Arthur. 
 
 " Of course," I answered with a smile, 
 " as proud of you as though you were my 
 own brother." 
 
 He turned away with an impatient 
 gesture. 
 
 '' But I am not your brother." 
 
 " I have always thought of you as one," 
 I answered maliciously ; '' but if you wish 
 to disown the relationship — " 
 
 ** I do wish to disown it." • 
 
 '' As you please." 
 
 " Because I wish to claim a nearer." 
 
 He now began to get very red in the 
 face, and his earnest eyes seemed to look 
 right through me. He stammered, too, 
 quite painfully, and I could see that the 
 poor fellow was in a state of the most 
 acute agitation. I believe I grew half 
 afraid myself. Anyway, the laugh that 
 accompanied the question, " A nearer ? " 
 was more than half hysterical. 
 
 '' Yes," he repeated, ''a nearer. Have
 
 126 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 you, truly, never thought of me as any- 
 thing but a brother ? " 
 
 " Of what else should I think of you?" 
 I asked, nervously. 
 
 *' As a lover," he said, trying to take 
 my hand. 
 
 '' Oh, no ! not that," and I drew back 
 with a slight gesture of pain. 
 
 "I was afraid you had not." 
 
 For a moment he looked at me with 
 eyes so full of tenderness that I felt my 
 heart thump, thump with a sudden 
 longing to throw myself at his feet and 
 beg his forgiveness ; but at that moment 
 the loud voice of Will broke in upon me, 
 and the good impulse died away. 
 
 That night the Wallaces drove home by 
 moonlight, but before their setting-out 
 Arthur found me alone in the garden. 
 
 ''I don't know when I shall see you 
 again," he said, '' but you won't forget 
 me, Flos, will you ? " 
 
 " Of course not. What makes you 
 think of such a thing ? "
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 127 
 
 , " You are not angry, then ? " 
 ' " Oh, no." 
 
 " Brother or lover," he whispered in a 
 low, excited voice, " I am always yours, 
 yours for ever, body and soul. Don't for- 
 get that, will you? " 
 
 " Hush, hush ! You must not talk like 
 this." 
 
 He laughed in a grim sort of way, but 
 continued, " I've had my old silver ring 
 made into two — a small one and a large 
 one. I want you to accept the smaller ^s 
 a keepsake. It's not worth much as a gift 
 — not what I'd like to give you — but in 
 days to come you may prize it as a re- 
 membrance. Will you have it ? " 
 
 I did not like taking it, but, being 
 ashamed to refuse, assented. He slipped 
 the thin silver band over my engagement 
 finger, whether by design or accident I do 
 not know, then lifting my hand to his lips 
 kissed it passionately.
 
 CHAPTER yil. 
 
 And so slowly the days ran themselves 
 into weeks, the weeks to months, and all 
 the while we led the same dull, objectless 
 sort of existence : rising in the morning 
 and going through our allotted toil — what- 
 ever it might be — eating, and going to 
 bed again. True, I never expected to see* 
 a new sun every day, but I none the less 
 grew tired of watching the old one sail 
 across the great plains and go down night 
 after night behind the big trees by the 
 creek. I used to wonder if my lot was 
 ever going to change, or if I was doomed 
 henceforth to live only as the shadowy atom 
 of a woman ; a creature who grew lean or 
 fat, long or short as the sun rose or sank, 
 as the clouds fluttered overhead. I had in 
 my nature all the youthful craving for
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 129 
 
 change, a craving which we women, or 
 women such as I was then, cannot gratify 
 without risking much. Poor little fool ! 
 And yet how can one know till one has 
 learnt ? 
 
 Will, who had much of my nature, who 
 was, in fact, a masculine me, having no 
 sexual restraint upon him, felt not the 
 dreariness of our life with an equal inten- 
 sity, or if he did his reputation sadly 
 belied him ; for with shame must I own 
 that he had lately developed a most pro- 
 nounced partiality for certain persons at 
 Wallan who shall be nameless in these 
 pages. Mother, I am glad to say, never 
 knew half the things they said of her 
 handsome boy, though if she had it is ten 
 to one she would have rejected them as 
 unworthy of credence. He was still her 
 boy, though he now turned the scale at 
 thirteen stone seven and stood over six 
 feet high, and he would be her boy even 
 when his hair was grey and he had sons 
 and daughters of his own. It was a source 
 of much distress to me to hear of what 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 they called his loose ways, for I not un- 
 naturally thought that our dreadful 
 heritage might make him reckless and 
 hurry him to the dogs. And yet I never 
 wholly believed it, for there was always 
 consolation in his kind words and his 
 loving ways, and whenever I saw him 
 stretched out at mother's feet, his head in 
 her lap, as though he were a boy again, 
 I knew that the poison had not yet entered 
 his blood. 
 
 As for Harold, he seemed to take little 
 note of the changeless days. It always 
 broke the monotony for him if he were 
 well enough to hobble down to the creek 
 and back, and his journeylngs round the 
 garden of a morning were an invariable 
 source of delight. No flower bloomed, no 
 leaf appeared which escaped his eager 
 eye, and I verily believe that he was 
 intimately acquainted with each particular 
 weed. There in the old summer-house, 
 with the roses and the grapes growing 
 within reach of his hand, would he sit by 
 the hour reading his favourite authors, or
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 131 
 
 conning carefully his own hopeful yersea. 
 But he suffered much in those days, poor 
 boy, and his beautiful face grew paler and 
 paler, and, though he would not own it, 
 his hopes more feeble. '' Oh, if I could 
 only write one verse," he would say, '^ one 
 verse that will live when I am gone." It 
 was a modest enough wish as you meant 
 it, Harold, but, ah, what a wish ! It 
 almost broke my heart to see his pitiable 
 resignation, so sadly hopeful, and yet so 
 surely hopeless. Poor boy. And when 
 they sent back those first verses with the 
 curt information that they were '' not 
 suitable"! Not suitable, forsooth! I 
 should think not when they had never 
 printed any real poetry in their rag of a 
 newspaper. But no one ever knew save 
 you and me. We were not going to let 
 the world into all our secrets. Yet we 
 had our revenge, didn't we, when the big 
 Melbourne weekly inserted your '' Ode to 
 a Butterfly"? It was worth having our 
 disappointment to experience such a 
 pleasure ; nay, without that disappoint- 
 K 2
 
 132 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 ment the pleasure would liave been but 
 the ghost of a sensation. There was hope 
 then that the first great Australian poet 
 was born. What castles we built, what 
 cities reared on the airy foundations of our 
 exultant hope. Alas ! what knew we of 
 the world and the world's ways ? Alas ! 
 that hope too, like us, should be born to 
 sorrow to pass away in pain. 
 
 Of mother and father little need here be 
 said. They lived the same peaceful life, 
 only, if anything, they were quieter in 
 their ways, more reserved than they had 
 ever been. It was only when Mr. Langton 
 came over to Granite Creek that father 
 seemed to shake off his great depression. 
 Then, waking up as it were, he would be 
 as brilliant, courteous and affable as in 
 the old days, and Mr. Langton would go 
 away vowing that Hastings was the 
 happiest man in the world. Happy ! and 
 every day that sad face was growing 
 sadder, and the once muscular and up- 
 right figure now owned a perceptible 
 stoop. To me he seemed like a man who
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 133 
 
 thought too much ; a dreamer of dreams, 
 and not too pleasant ones either. How- 
 could they be ? What had he not lost by 
 that one act of madness ? Better, per- 
 haps, had his blow proved fatal. It would 
 have been a short shrift then — and 
 oblivion. No years of painful penance ; 
 no tears that could not wash away the 
 past ; no children of sorrow. He was 
 never the same after his confession. 1 
 think it broke his pride — annihilated his 
 dignity. He had been father, protector, 
 god : but with his own hand he had 
 shattered the idol. It seemed as though 
 he could no more believe in it himself. 
 
 I saw Arthur but once during this 
 period. It was when he came home for 
 the Christmas holidays. He was doing 
 famously at the University, so he told me, 
 and hoped to gain his degree without a 
 single plucking. Of course, I congratu- 
 lated him on his success, and hoped that 
 it might continue ; but nothing of a nearer 
 nature passed between us. He did not 
 even mention his ring, and I, because I
 
 134 -^^^^ Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 liad long since ceased to wear it, never 
 broached tlie subject, although I was not 
 slow to observe that he too was without 
 his half. Of Ella, I saw, as usual, a 
 great deal, and while she was lamenting 
 Will's backsliding, I was chafing, fool-like, 
 against the restraint of the curb, forgetting 
 that but for that restraint, we fools of 
 women would too often dash ourselves 
 to pieces. 
 
 But change was coming now with a 
 vengeance. That for which I had yearned 
 so long was close at hand. The orchestra 
 had struck its last chord ; a moment's 
 silence as of the grave was to follow. 
 Anon the little bell will ring out — that 
 same soft tinkle heralds in comedy or 
 tragedy — and by some mysterious pro- 
 cess the unwieldy curtain uplifts itself 
 and the stage is laid bare. I wonder how 
 we shall like the play ? 
 
 One day a man rode hastily up to 
 G-ranite Creek and inquired for father. 
 He had ridden with all dispatch from 
 Langton Station. Mr. Langton was illj
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 135 
 
 very ill, dying lie (the man) believed, and 
 lie had expressed a wish to see father. 
 The news came like a thunderclap to us 
 all ; we plied the man with numerous 
 questions, but could elicit little other 
 information from him. He seemed 
 to know nothing but that Mr. Lang- 
 ton was ill, and that he had been sent 
 to acquaint Mr. Hastings of the fact. 
 So father, even while the fellow was 
 speaking, jumped on the messenger's 
 horse and galloped away at break-n^ck 
 speed, the man himself following leisurely 
 some half -hour after on father's big roan. 
 
 After some three hours of anxious 
 waiting father returned looking extremely 
 dejected, and we immediately guessed the 
 worst. Nor were our guesses erroneous. 
 Mr. Langton was no more. 
 
 " He was unconscious when I got 
 there," father explained, '' and never 
 rallied again." 
 
 " Then he did not recognize you ?" said 
 mother* 
 
 *' No, poor fellow. He opened his eyes
 
 T 36 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 the moment before he died, but they were 
 glassy and vacant-looking, and already 
 dead." 
 
 And then he told ns how it all came 
 about ; how three days previously Mr. 
 Langton had been thoroughly drenched 
 while riding from Boorta to Wallan, and 
 had thereby caught a severe chill which 
 rapidly developed into acute pneumonia. 
 " Why did they not send for you 
 sooner ? " said mother. 
 
 " He wanted me," was the reply, ** but 
 the doctor would not hear of it. Afraid 
 that I might agitate the patient, or some 
 such nonsense. He, however, told me 
 that Mr. Langton had appeared exceed- 
 ingly anxious about my lease of Granite 
 Creek, and had spoken of making it over 
 to me entirely. But of course nothing 
 was done, and all he said was naturally 
 looked upon as so much wandering talk." 
 " Poor man, to die with no one near 
 him whom he loved." 
 
 " I have often heard him declare that 
 it is the way all rich people die. But the
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 137 
 
 doctor telegraphed to his children, and 
 they are expected here this evening." 
 
 So the good squatter was gone at last. 
 It seemed incredible that that apparently 
 healthy man should disappear from the 
 face of things so suddenly. Only a week 
 before he and father had sat on the 
 verandah for over an hour arguing Plato 
 and the immortality of the soul, and now 
 — well, he now knew as much about the 
 soul as Plato. I think it always a hard 
 fact to realize that people are dead ; 
 dumb, still, cold eternally. We miss them, 
 and we shall never see them again, at 
 least while this earthly shell holds to- 
 gether ; and yet I often think they are 
 not dead, for with an effort of memory I 
 can bring them before me, and see them 
 smile, and hear the tones of their well- 
 beloved voice. And what are these 
 intangible ghosts, these perfect shades of 
 nothingness ? Fancy, of course, an effort 
 of the imagination. Nothing more ? 
 
 Out of respect to the deceased, father, 
 Will and I went to the funeral, and, if I
 
 138 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 may be allowed so to speak, a great affair 
 it was ; the biggest thing ever seen in 
 Wallan. People flocked in from all the 
 country round, many out of respect, but 
 more out of curiosity ; for there was not 
 likely to be such another display in 
 Wallan for many a day to come. Certainly 
 there had never been one like it before. 
 It was estimated that the vehicles alone 
 stretched over half a mile — and a curious 
 collection of craft they were — while a 
 queue' of pedestrians, another half mile 
 in length, plodded on in the dust of the 
 wheels. With one thing, however, I was 
 particularly impressed, and that was the 
 decorum preserved by this huge crowd. To 
 all it seemed to be the one serious moment 
 of their lives. Men whose reputation for 
 wildness was the talk of the district, here 
 showed how like other men they were. 
 Perhaps, even they too thought of the day 
 that was to come. 
 
 I did not see Maud Langton at the 
 funeral, and learnt afterwards that she 
 had not followed her father's remains to
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 139 
 
 their last resting-place, but Captain Fred 
 was there decked out in all the trappings 
 of woe, which, however, did not detract 
 from his interesting personality. Yes, 
 even surrounded by every sign and 
 symbol of woe, I could find a thought for 
 a man's appearance. But then, was he 
 not a curiosity, a fabulous hero to us ; a 
 sort of mystery and terror, a forbidden 
 luxury like the tree of knowledge ? Too 
 like, alas ! 
 
 After the ceremony the more intimatS, 
 or, I might say, the more respectable 
 acquaintances of the deceased drove back 
 to the house and were there most lavishly 
 regaled with a plentiful supply of choice 
 funeral baked-meats, and if the majority 
 of the good folk did not thoroughly enjoy 
 themselves, there is no sign by which we 
 may detect enjoyment. I know I was so 
 vastly amused watching the antics of the 
 masticating crowd, that I did not 
 perceive, until father touched me on 
 the arm, that Captain Langton had joined 
 us.
 
 140 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 " My daughter," said father presenting 
 me. 
 
 '' Daughter. By Jove !'* And he looked 
 at me so intently that I had to bow low 
 to hide my confusion. 
 
 *'You have forgotten her, I suppose?" 
 said father. 
 
 '' I'm afraid I must plead guilty," he 
 said with an apologetic look at me. " Is 
 it possible that this is the little girl who 
 used to play with Maud ?" 
 
 '' The same," said father. 
 
 " By George, how she's grown." 
 
 I thought the conversation was veering 
 to a somewhat personal point, so I walked 
 over to Will, who stood a couple of yards 
 away, and asked him some silly question, 
 thereby showing my resentment. 
 
 "Your son, I suppose," I heard him 
 say to father, for my thoughts were on 
 him as well as my back. 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 '' By Jove, how like each other they 
 are." And I knew his eyes were watch- 
 ing me all the while.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 141 
 
 Presently father approaclied us. 
 
 " Captain Langton wishes to re- 
 introduce us to his sister," said he. But 
 neither Will nor I moved. I had not 
 forgotten the old days, and I was prouder 
 now. Will had not forgotten them either. 
 
 " Flos feels faint," he said, " I must 
 take her out on the verandah first." 
 
 " By all means," interposed the 
 Captain, '* I will bring my sister to you." 
 
 Will gave me his arm and led me 
 through the crowded room. * 
 
 *' There," said he, as soon as we had 
 reached the open air, " I hope he will 
 understand that we don't want to curry 
 favour of him. If I were you, Flos, I 
 wouldn't be introduced to her." 
 
 " I don't care one way or the other," 
 I replied. " She is, or can be, nothing to 
 me. But after all she was only a girl 
 then, and perhaps she may wish to forget, 
 so why shouldn't I ? " 
 
 Will growled out something about my 
 being put upon, and looked very cross. 
 He wouldn't be patronized himself and
 
 142 The Confessions of a Ciirrency GirL 
 
 lie wouldn't have me patronized, and he'd 
 be — what followed was lost in an inarticu- 
 late gurgle, for at that moment Captain 
 Langton and father approached with 
 Maud between them, and I saw old Will's 
 look of resentment change to one of 
 uneasy wonder. 
 
 Tall of figure and shapely in outline, 
 with a pale, calm and very beautiful face, 
 Maud Langton looked, as she stepped 
 gracefully towards us, as fair a picture of 
 young womanhood as one could wish to 
 see. There was no sign of tears in her 
 lustrous eyes ; no red or swollen lids 
 proclaimed the misery she must have 
 endured. She looked as placid as though 
 there were no such thing as woe, and 
 grief were an unknown term. And yet 
 with it all I thought of her as a most 
 melancholy figure ; in her movements 
 there was an indescribable motion of 
 sorrow, which the heavy crape dress she 
 wore, though it showed off the exquisite 
 whiteness of her skin and the unusual 
 shimmer of her hair, deeply accentuated.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 143 
 
 " This is my daughter," said father, 
 and there was a proud ring in his voice 
 as he spoke. 
 
 '' My old playfellow," said she, coming 
 forward and shaking me by the hand. 
 *' What a time it seems since we last saw 
 each other." 
 
 " Longer, indeed," thought I, '' than 
 there was any necessity for." 
 
 But I returned her pressure of the 
 hand and smiled back at her, though I 
 could not forget why we had parted so 
 long before. 
 
 " And this," said father turning to 
 her, '^ is my son Will. You must 
 remember him ? " 
 
 " Do you mean to say," said she in her 
 languid way, turning her wonderful eyes 
 full upon old Will, who looked none too 
 comfortable under the scrutiny, " that 
 this is the boy who used to ride as 
 though he had no neck to break ? " 
 
 Father smiled and said he was afraid 
 Will was somewhat reckless in his young 
 days, but that her surmise was substan-
 
 144 ^^^ Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 tially correct. As for poor old Will, lie 
 blushed as furiously as any schoolgirl, 
 and muttered that he believed he did ride 
 very foolishly as a boy, but that boys 
 really never knew the meaning of the 
 word '' fear." 
 
 " Nor," said she, " if one may judge 
 by appearances, should I think it 
 occasioned you much concern now." 
 
 Will smiled and said he didn't think it 
 did. But there, he was sure to please the 
 women with his handsome face and his 
 great loose limbs, for to a woman is there 
 not something wonderfully fascinating in 
 that physical strength which never can 
 be hers ? 
 
 '' But did you not have another son ? " 
 said she presently. " A little cripple, was 
 he not?" 
 
 *' Yes,'* said father in a low voice, 
 which conveyed a distinct reproach, *' I 
 have a son who met with an unfortunate 
 accident." 
 
 "Poor little fellow," said she, but 
 though her voice was pitched in a softer
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 145 
 
 key it entirely lacked feeling. There was 
 a languid, patronizing ring in it which I 
 thought peculiarly offensive. And yet it 
 might have been only my thought, which 
 had not yet forgotten the past ; for when 
 she turned to her brother and spoke she 
 addressed him in precisely the same 
 manner. Perhaps it was her style ; 
 perhaps again the sadness of the gather- 
 ing was not without its effect. It could 
 not well be otherwise. The wonder was 
 how she bore up so well. She was -a 
 lonely girl after all, and what she had 
 done to me in the old days had nothing 
 to do with the present. So I talked to 
 her of her father, and told her how fond 
 we all were of him, and how often he 
 came to take tea with us, and of the many 
 happy hours we had all spent together ; 
 and as I spoke the tears came into her 
 eyes for, I believe, the first time, and she 
 declared that she had not been a very 
 loving or dutiful daughter, and that she 
 would never forgive herself for her selfish 
 indifference. In five minutes — for when 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 they saw us walk aside the men very 
 considerately quitted us — we had gone 
 over much of the old ground, and in ten 
 minutes she was imploring me to call her 
 by her Christian name as before. '' Let 
 us be Maud and Flossie as we were of 
 old," she said. " I seem to be the 
 most utterly lonesome creature in the 
 world." 
 
 I was not one to bear resentment, 
 especially to one who seemed so sorely in 
 need of help, and who held out the hand 
 with the wish that bygones should be 
 bygones. Moreover, how did I know that 
 she had really intended to cut me ? I had 
 been sensitive of slights all my life, and 
 when I knew that there was good cause 
 for shame, I saw nothing but a perpetual 
 insult. A look, a half -heard word, sent 
 the blood rushing confusedly through my 
 veins. I had always demanded more con- 
 sideration than my position entitled me 
 to, and when I knew that there was a 
 real cause for slighting me, my demands 
 increased ; so that between one thing and
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 147 
 
 another I, at times, contrived to make 
 my life a burden. 
 
 At length our trap drove round to the 
 door, being one of the last to make 
 its appearance, and Captain Fred and his 
 sister came out on the verandah to see us 
 off. 
 
 " You will come and see me soon, 
 Flossie, will you not?" she said, as she 
 bade me good-bye. '' You know I shall 
 be awfully wretched in this lonely place." 
 
 " You, I hope, will not forget us either,'* 
 said the Captain, addressing father. " I 
 know all about your life-long friendship 
 with my father, and I trust that I may 
 not be unworthy to fill his place in your 
 good opinion." 
 
 '' You may be sure," replied father as 
 he shook the young man by the hand, 
 '' that my friend's son shall be mine, if he 
 wishes it." 
 
 Then followed a general invitation to 
 
 us all. Langton Station was a big place 
 
 and desolate enough at the best of times ; 
 
 therefore, what was it likely to be now ? 
 
 L 2
 
 148 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 If we had any pity for them, we were im- 
 plored to show it by coming over and 
 cheering them up on every possible 
 occasion ; and not until we promised, and 
 let them know that there was some likeli- 
 hood of our promise being kept, did they 
 seem inclined topartwith us. But at last 
 away we went, and for quite half an hour 
 none of us spoke a word, being, apparently, 
 too full of thought. Of what father was 
 thinking as he sat smoking his pipe, I 
 cannot say for certain, though by the 
 gloomy look on his face, I might easily 
 have made a shrewd guess ; but of what 
 Will and I thought, the following brief 
 dialogue may, perhaps, afford a clue. 
 
 We had gone on, as I have said, for a 
 long time in silence, when suddenly I ex- 
 claimed, unconsciously, it seems to me, " I 
 am sure he is a much- wronged man." 
 
 " She is very beautiful, though," says 
 Will. 
 
 At this we both looked up into each 
 other's face and laughed confusedly.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 That night we were all strangely reticent 
 concerning the funeral, which was the 
 more surprising considering what a new 
 experience it had been. I never knew old 
 Will to be so silent, so preoccupied, while 
 I, who had my full share of woman's 
 garrulity, found it an almost intolerable 
 nuisance to have to narrate, for 
 Harold's benefit, the more important 
 incidents of the ceremony. Did I see 
 Captain Fred, and what did I think of 
 him? Did he show any sign, bear any 
 visible mark of being the terrible person 
 he was generally represented to be ? To 
 all of which I in turn replied that to 
 me he seemed an extremely amiable young 
 man, and that I already discredited a
 
 1 50 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 good half of the rumours which had 
 reached us concerning him. 
 
 '' Ah, Sis," cried he, looking at me in 
 his shrewd way, and I do believe the boy 
 was uncannily shrewd, '' you must be 
 careful, you know." 
 
 " Careful," I replied, assuming a look of 
 innocence, '' careful of what ? " 
 
 He smiled roguishly as he answered, 
 ** Women, like moths, are attracted by 
 glitter. The Marguerite scruples vanish 
 in the glare of the Faust-like dia- 
 monds." 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " I ex- 
 claimed, trying to look indignant and 
 feeling that I was playing my part ex- 
 ceedingly ill. *' What do you know about 
 women ? " 
 
 ** Great men were living before Aga- 
 memnon," quoted he with an impish look. 
 ** I have read, my sister." 
 
 " Filled your head with a lot of rub- 
 bish," said I. 
 
 " Not all rubbish, either," says he with 
 a tantalizing look. '' But come, tell me
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 151 
 
 some more about this wonderful crea- 
 ture." 
 
 " I will tell you nothing," said I. " You 
 are laughing at me." 
 
 " Not at you, Flos ; only with you." 
 
 *' Then if you will kindly tell me where 
 the joke comes in, I shall be glad to laugh 
 too," I answered, rather crossly. 
 
 " Really," he said, " one would think I 
 had been trying to shatter a day-dream ; 
 I who live in dreams, and by dreams, and 
 with dreams. And Maud — did you ^ee 
 her ? " 
 
 '' Yes." 
 
 " Well, would you mind telling me 
 what you think of her ? " 
 
 '' Ask Will," said I. " He seemed to 
 be not a little impressed with what he saw." 
 
 " Is that so, Will, old fellow ? " cried 
 he to that young giant, who was walking 
 pensively up and down with a pipe in his 
 mouth — for he had now been smoking 
 before father for the last six months. 
 
 " What's that ? " says the giant, emit- 
 ting a huge cloud of smoke from his jaws.
 
 152 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 " Flos tells me tliat you were not a little 
 impressed witli a certain young lady to 
 whom you were recently introduced." 
 
 " Eh, what ? " says Will, looking a little 
 confused. '' Oh, yes. A clinker, Harry, 
 by George ! Such a face, and figure, and 
 style ! By George, that's what I call 
 style. Thorough-bred all over." 
 
 *' Beats Polly Lane ? " suggested Harold 
 in his quiet way. 
 
 " A baker's hack and a Cup winner," 
 says "Will. 
 
 " She is beautiful, then ? " 
 
 *' Isn't she, by George ! " 
 
 That "by George" of Will's ex- 
 pressed a lot, though I always considered 
 it showed a decided lack of imagination. 
 Yet the way he rang the changes on 
 it, making it now tender, now furious, and 
 now singularly impressive, was, in itself, a 
 display of no mean order. These catch- 
 words, however, if they are apt to grow 
 monotonous, have this advantage over a 
 variety of epithets ; that whereas the 
 latter are often more forcible than polite,
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 153 
 
 the former retain their unaffected purity. 
 Thus, indirectly, is the person speaking, 
 and the person spoken to, benefited to an 
 appreciable extent, for the ears of the one 
 are never polluted, and the soul of the 
 other is never placed in jeopardy. 
 
 " I should like to see her," said 
 Harold. 
 
 " You'll write your finest poem after 
 you have seen her, take my word for it." 
 
 The poor poet smiled sadly. " What 
 have I to do with women ? " he said. 
 " They like men. Will." And he glanced 
 meaningly at his brother's splendid frame. 
 
 " Do you think they haven't a soul 
 above flesh and blood ? " says Will almost 
 indignantly. 
 
 " I try not to think about it, old fellow," 
 was the weary answer. " There is only 
 one woman for me, but she is a goddess, 
 and the ancients called her a muse." 
 
 " This one is a goddess too," said Will, 
 drawing seriously at his pipe. 
 
 " Smoke," said I, appropriately enough, 
 for I did not altogether relish the thought
 
 154 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 of any woman creeping in and cutting 
 me out. 
 
 '' Right, Sis," said Harold, " let us blow 
 it away like good children." And seizing 
 his crutches he arose and hobbled off down 
 the garden to indulge in a good think. 
 Poor little Harold ! Martyr-like he bore 
 his sufferings, and he was never known to 
 rail aloud at his destiny ; but when he 
 made use of such expressions as " They 
 like me7^, Will," there would come into 
 his eyes a look so full of anguish, of 
 wretchedness so unspeakable, that every 
 pulse within me used to palpitate with 
 pity. " Look at Will," he would say 
 sometimes, "as beautifully symmetrical 
 as the Apollo Belvedere" (of course he 
 had read all about those sort of things), 
 " while I — " It seemed as though even 
 he dared not express his own thought. 
 Not that I think he was envious of Will, 
 for the word " envy " conveys the meaning 
 of something despicable. We may yearn 
 for the crown of glory without wishing to
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 155 
 
 drag it from the head of our brother. 
 He would not rob Will of his strength, 
 though he might cry out against his own 
 ill-fortune. Yet I have often caught his 
 eye wandering over his brother's form 
 with an intensity absolutely painful. In 
 those moments I knew a very volcano of 
 desire burnt luridly beneath that frail 
 earthly shell, only the glare of which 
 shone out through his wonderful eyes ; 
 bright lightning flashes which seared 
 with fire the dark background of his lite. 
 What he suffered then no earthly tongue 
 could tell. Such moments, known only to 
 himself, made life well-nigh intolerable. 
 " At such a time," said he, '' I too, like 
 Job of old, could curse God and die." 
 
 On the second day after the funeral 
 Captain Langton and his sister rode over 
 to Granite Creek, and as their arrival was 
 totally unexpected they rather upset our 
 little household. I know I was taken 
 utterly by surprise, for hearing the clatter 
 of hoofs and the barking of dogs I rushed
 
 156 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 out on the verandah with my big cook's 
 apron on (for I was making a quince and 
 apple pie at the time — a delicacy, especial- 
 ly when prepared by me, which was much 
 appreciated by the family), and found 
 myself face to face with our distinguished 
 visitors. I suppose I blushed deeply — 
 I know I felt very confused — but as a 
 retreat in order was out of the question, 
 I faced the four gleaming guns (of eyes) 
 with what dignity I could command. 
 After all, the making of a quince and 
 apple pie was not a very heinous offence. 
 I know many people who would not think 
 the eating of it too severe an ordeal. 
 
 '' I'm afraid your dogs regard us with 
 suspicion. Miss Hastings," said he, still 
 sitting his horse and smiling as though 
 he thoroughly enjoyed the clatter. " Are 
 they very dangerous ?" 
 
 " Not in the least," I answered, whip- 
 ping off the apron and stealthily wiping 
 the flour from my hands as I spoke. And 
 then with sundry fierce flutterings of the 
 aforementioned apron I succeeded in driv-
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 157 
 
 iug the obstreperous quadrupeds in the 
 direction of the stable. 
 
 He then laughingly helped his sister to 
 dismount, and they both followed me on 
 to the verandah where mother and Harold 
 soon joined us. Then tea was ordered in 
 due course, and before we had got half- 
 way through it Will turned up looking 
 as spick and span as though he were going 
 to church. Harold gave me a quiet look, 
 for he had a sly sort of humour, notwith- 
 standing his perennial martyrdom, and I 
 began to grin. The Captain, whose eyes 
 seemed to be ever on me, after watching 
 me for a few moments with a singularly 
 curious look, requested me to explain the 
 cause of my merriment ; but as I could 
 not put old Will away by informing them 
 what his occupation had been half an hour 
 before, I excused myself by declaring I 
 didn't know why I was laughing, a con- 
 fession which threw the party into spon- 
 taneous laughter. 
 
 "This is what I call jolly," said the 
 Captain as he drained his fourth cup of
 
 158 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 tea. '^I have an idea, Mrs. Hastings, 
 that yon will be seeing a lot of Mand and 
 me dnring the next few weeks." 
 
 Mother, of conrse, said she would be 
 delighted to see them whenever they 
 could spare the time to call. 
 
 *' Thank you," he said, evidently appre- 
 ciating her courtesy and kindness. '' You 
 don't know how pleasant it is to find such 
 friends in our trouble. I am sorry to say 
 that Maud and I are little better than 
 strangers here, but I assure you that we 
 seriously mean to atone for our past sins 
 by a most rigid penance." 
 
 "I should think you would find plenty 
 to occupy you now without the penance," 
 suggested Will. 
 
 " Tm afraid you're right. And the 
 worst of it all is, I have no head for 
 business. Mackenzie almost plagued me 
 to death yesterday with one confounded 
 thing and the other. A week of it and I 
 shall be a raving madman." 
 
 "By George," said Will, "I know 
 plenty of fellows who would like to
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 159 
 
 risk being driven mad in the same 
 way." 
 
 The Captain smiled and appealed to 
 me for support, but as I could not under- 
 stand a man thinking it too much trouble 
 to look after his own interests, I am 
 afraid my support was of an injurious 
 nature. 
 
 " And how do you think the old place 
 looks^?" said mother, turning to Maud. 
 *' Had you forgotten it at all ?" 
 
 '' No — that is, I don't think so. You 
 know I spent some very unpleasant years 
 in it, and unpleasant things are the ones 
 which we do not easily forget." She 
 spoke in the same placid, unemotional 
 manner. Whether she described some 
 interesting event, or an event of no 
 interest, her voice underwent no marked 
 inflection. It was slow, measured, and 
 remarkably pure, but as void of all 
 enthusiasm as she appeared to be. Will 
 called it " style," I thought of it not quite 
 so flatteringly. 
 
 ** Maud finds the old place very lonely,"
 
 i6o The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 said her brother, coming quickly to her 
 rescue, he being not slow to perceive that 
 the effect of her speech upon us was any- 
 thing but satisfactory. "You see," and 
 here his voice became duly solemn, " one 
 might say that the shadow of our dear 
 father is still in the house. Of course I 
 know that we shall get over it in time, 
 but there is no denying that death is a 
 mysterious and a solemn thing." 
 
 With all of which mother entirely 
 agreed, taking it in as some new truth ; 
 but she was a good soul, God bless her, 
 and gave everyone credit for being as 
 good as herself. 
 
 " You must be very lonely ?" she said. 
 
 "You are right, Mrs. Hastings," was 
 the quick reply. " Not that the loneliness 
 will particularly affect me, as I shall have 
 so much to do ; but poor Maud — I really 
 don't know what's to become of her." 
 
 "Oh, I shall go melancholy mad, I 
 suppose," drawled Maud in her sweet 
 voice ; " or take to jumping fences and 
 fancying myself a kangaroo."
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. i6i 
 
 At this sally we all laughed, sadly I 
 thought, though by the way old Will 
 grinned as he devoured her (metaphori- 
 cally) he must have regarded it as some- 
 thing excruciatingly clever. 
 
 " I hope it won't be as bad as that," 
 said mother with one of her gentle smiles. 
 
 " There's no knowing what will happen 
 in a place like this," replied the Captain 
 solemnly. ''Now if you would only 
 permit Miss Hastings to come over and 
 stay with us for a couple of weeks you 
 would be doing two benighted Christians 
 a charitable action." 
 
 '' Do come, dear," pleaded Maud in her 
 placid voice. " I promise you that we 
 shall be as jolly as we can under the cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 " Would you like to go ? " said mother, 
 regarding me fondly. 
 
 " Oh, yes," I answered, and in fact the 
 invitation offered a change at which one 
 in my aimless condition would be inclined 
 to jump. 
 
 " Then that's as good as settled," cried 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1 62 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 Captain Fred. " When can you be ready 
 — to-morrow ? '' 
 
 I said I thought so, and it was then 
 decided that he should come over in the 
 afternoon and drive me back. Then our 
 little party broke up, though before the 
 Langtons departed the Captain issued a 
 general invitation to the Hastings family 
 — a standing order, he called it, being a 
 military man — which set forth that at 
 any time there was a knife and fork at 
 the table and a horse in the stable for any 
 member of the aforesaid family. 
 
 '* You, at any rate," he said, turning to 
 Will, '' won't forget that one of the best 
 jumpers in the country is at your disposal." 
 
 Old Will positively, beamed with plea- 
 sure. " I'm not likely to forget that," he 
 said. 
 
 " I see you're a sportsman," laughed 
 the Captain. " We can depend on you." 
 
 '' You mustn't disappoint us, Mr. Hast- 
 ings ! " It was Maud who spoke, opening 
 wide her languid eyes for the first time 
 and looking right up into his.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 163 
 
 ** No/' lie said," you may depend upon 
 that." 
 
 And then they walked away together, 
 and I could see her laughing and looking 
 up into his face, while he, poor old fellow, 
 simply devoured her. 
 
 " How good of you to come," said 
 Captain Langton, for he and I walked in 
 the wake of the other two. " You can't 
 imagine the great boon you are about to 
 confer on us." 
 
 " Oh," I said, '^ it is you who are to.be 
 thanked for offering me the invitation." 
 
 '' Then you don't get much change 
 here ? " he asked. 
 
 '' Change ! " I exclaimed, laughing at 
 the suggestion, " We have no such word." 
 
 " How horrible." 
 
 '' I suppose it seems so to you who are 
 used to " — I was about to say something 
 which was better left unsaid — " used to 
 the life of big cities," I added. '^ But to 
 me, who have been accustomed to nothing 
 but the bush, it does not seem so terrible." 
 
 '' No doubt. I suppose it's all what 
 M 2
 
 164 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 one's accustomed to. But have you never 
 thought of the life that is led in big cities, 
 nor wished to share it ? " 
 
 " I should think that has been the wish 
 of most country people at some time or 
 other ; but we are very stupid here, you 
 know, and often fancy that we are as well 
 off as our brothers of the cities." 
 
 " I daresay you are," he replied. " At 
 any rate, to know when you are well off is 
 a happiness given to few. I would to 
 heaven I had been contented to live as my 
 father lived before me. I should have 
 been spared many a sorrow and many a 
 regret." 
 
 And this was the man whom rumour 
 had painted i'n such extraordinary colours ! 
 I felt quite maternal as I said, '' I am 
 sorry for you if you have suffered, but 
 don't you think that we bring half our 
 misery on ourselves ? " 
 
 '' That's it," he said, as though the 
 thought had driven home a newly-dis- 
 covered truth, '' that's just it. But we 
 are blind and stupid and cannot learn."
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 165 
 
 '' Will not, you mean." 
 
 ^' That's near it," lie said with a smile. 
 '* I was putting it mildly." 
 
 "You live a lot in town?" said I, 
 beginning in turn to question him, my 
 curiosity running away with my discretion 
 upon the discovery that this terrible 
 Lothario was after all not such a very 
 terrifying person. Indeed, could I have 
 banished the thought that he was the 
 owner of the vast Langton estate, the gay 
 Don Juan of our gossip, I am sure I 
 should have detected no sign or trade- 
 mark of his supposed calling. To me he 
 seemed to be getting on in years (he could 
 not have been less than three-and-thirty) ; 
 but that period of man's life has a unique 
 fascination for girls of my green days. 
 He is yet young enough to love and old 
 enough to have lived ; has none of the 
 peevishness of old or middle age, nor none 
 of the insipidity of the callow youth. He 
 is a masterful mystery, and all women 
 love mysteries. 
 
 He looked at me before replying, a look
 
 i66 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 which said as plainly as a look can, 
 '' What are you driving at ?" He, how- 
 ever, answered carelessly enough, '' Yes, 
 a good deal. But, of course, I shall alter 
 all that now. Then I was only the heir." 
 
 "' Shall you bring any of your racehorses 
 up for the meet ? " I asked next, for our 
 race-meeting was due shortly now, and 
 Will had put me up to getting a good tip 
 if I possibly could. 
 
 '' I shall win everything worth win- 
 ning," he said, '' for I mean to bring old 
 Bounder up." 
 
 " What, Bounder who ran second in 
 the last Cup ? " 
 
 " Yes, confound him ! He'll have to 
 make amends for the trick he played me 
 then." 
 
 '' I was sorry to hear that you had lost 
 so much," said I, growing quite confi- 
 dential. 
 
 " How did you know that ? " he asked 
 with an amused smile. 
 
 " Oh," I replied, " we always hear of the 
 doings of great personages."
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 167 
 
 " The gossips honour me," he said. 
 *' I had no idea my doings interested any- 
 one but myself." 
 
 ''And the bookmakers," I laughed, for 
 I'm afraid I was not behind the door with 
 my sauce-box. 
 
 He too laughed, and I noticed then that 
 the skin about his eyes puckered rather 
 ominously, though the eyes were decidedly 
 handsome, and declared that he had not 
 thought of encountering such cunning in 
 Arcadia ; but what else he might have 
 said remains a mystery, for at that 
 moment "Will came shouting after us, and 
 on turning round, we discovered that we 
 had, unconsciously, strolled away from the 
 other pair. 
 
 " Miss Langton wants to know if you 
 are going to walk home ? " bawled Will, 
 who stood some fifty yards away. 
 
 '' No," shouted the Captain as he 
 waved his hand — a signal of dismissal 
 which Will immediately acted upon, for 
 without another word away he darted on 
 the return journey. '' I should like to.
 
 1 68 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 though," continued my companion as he 
 tried hard to look into my face, an 
 attempt which I frustrated by coquettishly 
 turning my head aside, '' if you would 
 walk it with me." 
 
 " Why, it's over five miles," said I. 
 
 " Yes," said he, " I believe it is." And 
 by the tone of his voice I knew he was 
 wondering if I were really a fool. 
 
 We slowly retraced our steps to the 
 gate where Will and Maud awaited us, 
 she seated on her horse, he standing by 
 its head. She was evidently not a little 
 annoyed at having been forced to wait, 
 though her young Titan was there to bask 
 in the glory of her countenance, if it so 
 pleased her refulgence to turn on him. 
 She seemed to smile rather amusedly as 
 we strolled up. 
 
 '' I thought you were lost," she said, 
 " like the Babes in the Wood." 
 
 " I am not certain that we should not 
 have been if left to my own resources," 
 replied her brother. 
 
 '' You couldn't lose Flos anywhere
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 169 
 
 •within fifty miles of Granite Creek," 
 said old Will, blundering like the big idiot 
 that he was. 
 
 Brother and sister smiled. 
 
 "That's lucky," she said. "I wish 
 you could say the same for me. To- 
 morrow, Flossie, remember. Fred will 
 come over some time in the afternoon. 
 Good-bye, Mr. Hastings. You will come 
 and see us soon, will you not ? " 
 
 What Will said, I didn't quite catch, 
 but I saw her look into his face with eyes 
 that burnt into his eyes, setting fire to the 
 powder-train of his soul. He took her 
 daintily-gloved fingers in his great brown 
 hand, and I felt that he was holding them 
 rather long, longer, in fact, than common 
 courtesy warrants ; for I had an instinc- 
 tive recollection at the time that the 
 Captain was doing much the same by my 
 own hand, which he further engaged by 
 pressing affectionately. No doubt Will 
 was similarly occupied. There is a won- 
 derful uniformity about human nature, 
 though it is surprising that in this blase
 
 1 70 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 world these finger-pressings, siglis and 
 burning looks never go out of fashion. 
 Perennial, sun-like, they rise and set 
 through time towards eternity, and mark 
 a day. When Eve had eaten of the Tree 
 of Knowledge and saw the first fiery look 
 of wonder in Adam's eyes, she trembled, 
 and her newly- awakened soul leapt up 
 in her eyes, and she hiew. And ever 
 since then the sons and the daughters of 
 men have likewise looked and known ; 
 and with the new sun the new fire is 
 kindled, and that which was born in Eden 
 no time shall sweep away. 
 
 We didn't speak much as we walked 
 back to the house, both being, 1 take it, 
 just a little preoccupied. A new thing 
 had come suddenly into our lives, without 
 warning, as it were, and we were not yet 
 accustomed to it. At least I was not, and 
 I think that poor old Will was even more 
 agitated than I. There could be no doubt 
 of his admiration for Maud Langton, 
 whereas my feelings, I flatter myself, were 
 not so apparent. It is true I felt
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 171 
 
 honoured in a sort of way, for how could 
 a poor vain girl help feeling flattered at 
 the attentions of this young Croesus ? It 
 is silly, I know, for no man can honour 
 a good woman. Oh, that women would 
 only remember it ! Yet there can be no 
 denying that we do make ourselves cheap, 
 more's the pity. And so I felt honoured 
 (poor fool) and not a little terrified, and 
 T began to dream and hope and fear, like 
 the mad thing that I was. Ah, me, it 
 requires an effort to make these confes- 
 sions. It is like swinging one's heart in 
 the air for every passer-by to laugh at ; 
 pricking one's soul with innumerable pin 
 points of conscience. And yet this self- 
 inflicted torture is not without its reward. 
 That the heart is not better for having 
 bled is a false thing, for even with the 
 setting down of these petty follies I 
 seem to purge myself of many a little 
 sin. 
 
 Harold was still in his chair as we once 
 more mounted the verandah. 
 
 '' Where have you been ? " he cried.
 
 172 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 '* I thought you were never coming 
 back." 
 
 " Just down to the paddock," said "Will, 
 throwing himself in his big cane chair and 
 pulling out his pipe. 
 
 " I should have thought you had gone 
 farther," said he, looking meaningly at 
 his brother. 
 
 Will was not so dull either as to be 
 unable to see this. 
 
 " Should you," he said, with a laugh, 
 " and where should you think I had 
 gone ^ 
 
 " So far, old fellow, that you'll find it a 
 tough job to get back again." 
 
 *' That's the worst of you poets," said 
 "Will, with a humorous twinkle in his 
 eyes, "you have such awful imaginations. 
 By-the-way, Harry, show us the sonnet." 
 
 '' Sonnet ! " exclaimed Harold. 
 
 *' Yes," said Will, laughingly, '' the one 
 you have written to her during our 
 absence." 
 
 *' Do you mean Miss Langton ? " 
 
 '* Who else could inspire you ?"
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 173 
 
 '' Oh," said Harold, quietly, " I could 
 not write a poem to Miss Langton. It 
 would be like pouring cold water down my 
 own back." 
 
 '' Not a very poetic simile," says Will, 
 rather off-handed. 
 
 '' Nor a poetic subject." 
 
 " A true poet ought to be able to gush 
 about any subject." 
 
 " So he can — if he choose. But how 
 did you like the Captain, Will ? " 
 
 " You'd better ask Flos," said he, thils 
 turning the tables on me : and evidently 
 not wishing to undergo any more of 
 Harold's cross-questioning, he arose from 
 his seat, lit his pipe and marched off. 
 
 That was one of Will's good points. 
 He liked us so well that nothing could in- 
 duce him to quarrel with us. When the 
 storm began rumbling in the distance, and 
 the horizon grew black and threatening, 
 he prepared for the deluge by disappearing 
 beneath his metaphorical umbrella. 
 
 '^I hope the poor fellow's not smitten," 
 said Harold, after watching his brother's
 
 I 74 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 tall figure disappear round the corner of 
 the house. " He's much too good to be 
 made a fool of." 
 
 '' "Why should he be made a fool?" I 
 asked, as much for my own sake as for 
 his. 
 
 " Because he's not for her, nor she for 
 him." 
 
 "I'm sure he's good enough for any 
 woman," said I, once more trying to 
 improve my own position. 
 
 " But remember who she is and what 
 we are." 
 
 ''If I thought that would make any 
 difference," I exclaimed, growing mightily 
 flushed, " I would not go near their place 
 to-morrow." And yet I almost repented 
 the words as soon as they were uttered. 
 
 " I am not certain that wouldn't be the 
 wiser course to adopt. There, there, don't 
 think I'm always finding fault. Blame 
 rather this unfortunate affliction which 
 forces me to sit and think while the rest 
 of the world is up and doing. Forgive 
 me, dearest, won't you ? " The tears
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 175 
 
 were flashing in his great eyes as he 
 looked up at me, holding out his arms. 
 
 "What have I to forgive?" I said. 
 But as I hid my face against his I am 
 not so sure that my tears did not mingle 
 with his too.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 About three o'clock on the following 
 afternoon Captain Langton drove up to 
 the house in a dashing mail phaeton, the 
 like of which had never been seen at 
 Granite Creek. Indeed I doubt if such a 
 turn-out had ever been seen before in that 
 part of the country, for his father was 
 never ostentatious, and there was no one 
 else who could have afforded such a 
 luxury. I could not help thinking of Mr. 
 Wallace and his new wagonette, and how 
 envious he would be when he saw this 
 magnificent affair with its pair of high 
 steppers, and its groom in the back seat 
 with his folded arms. 
 
 '' By George," said "Will, for the whole 
 family had come out on the verandah to 
 see the show, " the Captain does it in
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, ij^ 
 
 style, and no mistake. What a grand 
 pair, by George ! Did you ever see such 
 action, Flos ? And look at that servant ! 
 Well, this is something like, you know ! " 
 — etc. 
 
 At that moment the carriage entered 
 the gateway and the Captain dashed 
 round the semicircular path which led to 
 the door, and pulled up before us with a 
 suddenness which brought the horses 
 back with a tremendous clatter. Then 
 the servant, who all this time had sat as 
 impressive and impenetrable-looking as 
 the Sphinx, suddenly jumped from his 
 seat with an alacrity most astonishing and 
 darted to the horses' heads. 
 
 Captain Langton then alighted and 
 came towards us, the same affable smile 
 on his good-looking face. 
 
 "Is our passenger ready ? " he asked, 
 after formally shaking hands with all the 
 members of the family. 
 
 ''Quite," said Will, ''though I'm 
 afraid her box won't add to the dignity 
 of your turn out." 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 The Confessions of a Cttrrency Girl, 
 
 The Captain thought this an excellent 
 jest, though I failed to see it in the same 
 light, for my box was an old cumbersome 
 wooden one which mother had brought out 
 with her from England twenty-five years 
 before. Will, however, lumped it out on 
 his back with as much pride as though he 
 were carrying the crown jewels of his late 
 serene Majesty, the Great Mogul, though 
 I thought I saw the nose of the sphinx- 
 like groom elevate itself the eighth part 
 of an inch, as his eyes encountered the 
 ancient structure. Servants have an 
 unspeakable horror of poverty. They 
 despise the " honest poor " more cordially 
 than did ever a Roman his slaves, and, 
 unless their master's purse be full, feel 
 even for him a contempt which borders 
 on the despicable. I didn't at all mind 
 the master seeing my shabby trunk, but 
 the servant made me feel uneasy. 
 
 At last, after having kissed and said 
 good-bye to my dear ones, I mounted the 
 phaeton. Captain Langton first helping 
 me to do so, then springing to my side
 
 The Confessions of a Ctirrency GirL 1 79 
 
 the moment after ; the groom stepped 
 back from the horses' heads, the Captain 
 shook the reins and away we started at a 
 rare pace. For the first few moments all 
 was excitement, and then, strangely 
 enough, I thought of the servant, whom 
 I felt sure we had left behind in our 
 hurried departure. On turning round, 
 however, I beheld that worthy individual 
 seated in the same grim fashion, looking 
 for all the world as though he had never 
 left the seat. ^ 
 
 But in the meantime Captain Langton 
 was regulating the pace of his team, a 
 task which required no little patience 
 as well as tact, for the horses were in 
 tremendous fettle and carried on like a 
 couple of kittens. By degrees, however, 
 he broke them into a steady trot, and while 
 we bowled along through the fresh, 
 sweet-smelling air, I all aglow with 
 excitement and the novelty of the situa- 
 tion, he talked to me of many things of 
 no particular interest, though I recollect 
 thinking that the tones of his voice would 
 K 2
 
 i8o The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 make any subject interesting. And when 
 he looked into my face in his strange, 
 half-melancholy way, and told me that 
 the drive had brightened my eyes, and 
 added a wonderful bloom to my cheeks, 
 there was so much respectful adoration in 
 his gaze that my foolish heart began to 
 beat wildly, and my pulses to throb as 
 though some new electric fluid had 
 entered into my blood. 
 
 At last we passed through the big 
 white gates which gave access to the 
 broad drive which led by a circuitous 
 route to the big house, before the door of 
 which we eventually pulled up. In a 
 moment the servant was in his old 
 position at the horses' heads ; then I was 
 helped down by my companion, who led me 
 up on to the verandah where stood his 
 sister Maud, a rather melancholy figure 
 in her deep black dress. 
 
 " Welcome to Langton," said he, as my 
 feet touched the topmost step of the 
 verandah. 
 
 '' Welcome," repeated his sister, coming
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. i8i 
 
 forward and kissing me. " You don't 
 know how glad I am to see you, dear," 
 slie went on affectionately, slipping her 
 arm about my waist and leading me into 
 the house. '' I do hope you won't find 
 the old place very dull." 
 
 '' I am sure I shall not," was my reply, 
 '' for a place would have to be very dull 
 indeed to seem so to me." 
 
 '' It's very gratifying to hear you say 
 so, dear. Of course we shall be buried 
 alive, but as the tomb is a commodious 
 one we shall have plenty of time to 
 explore it. We can ride, you know," she 
 went on, as though it were necessary that 
 she should make apologies to me, '^ and 
 indulge in sundry other little innocent 
 amusements, but father's death will 
 prevent us keeping anything like open 
 house." 
 
 And yet there was always somebody in 
 the house, either a squatter friend or a 
 boon companion from Melbourne, and I 
 don't think we three, that is, Maud, her 
 brother and I, had more than a dozen
 
 1 82 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 meals by ourselves during the whole 
 period of my visit. Certainly, it was the 
 most singular house of mourning I ever 
 entered, and though everybody declared, 
 as in duty bound, that the shade of 
 the deceased still hovered in the air, it 
 being imperceptible troubled us but 
 little. 
 
 Langton Station was generally ac- 
 counted one of the finest properties 
 in the Wimmera District, and it was 
 currently reported that the late Mr. 
 Langton had left over a million in hard 
 cash. But be that as it may, the run was 
 known to be a highly prosperous one, and 
 no one dreamt of doubting the truth of 
 the statement. It (the run) stretched for 
 miles and miles through the best grassed, 
 best watered parts of the district, and 
 afforded excellent pasturage for the 
 countless flocks and herds which rambled 
 over its vast surface ; and I have often 
 heard father say that the Langton wool 
 was always the best in the market, so that 
 the owner's income, in good seasons, must
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 183 
 
 have been an extremely handsome one, 
 even in these days of gigantic fortunes. 
 
 The house itself was not one suitable to 
 the estate on which it was built, being a 
 long, low rambling place, half wood, half 
 granite, though it was so embowered with 
 creepers of every description that it would 
 require a more than superficial glance to 
 discover where the one ended or the other 
 began. A broad verandah, screened with 
 roses, grape-vines, and the beautiful Vir- 
 ginia creeper, tr.i versed three sides of the 
 house, and here we always had tea of an 
 afternoon, or dinner if it were too hot to 
 stay in doors. Let the sun be never so 
 warm, behind this thick screen of leaves 
 the atmosphere was invariably delightful, 
 and Maud and I used to lounge about on 
 the easy chairs in very thin attire, drinking 
 cool drinks or pecking at grapes and 
 peaches. It was all a new delightful life 
 to me. At first it seemed a little strange 
 to be surrounded with every luxury, to 
 have nothing to do but lie in the shade, 
 eat peaches and read novels ; to ring a
 
 1 84 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 bell when one wanted one's shoes, and 
 not even have to brush the dust from 
 one's own habit. 
 
 But I think there is no creature on earth 
 so quickly adapts itself to circumstances 
 as a woman. In three days I was as much 
 at home as though I had been born to the 
 life ; in a week I had caught Maud's 
 languid tones. For this, however, I was 
 duly thankful, for she spoke beautifully, 
 with a voice as soft as some dream-melody. 
 When I got to know her better I didn't 
 wonder at poor old Will's blind tumble 
 into the intricate meshes of love's net. 
 Had I been a man I believe I would have 
 loved her for her voice alone. In this, I 
 am well aware that I, indirectly, pay my- 
 self an extravagant compliment, but my 
 candour compels me to admit, though it 
 puts my modesty to the blush, that I have 
 been told by persons of the sterner sex 
 much of this which I have written con- 
 cerning Maud. Oh, vanity of vanities ! 
 I may well laugh at these things now, for 
 my eyes are open and I see ; but in our
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 185 
 
 young days, in the spring of life when all 
 the trees are covered with their fresh 
 green leaves, and new emotions sprout 
 continually in the garden of our breast, 
 we gather all these sweet things in our 
 arms, nor stay to think that the weeds and 
 flowers grow side by side. In those days 
 no grim phantasies baulk the way to en- 
 joyment. All is real and all is marvellous. 
 Were it not for the price we pay for 
 ignorance, what happy days we might call 
 them. • • 
 
 And here another thought intrudes 
 itself. As the little gods of our own small 
 worlds, why should we not, like the greater 
 gods, expect some sign of adoration, or, 
 like the one Great Grod, demand it ? For 
 if it is pleasing to us, is it not also pleas- 
 ing to Him, of whom we are the visible 
 form, the divinity made manifest ? I take 
 it there is something more than mere 
 vulgar conceit in our love of what we call 
 admiration. Our blood tingles, our eyes 
 flash like heaven's own stars, and we tread 
 with feet of air over the roughest road ;
 
 1 86 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 but it ennobles us at the same time ac- 
 cording to our natures, and if it fill the 
 soul of one with petty pride, even that 
 raises him into regions he had never 
 hitherto trod, and makes of him, too, a 
 symbol of divinity. " We touch heaven 
 when we lay our hands on a human 
 body." Perhaps the thought is not all a 
 dream. 
 
 The days sped pleasantly enough at 
 Langton, despite the fact that it was a 
 house of mourning. After breakfast we 
 usually went for our ride, the Captain 
 invariably accompanying us ; in the after- 
 noon we drove, if we felt so inclined and 
 the day was not too oppressive : other- 
 wise we lounged about in our sweet do- 
 nothing way. Maud improved greatly on 
 acquaintance, though she still retained a 
 certain coldness, as part of her nature, 
 which was not at all times agreeable. Still, 
 if you could remember that she meant 
 nothing by it, and take her indifferent 
 qualities along with her good ones, you 
 would find her strike a very even balance.
 
 The Confessions of a Cttrrency GirL 187 
 
 Slie was consistently charming, always 
 affable, though to me it seemed a conscious 
 affability ; yet I doubt if she had ever 
 before exerted herself to please anyone to 
 the same extent. And yet, in spite of all 
 her coldness and seeming indifference, I 
 knew she was a vain woman and as fond 
 of admiration as any of us poor creatures ; 
 and I often thought she merely suffered 
 old Will to wait on her simply to please 
 her vanity. She had been much spoilt, 
 that I could see, and looked upon the ador- 
 ation of men as her unassailable right. 
 I am afraid, however, that I never pro- 
 perly appreciated Will's servile submission. 
 Another man, another thousand men, 
 might have bowed the knee to her in 
 grovelling adoration without my thinking 
 the proceeding in any way derogatory to 
 their natures ; but when it came to my 
 own brother it altered the complexion of 
 things. She must indeed be an excellent 
 woman who can pass the critical exami- 
 nation of an embryo sister-in-law. 
 
 Captain Langton, on the other hand,
 
 1 88 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 had none of his sister's hauteur or cold- 
 ness, but was unaffectedly genuine, 
 making one believe that he thought little 
 of his vast wealth and enviable position. 
 Always considerate and courteous, and 
 exceptionally so to me, he seemed to be- 
 long to a world of which I was entirely 
 ignorant. I had read of men studying to 
 please, living, as it were, only for the 
 sake of obeying a woman's behests ; but 
 hitherto my experience had led me into 
 that groove where men and women are 
 alike expected to look after themselves. 
 My every suggestion was obeyed with an 
 alacrity which was quite embarrassing ; 
 no wish nor whim of mine was left un- 
 gratified, if it were possible to gratify it. 
 Nor would he listen to any remonstrance 
 on my part. 
 
 '^ You are here," he said one day, when 
 I complained of his zeal in attending to 
 my petty wants, '^ and while you are here 
 you must really permit me and mine to 
 devote ourselves to making your stay a 
 happy one."
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 189 
 
 ^' But I am really not accustomed to all 
 this luxury and consideration," I answered. 
 " It will entirely spoil me for the old life 
 at Granite Creek." 
 
 " I scarcely think so," he replied, look- 
 ing hard at me as he spoke, '' and if it 
 should, what would it matter ? You are 
 not likely to spend your life in this out-of- 
 the-way spot." 
 
 " Who can say ? And, after all, Wallan 
 is not such a bad place." 
 
 "I suppose not," he laughed; ''bi*fc it 
 is scarcely good enough for you." 
 
 I know the blood rushed to my face and 
 the fire to my eyes, but concealing, poorly 
 I must confess, the effect of his words 
 upon me, I said that Granite Creek had 
 always been my home, and that to me it 
 was the one dear spot in the universe. 
 '« You have been happy there ? " said he. 
 " Very happy.'' 
 
 '' Lucky indeed," he said, as though 
 speaking to himself. '' I, you see, have 
 never known what it was to enjoy the 
 blessings of home. My father, good man
 
 1 90 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 thougli he was, was narrow of soul and 
 could not understand the spirit which was 
 not cast in his own mould. My mother I 
 scarcely remember. But I think that I 
 too might have been different had she 
 been spared to me." 
 
 '' You have suffered, then ? " said I, for 
 there was so deep a tone of melancholy in 
 his voice that my heart rushed out to him. 
 
 He laughed gaily, or rather made a sad 
 attempt at gaiety. '' Of course I've 
 suffered. Who hasn't ? It is man's heri- 
 tage. A sad one, isn't it ? But you were 
 speaking of Granite Creek," said he, 
 suddenly reverting to the former subject, 
 as though he wished to avoid speaking of 
 his own sorrows. '^ Do you really think 
 you could be happy in such a place for 
 ever and ever ? Have you no wish to see 
 the world ? Have you never dreamt of 
 the wonders that lie out yonder waiting 
 for you to explore ? " And he waved his 
 hand as though embracing the earth and 
 heaven with his thoughts. 
 
 '' Oh, yes," was my reply, " for who is
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 191 
 
 there that is young who would not like to 
 travel ? Harold and I have many a long 
 talk about the wonderful cities of Europe ; 
 and he used to say that he would take me 
 to see them when he became famous. 
 Poor Harold ! " 
 
 '' Ah, then, I was not altogether wrong 
 in my surmises. Granite Creek, I have 
 no doubt, is a very beautiful place — a sort 
 of fairy oasis in this bush desert^but it 
 seems that we dream even there.'* 
 
 " Why should we not ? " • 
 
 " Why not indeed ? The mortal would 
 like to be an angel, and, if we could only 
 know the truth, I daresay we should find 
 the angel sighing to be a mortal. We 
 can't command our dreams, you know, 
 though I see no reason why such modest 
 ones as yours should not be fulfilled." 
 
 " They may be yet," said I half-saucily. 
 
 ''A beautiful woman," he replied, 
 ''need never dream idle dreams." And 
 though I knew not exactly what he 
 meant, I felt he wished me to understand 
 that he considered me beautiful ; and
 
 192 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 consequently many foolish emotions ran 
 riot in my breast. What did I not dream 
 as I lay there looking up into his hand- 
 some face and listening to his low serious 
 voice ? a voice which at times rang 
 almost as sweet as Maud's. There was 
 something wonderfully fascinating in it 
 all to a girl who had only been accustomed 
 to the very small mercies of the world ; 
 for I hold that however sincere the affec- 
 tion may be in itself, the more material 
 side of this fleshly spirit manifests itself 
 in all we think or feel. How many girls 
 are there, I wonder, who would not have 
 thought as I thought, felt as I felt ? 
 
 " Do you know," said he, looking down 
 into my eyes, '^ that I am thinking of 
 going to England next year ? " 
 
 " I did not know," I answered, trying 
 to look away from him and feeling as 
 though a dark cloud had shot suddenly 
 across the sun of my universe. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, watching me all 
 the time with a voracious look, '' I have 
 long had a wish to see the Old Country,
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 193 
 
 in fact, all tlie old great countries of 
 Europe, and I think it's about time I 
 gratified it." 
 
 '* You will have a pleasant trip,*' said 
 I, knowing not what else to say. '' Shall 
 you take Maud ?" 
 
 " I think not ; and as for the pleasant 
 trip, that will depend entirely upon who 
 accompanies me.'* 
 
 But just here, as the conversation was 
 taking a tender and confidential tone, ap.d 
 I was already beholding myself careering 
 through the famous cities of Europe with 
 a certain person by my side, our tete-a-tete 
 was broken in upon by Maud, who, how- 
 ever, no sooner saw the significant posi- 
 tion of our chairs than she stood still 
 looking inexpressibly stupid, hesitating 
 whether it would not be more politic to 
 
 A. 
 
 beat a hasty retreat. 
 
 " Excuse me, dear," she said, and she 
 looked singularly knowing as she spoke, 
 ''but I really didn't know." 
 
 '* Know ! " I echoed, feeling exceedingly 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 ^^^ Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 *' There is a visitor for you." 
 
 " A visitor," I cried, '* I wonder who 
 it can be ?" But at that moment, catch- 
 ing sight of Ella, I bounded from my 
 chair, leaving the Captain disconsolate, 
 and sprang into my friend's arms. It 
 was the first time I had seen her since 
 coming to Langton, and we had so much 
 to say to each other that I hastily carried 
 her off to my room under the pretence of 
 relieving her of her cloak and hat. 
 
 '' You have altered," she said, holding 
 me in her arms and kissing me as though 
 I had committed some fearful crime. 
 
 "Altered," I echoed with an affected 
 look of indifference. " How could I alter 
 in two weeks ?" 
 
 '' You have, all the same," she replied 
 in her quiet way, which always reminded 
 me so forcibly of Arthur. " You are not 
 the girl you were at Granite Creek." 
 
 I laughed at her, and kissed her, and 
 called her a foolish old thing, but I knew 
 all the time that she was speaking the 
 truth. In the light of the new day, the
 
 The Confessions of a Ctiri^ency GirL 195 
 
 past seemed like a confused, partly- 
 remembered dream. I liad drunk from 
 the cup of luxury and had given my soul 
 up to foolish dreams. I had looked above 
 my sun into the blue beyond, and the 
 mystic light there dazzled me. I could 
 not see. I was like one wrestling with 
 an invisible assailant. Yet into my spirit 
 was blown the breath of a new life, and 
 through my veins the blood coursed like 
 living drops of fire. 
 
 2
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Early tlie next morning Will rode over 
 to breakfast, looking as spick and span as 
 you please, for he, like myself, liad been 
 quick to take a hint, and, outwardly at 
 least, he had already begun to imitate 
 Captain Langton. He knew, poor fellow, 
 that women are captivated more by glitter 
 than quality, and I shrewdly suspect it 
 was with the hope of appearing to ad- 
 vantage before a certain young lady that 
 he had donned his best manners with his 
 new riding-suit. He certainly looked 
 capable of captivating any woman's heart, 
 and I marked with pleasure, for I had 
 grown mightily fastidious of late, that 
 when he spoke he pitched his voice in a 
 minor key and avoided using slang to any 
 great extent — to entirely avoid it would
 
 The Confessions of a Ctirrency GirL igy 
 
 be a sheer impossibility. Altogether I 
 was not displeased with the progress he 
 was making, and if I feared for the result 
 of his mad infatuation — as mad it most 
 certainly was — I yet had sufficient belief 
 in him to trust his strength of character 
 to see him through the trouble. That 
 Maud had any love for him, that is, such 
 love only as would satisfy his ardent 
 longing, I doubted, if not entirely dis- 
 believed. I did not think he was the sort 
 of man for her, for such women do not 
 value such hollow victories. It is no 
 pleasure to them to possess a slave ; 
 they require a master. I think she liked 
 him well — well enough to keep him 
 revolving round in her train of satellites 
 — but that she entertained for him an 
 affection of a serious nature I could not 
 credit. But he, poor old fellow, un- 
 conscious of aught but that she was the 
 most dainty and entrancing creature he 
 had ever seen, worshipped before her 
 shrine with blinded eyes, and a heart so 
 full of conflicting emotions that it drove
 
 198 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 everj other serious reflection from his 
 head. 
 
 It had previously been arranged that 
 we should picnic that day at a place 
 called Fern Tree Gully, an enchanting 
 spot some ten miles from the station, and 
 chiefly on this account Will had ridden 
 over as already stated. He, the Captain, 
 Maud, and I were to compose the party, 
 so immediately after breakfast we set 
 about preparing for the outing. First of 
 all we saw to the hamper, that most 
 necessary piece of baggage, and then 
 dispatched the sphinx-like groom on the 
 journey in a buggy. He was to drive to 
 a certain ruined hut on the borders of the 
 Gully and there prepare for our arrival. 
 
 And here I may as well confess that my 
 horror of that apparently taciturn person- 
 age had gradually yielded to a no 
 more offensive sentiment than that of 
 curiosity. At first he used to look at me 
 in a hard, quizzing sort of way, which I 
 at the time deemed impertinent, though 
 T pretended not to notice it ; yet when I
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 199 
 
 once happened to look closely into the 
 man's face I was surprised to see an 
 unmistakable look of pity in his eyes. 
 This, you may be sure, astonished me 
 considerably, and my curiosity getting 
 the better of my dignity, I waylaid him 
 one afternoon in the garden and entered 
 into conversation with him, thereby 
 hoping to discover what sort of fearful 
 wild-fowl he might be. But in him I 
 was greatly disappointed, for I foand him 
 a quite intelligent personage, though 
 profoundly depressed. He, however, 
 seemed to appreciate the honour I 
 conferred upon him, for he must have 
 exclaimed, " Thank you, miss," at least 
 a score of times during our short con- 
 versation. I also discovered that 
 originally he must have been intended 
 for a jovial fellow, for he had a pair 
 of the merriest little twinkling lights of 
 eyes that I have ever seen, and though 
 his face was decidedly ugly and as hard 
 as a piece of leather, his nose slightly 
 elevated out of the strict hne of beauty,
 
 200 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 tliere was a curve about the corners of 
 his ugly mouth which, I felt sure, 
 concealed a world of sly humour. What 
 brought him to his present doleful state I 
 had yet to learn, but I felt convinced 
 that Bobbie (for Bobbie Flaskett was the 
 gentleman's name) had some mighty 
 sorrow gnawing incessantly at his vitals. 
 
 At last we four got under weigh, all 
 mounted on the best blood in that part 
 of the country, and as we raced break- 
 neck over the long stretches of grass, 
 laughing and screaming to each other 
 like so many children let loose from 
 school, I could not help thinking that 
 there was no happier girl in the whole 
 world than I, or a more glorious or 
 exhilarating feeling than that of being 
 borne in a mad gallop through the fresh 
 air and the bright sunshine. 
 
 ''To the Withered Wattle," roared 
 Will, as he pointed to a big dead tree 
 which stood on a small eminence nearly 
 two miles ahead of us, and sitting down 
 on his great hunter he showed us the
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 201 
 
 way over the first fence of post and 
 rails. 
 
 Thud, thud, thud ! We were beside 
 him in a moment, and with faces set we 
 raced neck and neck like four demons. 
 Now it was a gully we dived into, now a 
 small creek we took with a flying leap ; 
 now a fallen tree, and now another great 
 fence of post and • rails. No matter what 
 the obstacle might be, we raced at it with 
 the reckless impetuosity of idiots, and 
 cleared it too as a kangaroo wouM a 
 water-hole. Oh, it was a mad gallop ! I 
 felt every nerve of me on fire ; my brain 
 was in a whirl, my eyes danced in my 
 head like a couple of mad things. My 
 hands involuntarily tightened on the 
 rein ; I cut my mare across the shoulders, 
 a swinging slash. And then I felt her 
 gather herself up as though she would 
 jump out of her skin, and away she tore 
 like a storm-cloud through the sky. I 
 shot by Will, whose weight was beginning 
 to tell on his mount, with a triumphant 
 wave of my whip ; drew up to Maud's
 
 202 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 crupper, tlien to lier girth, and after 
 a short sharp struggle left her behind as 
 well. But almost at the same moment I 
 heard the beat of hoofs on my right, and 
 on glancing round discovered Captain 
 Langton rapidly overhauling me. He 
 was evidently very much in earnest, and 
 was making his horse go for all it was 
 worth. He smiled defiantly as his eyes 
 met mine. '' I'll beat you," he shouted, 
 and pointed to the goal, now half a mile 
 away. I nodded acceptance of the 
 challenge and away we went neck and 
 neck. 
 
 He was mounted on a superb animal, 
 one that had pulled off more than one 
 steeplechase in and about Melbourne, but 
 I also was mounted on one of the best 
 cross-country horses in the Langton 
 stables, and moreover, I had a decided 
 advantage as regards weight. So away 
 we went, leaving the others farther and 
 farther behind with every stride. Oc- 
 casionally I stole a glance at him. He 
 was riding for dear life, a look of fierce
 
 The Confessions of a Curre7icy Girl. 203 
 
 determination on his face ; an aggravated 
 look, as though he did not relish the 
 thought of a girl giving him so much 
 trouble. That he meant to win, if it 
 were in man and horse to do it, was 
 unmistakable. And so I, too, entered 
 into the spirit of the conflict, and 
 determined to beat him at all hazards, for 
 it seemed to me the race I rode was 
 something more than a mere horse-race — 
 a symbol of that race which ends only 
 with life. I put my teeth together and 
 took a firmer grip of the reins. The 
 mare answered to the pressure nobly, and 
 in a moment I was quite half a length 
 ahead. I turned to him with a smile of 
 triumph — I couldn't help it — and our eyes 
 met. He looked downright cross, but I 
 was too set upon beating him to do 
 anything but smile at his anger. He 
 spurred his horse viciously forward till he 
 had recovered the lost ground, then 
 sullenly pointed ahead to the fence we 
 should have to clear before we had the 
 straight run home. I smiled in acknow-
 
 204 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 ledgment of his salute and eased my 
 mare a little. 
 
 The fence referred to could not, I 
 should think, have been less than five 
 feet, though most probably an inch 
 or two higher, and was built of such 
 heavy timber that it presented a really 
 formidable obstacle. However, we had 
 neither the time nor inclination to hang 
 back now. In a minute we were upon it, 
 and like two birds we rose at the self- 
 same moment. My mare's hind legs 
 rapped it loudly, but she fell on her feet 
 all right, and as he, too, had cleared it 
 without mishap there was only left the 
 stretch of a few hundred yards to the 
 withered tree. I saw him bend forward 
 and urge his great horse on with whip 
 and spur, and the fury of the race 
 entered my blood. I pressed my lips 
 firmly, muttering, '' I will beat him, 
 I will, I will," and I'm afraid that I, too, 
 whipped my beautiful mare somewhat 
 severely. But at such moments one does 
 not stay to think humanely. I only know
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 205 
 
 the mare threw up her head, pulling me 
 forward on her mane, and like an arrow 
 shot above the green grass. For a few 
 strides he kept pace with me,- then 
 gradually dropped behind. The up-hill 
 part of the journey was too much for 
 him. I sailed under the great withered 
 arms of the wattle, half-a-dozen lengths 
 ahead. 
 
 As I eased the mare he rode up to me. 
 
 " You were one too many for me this 
 time," he said, *' but I'll have my revenge, 
 never fear." 
 
 '' You'll have to train a little first," 
 said I, smiling all over, for I was flushed 
 with my victory and vastly delighted in 
 having thus beaten him. 
 
 Then up came Will and Maud, the 
 former's mount looking as though he 
 had had enough of the giant for one 
 day. 
 
 " A grand race, by George ! " said 
 "Will. "I'd give anything to be about 
 three stone lighter, so that I could keep 
 pace with you."
 
 2o6 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 ^' It would take the old gentleman 
 himself to keep pace with your sister," 
 said the Captain somewhat irritably in 
 spite of his smile. 
 
 '' She always was a terror over the 
 sticks/' Will answered. " I remember 
 when she was a bit of a kid — " and 
 here he was launching off into one 
 of his numerous reminiscences anent 
 my wondrous childhood — for he was 
 always devotedly attached to me, dear 
 old fellow, and never imagined it possible 
 that I could be anything but a source of 
 interest to everyone — when I pulled him 
 up sharply. 
 
 '' Don't be silly. Will. I could not have 
 won the race without the horse." 
 
 '' The horse is a clinker," he replied, 
 *'but so is the rider." That was the 
 worst of Will. He would have his say if 
 he died for it. 
 
 "I think you are right, Will," said 
 Captain Langton as he helped me to dis- 
 mount, for here we gave the horses a rest, 
 he and Will rubbing them down with dry
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 207 
 
 grass. ** Horse and rider are so thoroughly 
 in harmony with each other that it would 
 be a great pity if we ever separated them. 
 Do you think I could prevail upon you to 
 let Miss Hastings accept the mare ? She 
 beat me fairly and deserves the prize." 
 
 Will first looked at me, then at the 
 mare, and then at him. ''It's deuced 
 kind of you," he said, '' a splendid gift, by 
 George. I'm sure it would delight her 
 immensely. But the old man, you know 
 — he's rather queer about that sort • of 
 thing." 
 
 And so the dear old fellow blundered 
 and stuttered like a great booby ; but the 
 Captain only laughed and declared it 
 would be a thousand pities if the mare 
 and I ever parted company, and that he 
 would see to it that we did not. As for 
 me, I felt exceedingly uncomfortable, 
 more especially as I thought Maud was 
 laughing noiselessly at me all the time. 
 Her brother's open admiration was 
 scarcely to her liking, I think ; but for 
 that reason I need not have judged her
 
 2o8 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 harshly, considering how I had thought 
 of her and Will. 
 
 After a rest of some fifteen minutes we 
 all mounted once more and continued 
 our journey, this time like peaceable 
 Christians. Yet it was a grand jaunt, 
 when one comes to think of it, and one 
 which, I am sure, each member of that 
 little party will recollect to his dying day. 
 I can shut my eyes and hear the clatter 
 of the hoofs again, and feel the wind 
 beating upon my face and tugging at my 
 hair as though it wished to drag it from 
 my head. Now we are sweeping along 
 with a grand, far-stretching stride, now 
 skimming a creek, and now rising to the 
 grim unbending rails. And then a thud 
 as we land on the other side, and then 
 away again as though Satan were at our 
 heels. And how angry Captain Langton 
 looked when it was all over ; and how red 
 Will got with the exertion, and Maud — I 
 don't think she altogether relished my 
 victory, for if there was one thing upon 
 which she prided herself it was her horse-
 
 The Confessions of a Cur^^ency Girl. 209 
 
 mansliip. Languid and lazy as she was 
 under ordinary circumstances, she became 
 a changed women when seated on the 
 back of a horse. Then all the ice of her 
 nature grew warm with the blood of life ; 
 her eyes sparkled, her cheeks flushed. 
 At such moments I thought her the most 
 beautiful creature I had ever seen. I 
 couldn't be surprised at poor old Will's 
 infatuation, for after all he was only a 
 man, with all a man's faults and virtues, 
 and he hoped to win for himself this star 
 of the feminine firmament. 
 
 She, however, was extremely affable to 
 him to-day, and though I rode with Cap- 
 tain Langton I did not forget to cast an 
 eye on them occasionally, as a sister 
 should ; for I hold it to be the duty of a 
 sister to look well after the brother lest 
 some designing minx step in and lure him 
 from the path you would have him tread. 
 Will was radiant, all smiles and pretty 
 speeches, his blue eyes glistening in the 
 sunlight like two great precious stones — 
 precious stones indeed ! And she like- 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 2IO The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 wise appeared to be in a most amiable 
 mood, and I began to wonder if slie really 
 were getting to care for the genial giant 
 by her side. As for me, I was as happy 
 as a girl could be under such circum- 
 stances, and kept up a constant stream of 
 chatter with my companion, who quickly 
 forgot all about his defeat, till we arrived 
 at our destination. Here we were met 
 by Flaskett the groom, to whom we 
 handed our horses, and then, after we 
 had indulged in a little light refreshment, 
 we commenced our ascent of the Gully. 
 
 Between two bright green hills the 
 track ran up a gentle slope for a hundred 
 yards or so, which distance being satis- 
 factorily accomplished, we entered a 
 veritable fairy bower of greenery, the 
 beautiful yellow and green fronds stretching 
 above our heads like shimmering waves 
 of sunlight. On every hand the vegeta- 
 tion was so dense that it was impossible 
 to see more than a dozen yards to right 
 or left, though here and there the bright 
 sun above forced its beams into solemn-
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 211 
 
 looking crevices, lighting them up with a 
 radiance both rare and mysterious. No 
 sound broke the stillness of the scene, 
 save for the gentle ripple of the little 
 stream at our feet, the musical mother of 
 the great tree ferns whose roots, laved 
 with her sparkling kisses, sucked in the 
 nourishment which was their life. 
 
 " By George," gasped old Will, lost in 
 admiration at the grandeur surrounding 
 him, *' what a place ! Wouldn't poor 
 little Harry like to be here ?" 
 
 ** He is a poet, is he not ?" asked Maud, 
 though she knew well enough, I having 
 told her as much at least a score of 
 times. 
 
 " Eather," was the reply, and there 
 was no mistake about the exclamation 
 either. '' He's going to be the first great 
 Australian poet, poor little chap." 
 
 *' He hopes to be," said I, seeing her 
 smile quietly at his enthusiasm, and being 
 ready to take up arms on the slightest 
 provocation. 
 
 " Does he write poetry ?" she asked, 
 p 2
 
 212 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 ** Of course," said I indignantly. *' How- 
 could he be a poet if he didn't ?" 
 
 *' Oh !'* she answered. 
 
 " And good poetry too," said I, seeing 
 that her exclamation implied that all 
 poets do not necessarily write poetry, 
 though they dabble in verse — a fine hair- 
 splitting distinction with which I had no 
 patience. 
 
 '' He has been here, I suppose?" asked 
 the Captain. 
 
 " Yes, once — when he was a little 
 thing. Father carried him." 
 
 ''Poor little chap," said he quite 
 sympathetically, " he must come here 
 again." 
 
 " Ah, I'm afraid he cannot come now. 
 He's ever so much heavier." 
 
 " What of that, poor little chap. I'll 
 have a chair rigged up for him and get a 
 couple of my men to carry it. We won't 
 spoil the making of our first great poet 
 for the sake of a little trouble." 
 
 '' You are very good. Captain Langton. 
 If we only could manage to bring him
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 213 
 
 with us I know it would be giving him 
 one of the greatest pleasures of his life." 
 
 *' Would it not please you too P " he 
 asked in a low voice. 
 
 " Ah, wouldn't it ! He has been our 
 baby, you know, and we all do what we 
 can to make him happy." 
 
 Then upward we toiled once more, and 
 as he held my hand, for more reasons, I 
 am afraid, than helping me across the 
 little stream or pulling me up the steep 
 places, he talked much of Harold and his 
 prospects as a writer, wanted to know all 
 about what the boy had already done and 
 when he was going to publish, and let me 
 know that he was intimately acquainted 
 with many literary men in Melbourne 
 whose good opinion might be worth much 
 to a beginner. To all of this I listened 
 with a beating and a thankful heart, and if 
 I let my hand rest longer in his than was 
 absolutely necessary, or if my tongue 
 formed warmer words than, under 
 ordinary circumstances, it would have 
 done, it was for the sake of the poor
 
 214 ^^^ Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 dreamer who had set his soul upon clutch- 
 ing the gossamer wings of the fame-bird. 
 
 At last Maud came to a standstill and 
 declared that she would go no further ; 
 her boots were wet and her skirt covered 
 with mud (as indeed were mine, only I 
 had never thought of them) ; she failed 
 to see where the pleasure of such toil 
 came in, and thought it a piece of arrant 
 nonsense for four apparently sane people 
 to inflict such torture on themselves in 
 the absurd belief that it was pleasure. She 
 had had quite enough of Fern Tree Grully. 
 It was her first visit there, and she would 
 take good care it should be her last. I 
 was not in the least surprised at this 
 sudden outbreak of hers ; indeed my only 
 surprise was that she had ever consented 
 to undertake the journey. 
 
 '* Only a little further, Maud," said her 
 brother, *'and we shall be at the top. 
 Don't spoil our enjoyment by your 
 obstinacy, please." 
 
 " I don't want to spoil your enjoy- 
 ment," she answered quietly.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 215 
 
 " Then why will you always insist upon 
 playing the part of the wet blanket ? " 
 
 " I was not aware that I had any 
 decided partiality for that roZe/' she 
 answered with a smile. *' But as the wet 
 blanket is such a disagreeable companion, 
 why not go on and leave her here ? " 
 
 " Shall we, Miss Hastings ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 '* I can't leave Maud," I replied. 
 
 " Pray don't consider me," exclaimed 
 that young lady as she took her seafon 
 the trunk of a big fern which had fallen 
 across the track. 
 
 But here I came and sat beside her, 
 an act which caused our two companions 
 to look at each other and then laugh 
 loudly. 
 
 " You're not tired, Flos ? " said Will. 
 "No gammon, now." 
 
 " Tired or not," said I somewhat 
 indignantly, for in those days I used to 
 look upon my robust health with some- 
 thing like reproach, '* I stay with Maud." 
 
 ** She means it, old man," said he.
 
 2i6 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 turning to Captain Fred, whose eyes were 
 on me all this time. 
 
 " I'm afraid she does, Will," was the 
 reply ; *' though it's a pity that we 
 should miss the view from the top of the 
 hill. If I could only prevail upon her to 
 take my arm, and you could prevail upon 
 Maud to take yours, I think we should 
 accomplish the journey satisfactorily. 
 What do you say, ladies ? " 
 
 The ladies were mute for a moment or 
 two ; then they looked at each other and 
 smiled, and eventually the quartette set 
 out in pairs. 
 
 The top of the gully was, in spite of 
 Maud's sighings and meanings, reached 
 in due course, and the view therefrom 
 duly admired, though advancing into the 
 glaring sunlight after the cool retreat of 
 the fern-bower was so dazzling as to 
 produce a strange and none too agree- 
 able sensation. 
 
 The two gentlemen smoked a cigar 
 apiece as we sat talking and watching 
 the sun-shadows in the valleys below, and
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 217 
 
 then the Captain, taking out his watch, 
 declared that it was time we returned to 
 luncheon ; so, amid more exclamations of 
 annoyance from Maud, we arose and 
 began our descent of the slippery 
 track. 
 
 It had seemed to us a singularly hard 
 road to mount, but it was a decidedly 
 awkward one to descend, and had it not 
 been for my cavalier, whose strong hand 
 steadied me when I slipped, I should 
 have been down at least a dozen tim^s. 
 As it was I did strain my ankle a little, 
 which caused me such pain that I was 
 forced to sit and rest it for a couple 
 of minutes ; and I must say that it 
 was almost worth the pain to behold the 
 extreme solicitude of my companion. He 
 was a blockhead and a careless fool ; he 
 ought to be jolly well kicked ; he would 
 rather have broken his own neck, con- 
 found him ! than that I should suffer the 
 slightest pain. To all of which I, of 
 course, declared that it was none of his 
 fault; that it was a mere nothing, and
 
 2i8 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 that there was no one to blame but 
 myself. 
 
 Upon our setting out once more, though 
 this time he would insist upon my taking 
 his arm, declaring the accident would 
 never have happened had I done so 
 before, I was made aware of the fact 
 that we were now entirely alone. Will 
 and Maud, who had been in front of 
 us all the way, not detecting our stoppage, 
 had gone on. That I felt rather nervous 
 at this discovery, and not a little em- 
 barassed, I freely confess, and I began to 
 wonder curiously if he would take 
 advantage of the opportunity thus offered 
 him, and likewise how I should behave 
 when it came to the point. I was half 
 afraid of him yet, though I had seen 
 nothing in him to warrant the rumours 
 which had been set afloat concerning his 
 erratic past. Still, he was not altogether 
 free from suspicion, though, I may add, 
 none the less interesting on that account. 
 If there is one thing we women despise it 
 is a noodle, though, on the other hand, a
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 219 
 
 man has not merely to be a scrapegrace 
 to command our admiration, though I 
 grant you that the stories of his wild 
 doings are never displeasing. I think I 
 should have been less suspicious of 
 Captain Fred had he shown a little more 
 of the scamp, that is, in an inoffensive 
 sort of way. One might have summed 
 him up then with some accuracy ; but his 
 present exemplary conduct rendered him 
 a tantalizing enigma. 
 
 So down we went deeper and deeper 
 into the mystic gloom of the fern bower, 
 the light now being almost entirely shut 
 out by the intertwining branches above 
 us, and now again radiant as though 
 filtered through leaves of gold. Bub at 
 length, in one of the dark places above 
 mentioned, I was unfortunate enough to 
 slip again, this time over a root which 
 crossed the path. I'm afraid I gave a 
 little scream, and that in consequence I 
 considerably startled my companion, for 
 he drew me suddenly to him and inquired 
 the cause of my cry.
 
 220 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 ** I have gone over on mj ankle 
 again," I said. 
 
 " Tlie same one ?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " It has hurt you, dear ? " 
 
 " A little, I think." 
 
 "What a confounded ass I am," he 
 exclaimed, " I ought to be jolly well 
 horsewhipped." Then very earnestly, 
 " Can you walk all right ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. At least I think so." And 
 I set out once more boldly enough, but 
 was quickly reduced to an ignoble limp. 
 
 "Why, you're fainting," he said 
 suddenly, seeing the ashy look on my 
 face, for at that moment I really thought 
 I should faint, so acute was the pain in 
 my ankle. Then he plunged his hand- 
 kerchief into the stream which ran at 
 our feet, and with it bathed my temples 
 till I felt the deadly sickness pass away. 
 
 "Thank you," I said, "I feel better 
 now. How silly of me to be sure ; but, 
 do you know, all the strength went out 
 of me for the moment. I am a nice one
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 2 2 1 
 
 to bring for a picnic, am I not ? '* and I 
 tried to laugh at my misfortunes. 
 
 " By Jove, you've got some pluck," he 
 answered admiringly. " I know what it 
 is to sprain an ankle. But now what 
 about our next move ? Do you think you 
 can walk at all ? " 
 
 " I shall have to," said I, making a 
 feeble effort to rise to my feet. " We 
 cannot be very far from the hut now." 
 
 " Not far, I think, and yet too far for 
 you to walk in your present condition."* 
 
 " How shall I get there, then ? " 
 
 " You must be carried." 
 
 " Carried ! You could not get the mare 
 up here." 
 
 '' I shall not attempt it." 
 
 '' You will go for Will ? Yes, that is a 
 good idea. I shall be all right here till 
 you return." 
 
 '' I shall not go for Will either, for you 
 might faint during my absence. I have 
 caused you mischief enough already; let 
 me now earn my forgiveness." 
 
 I'm afraid I understood him well
 
 22 2 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 enougli. At any rate my heart began to 
 beat as though it did, sending the tell- 
 tale blood back into my face. Yet, 
 woman-like, I had to assume an ignor- 
 ance of his meaning by asking him what 
 he meant. 
 
 " You can't walk," he replied ; ** I 
 can't leave you here, so you must allow 
 me to carry you." 
 
 Of course I objected. I couldn't 
 think of such a thing. He really must 
 run for Will. I was very sorry to cause 
 him so much trouble, it was just as 
 annoying to me as it must be to him, but 
 if he wouldn't mind bringing my brother 
 I should be ever so much obliged to him. 
 And so on, and so on ; and all the time I 
 was quivering with excitement — an ex- 
 citement which quite banished my 
 physical pain — and wondering what it 
 would be like to feel myself in those 
 strong arms. To all my objections, 
 however, he returned some plausible 
 argument, and as I felt that only by 
 letting him have his way could we reach
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 223 
 
 our destination, the upshot of it all was 
 that he lifted me in his arms as though I 
 were a baby, notwithstanding my sub- 
 stantial weight, and bore me along in the 
 cool shade of the green and golden ferns.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 At last we emerged into the open, when 
 to my inexpressible relief, for however 
 pleasant the situation might have been it 
 was nevertheless a delicate one, I beheld 
 Will running towards us. 
 
 "What's up?" he panted, as he came 
 tearing along. He was quite fifty yards 
 when he shouted, so that by the time he 
 reached us the Captain had, in answer to 
 my eager request, somewhat grudgingly 
 deposited me on the grass. 
 
 " Flossie has sprained her ankle, and I 
 have had to carry her. I'm glad you've 
 come, old man ; you can lend me a 
 hand." 
 
 I could not help admiring his coolness. 
 Glad Will had come, indeed, and only a 
 couple of minutes before he told me he
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 225 
 
 would the distance were ten times as 
 great. But, of course, I wasn't going to 
 say anything, and I'm sure old Will never 
 suspected that, for the Captain, his arrival 
 was decidedly inopportune. 
 
 ''Are you in very great pain ? " asked 
 the dear old fellow — after he had been 
 given a hasty account of the accident — 
 his face betraying the utmost concern. 
 
 *' Can't you see she is ? " said Captain 
 Langton, somewhat irritably. " Look at 
 her poor face." 
 
 " No, no ; not in the least," I answered 
 hastily. '' It smarts a little, that is 
 all." 
 
 ''Poor old Flos," said Will. "We 
 must get you round to the hut, and treat 
 you to a cold water bandage. By George, 
 your ankle's swollen like a pudding." 
 And with that he took me up in his 
 big arms and hurried away with me, 
 Captain Langton following with a none 
 too agreeable look on his face. 
 
 Upon arriving at the hut, which had 
 once been the abode of a solitary 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 2 26 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 shepherd, but which now had fallen into 
 disuse and disrepair, a little stimulant 
 was given me, a cold bandage ap- 
 plied to the swollen limb, and in a few 
 minutes, save for the dull, throbbing 
 pain, I felt another being. Maud was 
 greatly distressed at the accidentj and 
 extremely solicitous for my welfare, so 
 much so, in fact, that I immediately 
 began to upbraid myself for ever think- 
 ing that she was more selfish than I, or 
 nine-tenths of her fellows. I think, when 
 all's said, that human nature is much 
 the same in all of us. As we cry or 
 laugh in unison, so do we think and 
 feel. The common aim of all is the 
 same— happiness ; the common end the 
 grave. 
 
 Presently Will entered the hut and 
 bore me out on the grass, where, beneath 
 the shade of a big tree, rugs and 
 cushions had been piled up to make a 
 comfortable couch. Here, also, the 
 servant had spread a snow-white table- 
 cloth, which was laden with countless
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 227 
 
 delicacies ; and though at times a grass- 
 hopper did lurch into a jam tart, and the 
 flies buzzed around us like a swarm of 
 winged demons, we yet contrived, amid 
 jest and laughter, to demolish a substan- 
 tial meal. Had it not been for my 
 unfortunate accident, I think I should 
 have been supremely happy, for not 
 alone was everybody in the highest 
 spirits, which must have proved con- 
 tagious, but I had experienced that day 
 a new and wonderful sensation, whict, 
 though I knew not yet whether it was the 
 harbinger of life or death, had filled me 
 with a great joy. Life, it seemed, truly, 
 and bright as though born in the sun-king- 
 doms. Yet there was a terror in it too, 
 a sort of dark cloud which might bring 
 the night and the rain, or which might 
 but conceal the effulgence of some new 
 sun. Captain Langton, as I have said 
 before, had always been to me a source of 
 extreme curiosity. The stories which 
 wove their interest round his erring 
 personality were legion, and if half of 
 Q 2
 
 2 28 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 
 
 them were true he must have been almost 
 past praying for. I used to wonder what 
 he was like, and why he didn't marry, 
 and — and many other foolish things ; for, 
 being gifted with a most surprising 
 imagination, I not unusually constructed 
 my air castles in the most fantastic styles 
 of architecture. Strange castles they 
 were, too, with fairy towers and grim 
 dungeons, in the former or the latter of 
 which I spent my idle days. 
 
 After luncheon Captain Langton 
 brought out his cigar case, and he and 
 Will began blowing great wreaths of 
 smoke from their mouths, the man Flas- 
 kett, even, participating in the enjoyment 
 of the fragrant weed, for to him his 
 master had flung a cigar, telling him to 
 be off and smoke it. 
 
 " He seems a rum sort of fellow,' ' said 
 Will, as the man picked the cigar up, 
 mumbled out some thanks, and rolled off. 
 '' Looks a regular convict." 
 
 I couldn't help smiling in spite of my 
 physical pain — the allusion was such a
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 229 
 
 very unfortunate one. But tliat was just 
 like old Will. He would blunder over a 
 clump of thistles with his bare feet and 
 discover after, by the pain he suffered, 
 that he had been doing that which he 
 should not have done. I saw a quick look 
 pass between Maud and her brother ; it 
 was just a flicker of the eyelid, but it did 
 not escape me. 
 
 ^' He was a queer sort of chap when I 
 first picked him up," said the Captain, 
 with an amused smile ; " but I am gradu- 
 ally breaking him in." 
 
 ** Breaking him in ?" echoed Will. 
 
 '' Well, taking some of the nonsense 
 out of him ; teaching the beggar to know 
 his place ; ridding him of the preposterous 
 ideas he entertained as to the dignity of 
 his status. As though a fellow like that 
 could have any status." 
 
 «« Why not?" I asked, seeing that this 
 was most probably the cause of Mr. Flas- 
 kett*s dolefulness, and feeling a passing 
 inclination to enter the lists in his favour. 
 " Australia is a free country. He has a
 
 230 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 perfect right to be proud and indepen- 
 dent.'' 
 
 '' But pride in his station is absurd." 
 
 " I do not think that pride in any 
 station- is absurd." 
 
 '' But, my dear Miss Hastings, when 
 you are nobody and give yourself airs, 
 you become a laughing-stock." 
 
 "Nobody," I echoed, with a look of 
 surprise. " How can a man be a no- 
 body?" 
 
 "I see what it is," he said with a 
 laugh. '' You are one of those dreadful 
 socialistic — republican sort of people. 
 Rights of man — not forgetting woman — 
 equality, fraternity, and all that sort of 
 thing. As though there ever were 
 equality, or ever could be." 
 
 '' Not equality as you understand it, 
 certainly not." 
 
 '' And pray how do I understand it ? " 
 he asked, with a quizzing smile. 
 
 " You'd better not press for an answer, 
 old fellow," said Will, grinning furiously. 
 *' She's pretty hot on politics, I can tell
 
 The Confessions of a Currency GirL 231 
 
 you, and rocks it in fairly warm wlien 
 she's set going. You should hear her and 
 Harold at it. They'll argue by the hour 
 about the rights and wrongs of the 
 world." 
 
 "Which they intend to set going on a 
 new and improved plan, I suppose ? " said 
 the Captain, with a mischievous smile. 
 
 *' Now you're laughing at me, Captain 
 Langton," I replied ; '' and it's very 
 unkind of you. Respect a wounded 
 enemy." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! I'm afraid I'm a very un- 
 worthy foeman. Please forgive me, and 
 let me hope that it is not yet too late to 
 inquire how the ankle is progressing ? " 
 
 I was pleased to say the ankle was pro- 
 gressing favourably. It was not to be a 
 very serious sprain, I thought ; and 
 though I expected it would prevent me 
 getting about as usual for a little time, I 
 nevertheless proposed remounting my 
 horse again when the time came for our 
 setting out. To this, however, the 
 Captain would not listen.
 
 232 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 " You must go in the buggy," said he. 
 " Flaskett shall ride my horse back and 
 lead yours." 
 
 *' But what's to become of you? '* 
 
 " I shall drive you back." 
 
 " But," said I, tantalizingly, " I cannot 
 allow you to coop yourself up in a buggy, 
 well knowing that you would be regretting 
 the homeward gallop all the time." 
 
 '' But if I prefer playing the martyr ? " 
 
 " Which I may be permitted to doubt. 
 Xo, no, I assure you the servant will do 
 most admirably." 
 
 '' Would you rather I didn't come ? " he 
 asked, in a low, reproachful voice. His 
 eyes looking into mine, made my face 
 burn. 
 
 ''How can you say such a thing. Cap- 
 tain Langton ? " 
 
 " Then I will come — if you have no 
 objection ? " 
 
 *' Objection ! I thought you would 
 rather ride." 
 
 '' Did you?" 
 
 To this direct appeal I could not
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 233 
 
 answer, for the earnest look in his faca 
 embarrassed me. The jest had grown 
 serious all of a moment. He, however, 
 considerately spared me a reply, for step- 
 ping over to where Will and Maud sat, he 
 informed them of the arrangement he had 
 just made, and then coo-eed loudly for the 
 servant. 
 
 '' Coo ee," came back the answer from 
 some bushes on our left, and a few 
 minutes after Mr. Flaskett loomed in 
 view. Then the three men bustled about 
 the horses, while Maud put away the silver 
 and folded the table-cloth, I looking 
 lazily on, being forbidden to stir. 
 
 At length saddles and bridles were 
 properly adjusted, the horse harnessed to 
 the buggy, the remnants of the feast stored 
 carefully away beneath the seat, and I 
 lifted bodily into the trap. Then the 
 Captain mounted to the seat beside me, 
 and the next moment the little cavalcade 
 clattered away. 
 
 I must confess to a keen enjoyment of 
 that drive, in spite of the occasional sharp
 
 J234 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 twinges which shot through my foot. My 
 companion was solicitude itself, and it is 
 surprising how extremely tender a man 
 can be when he lays himself out to it. I 
 was very foolish, I suppose, but I felt a 
 sweet gratification in my helplessness 
 which whispered that the misfortune had 
 not been too dearly bought. There was 
 no pain, only a numbed remembrance of 
 a pain, conducive, like the opiate, to 
 lethargy. It was a pleasure to shut one's 
 eyes, and listen to that soft voice of his 
 whispering kind words, and feel the warm 
 sun, tempered by the soft breeze, per- 
 meating one's body, as it wore, and filling 
 with a dreamy langour every chamber of 
 the brain. I do not profess to recollect 
 half of what he said. I have a confused 
 remembrance of many tender phrases, and 
 of looks which meant more than he 
 dared utter ; but it was all sensuous, all 
 balmy and blissful, and full of delightful 
 dreams. 
 
 At the junction of the Wallan Road, 
 where we turned off to Langton, we pulled
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 235 
 
 up for a moment to say good-bye to Will, 
 who was to leave us at this point and 
 strike out for Granite Creek. He, dear 
 old fellow, looked happier then than I had 
 ever seen him look before, and as T glanced 
 from Maud to him I thought an under- 
 standing seemed to exist between them. 
 For his sake I hoped it might be so, for I 
 knew that he had set his heart before her 
 feet for her to cherish or spurn. It is a 
 sad thing when a man or woman comes to 
 this. When pride vanishes in the mist- 
 rack of passion, the genius of destruction 
 maybesaid to smile. Out of the foolish day 
 descends the desolate night, and though 
 the bondage of love be sweet, sweeter than 
 a Caesar's might, more glorious than the 
 triumphal march of an Alexander, may we 
 not also liken it to the ignoble flight at 
 Actium ? Sweet is it to kiss the hem of 
 her skirt, though the dust of the highways 
 still clings to it ; sweet is it to know that 
 he is ours, body and soul, bound with in- 
 visible fetters heated in the furnace of the 
 soul and shaped on the anvil of the heart ;
 
 236 The Confessions of a Currency Girt^ 
 
 yet sweeter than all is it to feel that we 
 are Ms^ and that from him, as from the 
 san, we catch the glow and glory of our 
 being. 
 
 I invariably got into this train of 
 thought whenever Maud and Will 
 presented themselves before my mental 
 vision. It seems to me now that I might 
 have been better employed in looking after 
 my own affairs, but it is singular how dull 
 our vision is when we look back into our- 
 selves, and how particularly bright and 
 powerful it is when we look into other 
 people. Not alone do we put the right 
 construction on their actions, but we like- 
 wise analyze their motives and buildup 
 their thoughts ; in fact, I am not so sure 
 we do not at times credit them with much 
 of which they never dreamt. And how 
 solicitous we are of our dear friend Ethel. 
 We do hope she will not make a fool of 
 herself over that conceited prig, Eaffler^ 
 who only talks of the destructive fire of 
 his eyes' artillery, and the number of silly 
 female hearts he has broken in his day.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 237 
 
 How Ethel, in turn, pities us with all her 
 heart as she thinks of the occasional visits 
 of dear Mr. Jones, sighs as she contem- 
 plates the excesses of our folly, and daily 
 prays that the friend of her youth may 
 never know the meaning of that sad word 
 — Regret. But I suppose this careful 
 consideration of our neighbour's welfare 
 arises entirely from our humane wish of 
 well-doing, and I have no doubt that the 
 species, as a rule, thoroughly appreciate 
 the delicate attention. 
 
 It was with rather a doleful cast of 
 countenance that poor Will tore himself 
 away from our little party, but he was to 
 ride over on the following morning to 
 ascertain how the sprain progressed, and 
 that, I think, was the only bubble of con- 
 solation in his cup of bitterness. 
 
 '' You will take care of yourself, dear," 
 he said. " No standing, you know," 
 
 " I will be as good as gold," I answered 
 merrily, for the foot seemed better already, 
 and I was delighted at the thought of 
 escaping a lengthened inconvenience.
 
 23B The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 
 
 " You will watch her, old fellow," said 
 he, turning to Captain Langton. *' Ee- 
 member she's young and giddy, and — you 
 understand ? " he added with a smile. 
 
 " Perfectly. I'll set a guard over her, 
 and if she attempts to move we'll tie her 
 down." 
 
 Will nodded acquiescence to this ar- 
 rangement ; then after a few hurried 
 words of parting turned his horse's head 
 in the direction of Wallan, and trotted 
 off. 
 
 Upon our arrival at the station, Cap- 
 tain Langton would insist upon having 
 me carried into the house, though I 
 assured him that I was perfectly able to 
 walk. To this, however, he would not 
 listen, but sending the groom Flaskett for 
 a chair, he helped that worthy to carry 
 me to my room, where they left me to the 
 tender mercies of one of the maidservants, 
 who duly applied another bandage to the 
 swollen limb and treated me according to 
 the rules of the '' Family Physician," 
 which rules I read aloud for her benefit 
 as she worked.
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 239 
 
 And then I think I must have fallen 
 asleep, for when I awoke the sun had 
 already set, and through my window I 
 could see the Southern Cross lying low 
 down in the sky. Feeling rather hot, for 
 the night was somewhat oppressive, I was 
 about to spring from my bed to hurry out 
 on the verandah when I recollected that I 
 had sprained my foot but a few hours 
 previously, and that to stand on it might, 
 at the present moment, cause it con- 
 siderable injury ; yet when I did sit up 
 and let it dangle on the floor, it felt so 
 much better that I determined to risk the 
 consequences. Therefore, after bathing 
 my face in cold water, I hobbled quietly 
 towards the verandah and slipped into the 
 long cane chair, which, on account of my 
 having shown such a decided partiality 
 for it, was always called mine. I had 
 not, however, been ensconced among the 
 cushions many minutes before I heard a 
 well-known step coming up the gravel 
 path ; the perfume of a cigar— and I 
 knew the perfume of those cigars well by
 
 240 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 this time — was next wafted in on the 
 warm breeze through the trellis of roses, 
 and then the dark outline of the wanderer 
 appeared in view as he began to mount 
 the steps of the verandah. 
 
 I lay watching him for several 
 moments, my heart jumping as though it 
 had serious designs of taking lodgment 
 in my throat ; for it is a perverse 
 creature, this heart of ours, and has a 
 will of its own which will not be gainsaid. 
 But at length, by persistent coaxing — for 
 it is only by coaxing that you can get 
 the creature to do anything — I prevailed 
 upon it to comport itself with becoming 
 dignity, nor bring its unhappy mistress 
 into ridicule. 
 
 The Captain, in the meantime, stood 
 staring stolidly out across the great dark 
 plains, over which the moon's shadows 
 cut fantastic capers, and I could tell by 
 the way he pulled at his cigar — whose 
 glow shone out through the darkness like 
 a fierce ignis fatiius — that he was thinking 
 of other things than the mystical stillness
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 241 
 
 which surrounded him. Presently he 
 uttered an exclamation, half sigh and 
 half of anger, and flung his cigar away 
 down the gravelled path, where for a 
 moment it spluttered like an exploding 
 squib. Then he came towards me with 
 hands outstretched, as though groping for 
 the chair. 
 
 " If you wouldn't mind," said I, with 
 a little laugh, as he stumbled against 
 my frail couch, making it quiver 
 ominously. 
 
 " You ! " he exclaimed. " By Jove, I 
 didn't know you were there. How long 
 have you been here ? " This was asked 
 rather earnestly, I thought. 
 
 " Only a few minutes." 
 
 '' I was under the impression you had 
 gone to bed ; and I should like to know 
 how you dare come out without my 
 permission ? " 
 
 *' Please, sir, the invalid is ever so 
 much better, and she wanted a little 
 fresh air. 
 
 " T am glad to hear that she is better, 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 but I must give her a good scolding 
 for being so mutinous." 
 
 " Spare her this time." 
 
 '' Well, well," he said, seizing a chair 
 and seating himself beside me, '' I 
 suppose I must overlook this first act of 
 insubordination, but if ever — oh, if ever 
 — 1^0," he added in a solemn voice, '' the 
 consequences will be too terrible even to 
 mention." 
 
 " Then pray don't. You know you 
 might terrify me and so throw me back 
 a week or two. But where is Maud ? " 
 
 " Writing letters, I think, or she 
 was a while ago. Poor Maud, I'm afraid 
 she finds the life here rather enervating. 
 If it wasn't for this confounded funeral 
 business, you know," he went on, '' we 
 might have a jolly time." 
 
 I did not say I thought they jogged 
 along fairly well for a family in mourning, 
 but such, nevertheless, was my im- 
 pression. I merely replied that death 
 was a solemn thing, and that out of 
 respect for the departed the living
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 243 
 
 must at least don tlie semblance of 
 woe. 
 
 " Oh, I was very fond of the old man," 
 he said, '' though he was a bit hard 
 to get on with at times ; and I'm sure 
 that Maud was fond of him too, but she, 
 poor girl, has not been accustomed to 
 this sort of life, and I know it chafes 
 her." 
 
 '' I daresay she does find it rather 
 dull." 
 
 " Dull isn't the word." 
 
 "Ah," thought I, ''if I only had the 
 chance of always being dull in the same 
 way." But I said aloud, '' Of course I 
 cannot understand it, never having been 
 used to much ; but it seems incredible 
 that anyone should tire of this place in 
 a few weeks." 
 
 " Wouldn't you ? " he said. 
 
 I thought his voice sounded full of 
 suppressed impatience, but I answered 
 with a laugh, '' I do not think so." 
 
 He was silent for several moments, 
 during which I could see him tugging
 
 244 The Confessions of a Currency Girl, 
 
 fiercely at his moustache ; then he said, 
 reverting to the old question, which he 
 never seemed to get beyond, '' And do 
 you mean to say you never wish to go out 
 into the world, to see the great things of 
 the world ? Surely, surely you could not 
 be content to pass your life in this 
 wretched, out-of-the-way hole ? " 
 
 " I have tried to school myself to such 
 a life," I replied. 
 
 '' But it is not possible that you should 
 ever live it ? " 
 
 " Who knows ? " 
 
 " But you cannot seriously entertain 
 the thought of such an existence ? " 
 
 "' I am afraid it is too serious a 
 thought to be entertained lightly." 
 
 " But you would like to go — you would 
 like to see the world ? " 
 
 His words came quickly, hotly from his 
 lips, and I knew by the way he breathed, 
 by the way his hand trembled as he 
 rested it on the back of my chair, that he 
 was thrilling with excitement. 
 
 " What a perfectly superfluous ques-
 
 The Confessions of a Currency Girl. 245 
 
 tion," I replied witH a little excited 
 laugh. 
 
 " Florence," lie said, slipping suddenly 
 on his knees beside me and pressing my 
 hand between his burning palms, '' I 
 want you to come away with me, dear, to 
 leave this dreadful old life behind." 
 
 '' With you, you ? " I gasped, his 
 passionate voice thrilling me to the quick. 
 
 " Yes, dearest, with me, because — 
 because I love you better than the whole 
 world." 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 But why shoald I go on ? All I 
 remember of those mad moments was his 
 kneeling beside me, pouring a flood of 
 passionate words into my ears, and 
 kissing me like one half mad. 
 
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