told me of his meeting with Peggy. Shall I
tell you of that, sir?"

"Of course, my man," I said, "tell me all
you can of Harry."

"When Harry, on his return to Ireland,
reached the town of Cavan, where Peggy was
born, and where" (here My Orderly, No. 1,
hesitated in an odd way), "and where," he went on,
"I was born too. What did Harry do but put
on his old digger's clothes that he had kept safe,
makes inquiries whether the old curmudgeon,
Peggy's father, was still alive, and all that, finds
he is alive, and goes at dusk to the little
cottage outside the town.

"They didn't know him at first, for the sun
out here doesn't improve a man's complexion;
but he soon made himself known, and Peggy
fell into his arms in a dead faint. Her father
was in an awful passion. He had always
opposed the courtship most bitter.

"'What,' says he, 'are you come back, you
vagabond, to steal about my place again by
night as you did long ago, when you wanted my
child to run away with you?'

"'No, sir,' says Harry, 'don't you see I am
coming openly now? 1 haven't been able to
forget Peggy, and she hasn't forgot me; so
now, Mr. Hickey, will you give her to me?'

"'Why, you madman,' says Hickey, 'am I
likely to give my child to a man in rags? What
a hopeless profligate you must be not to be able
to have done better in Californey than to come
borne in the clothes you're in.'

"'Mr. Hickey,' says Harry, 'I am willing
to work hard for your daughter as an honest
man, and we love each other and can't get over
it. Will you give her to me or no?'

"'Begone, you beggar,' shouts the other,
'or I may forget myself in my own house.'

"'All right, sir,' says Harry; 'but you'll be
sorry for this.'

"Two days after Peggy walked out quietly and
was married to the man of her choice.

"Exactly one week after this, an old man
was shown into a comfortable sitting-room in a
neighbouring town. Harry and his wife had
just dined. Peggy started up.

"'Don't speak to me now, Peg,' said the
old man, who seemed to have a sore-throat.
'Go into another room for a minute or two.'

"She looked anxiously at her father and her
husband for a second, was satisfied, and walked
away.

"'O Harry, O dear Harry,' said the old man,
'on my knees I ask your forgiveness. I couldn't
do it before my child, but do you know all
you have done? My poor old wife and myself
would have been driven out upon the highway
only for you.'

'"Father-in-law,' says Harry, 'you know I
would have done it for her sake alone; but I
declare I think I would have done it even for
the sake of showing to an old man that there's
a better way of using money than hoarding it.'

"Harry had found that old Hickey had got
into unlucky entanglements, that the screw
was about to be applied; so he went to the
creditors, paid them, and sent receipts to Hickey
for one thousand one hundred pounds.

"Some time after this," continued My Orderly
(No. 1), "I heard of great diggins in Port Philip,
and I wrote to Harry, telling him I intended to
go there. Off I started, reached Bendigo, pitched
my tent on Eagle Hawk Gully, and was getting
any amount of gold. Why, sir, you couldn't
believe it unless you was there."

" I was there," I said, "and at the earliest
period, so go on."

"I had left directions," continued My
Orderly (No. 1), "with a friend in Melbourne
to forward my letters to the Bendigo post-office,
and one day I got a letter telling me that Harry
and Peggy and their little girl would be in
Melbourne almost as soon as the letter would reach
me.

"O Lord, how I did ride down to Melbourne!
They hadn't arrived, though, and I had to wait
for more than a week, but this gave me means
to have everything comfortable for them when
they should arrive. For what an awful place
it was! Tender ladies continually landing, and
from want of room in Melbourne compelled to
go into tents; and their little children almost
starving, and eaten alive with musquitoes and
vermin—upon my soul, sir, I don't like to talk
about it.

"They came at last and—well, well, I
suppose I must confess it, but it was the only
time that ever a woman told me not to—not to
—feel a thing so much. You're not laughing
at me, sir?" said My Orderly (No. 1), interrupting
himself.

"No, I am not, indeed, Tom. Go on."

But I must inform the reader that here Tom
showed great reluctance to go on; and before
he did go on he gave utterance to sobs so
exceedingly like sobs suppressed in a manly way,
that I felt my own feelings considerably touched,
because I knew his character so well.

"Their little girl, now between three and
four years of age—what is the use of my trying
to describe her? She was like an old woman
in sense, but was as gay and light-hearted and
full of childish sport as the queen of the
fairies herself. Such talk as hers was! But
then, you see, Peggy was a good and true
woman, Harry was a good and true man, so
she was kept from evil example. I assisted
them in what they did for her."

Here there was another pause of some
length.

"I will tell you a secret, sir, that I didn't
intend to tell. Peggy and I had been reared
together, and she was the only being I ever
loved in the same way. It was me that brought
Harry and her together. I saw too late they
could only be happy with each other. I knew
what a good fellow he was. It was me that
put it in his head to go to Californey, and I
went with him to help him make his fortune
and marry her. For, you see, it was a hopeless
case for me, and why shouldn't I do all I could
for two such dear friends?