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"Why, at our place, Toonarbin, Doctor." "Well, take me in and give me some food; I have terrible tidings for you. When did you last see Lee?" "The day before yesterday; he is up at an outlying hut of ours in the ranges." "He is lying murdered in his bed there, for I saw him so not three hours past." He then told Troubridge all that had happened.

The door is thrown heavily open, and he stalks up to the table where the will is lying, quite unexpectedly; stalks up always, or else strides. If they did, how could it happen that Mary Hawker sat there in her verandah at Toonarbin singing so pleasantly over her work?

Troubridge's Station, Toonarbin, lay so far back from the river, and so entirely on the road to nowhere, that Tom used to remark, that he would back it for being the worst station for news in the country.

So there was nothing to do but to wait for the end as patiently as might be. During the summer she got out of bed, and sat in a chair, which Tom used to lift dexterously into the verandah. There she would sit very quietly; sometimes getting Mrs. Buckley, who came and lived at Toonarbin that summer, to read a hymn for her; and, during this time, she told them where she would like to be buried.

This last was told me by the man distinguished above as "the neat man," who was standing outside, and heard the whole. But Frank arrived in due time at Toonarbin, and found all there much as he had left it, save that Mary Hawker had recovered her serenity, and was standing expecting him, with Charles by her side.

Never mention him, lad. He was a bad man, and by God's mercy you are delivered from him." She rose and went into the house quite cheerfully. Why should she not? Why should not a handsome, still young, wealthy widow be cheerful? For she was a widow. For years after settling at Toonarbin, she had contrived, once in two or three years, to hear some news of her husband.

However, as I said, all clouds had cleared from the Toonarbin atmosphere, and, after a pleasant meal, Frank, Major and Mrs. Buckley, Sam, and Charles Hawker, rode home to Baroona under the forest arches, and reached the house in the gathering twilight. The boys were staying behind at the stable as the three elders entered the darkened sitting-room.

"Suppose," said the groom, contemptuously shaking him off; "why, then you and I should get our throats cut." At this moment the noise of the distant fight breezed up louder than ever. "They're beat back," said Burnside. "I shall be off to Toonarbin, and give them warning. I advise you to save yourself." "I was set to mind these here things," said Benjy, "and I'm a-going to mind 'em.

And although I have seen young fellows brought up among convicts who have turned out respectable in the end, yet it is not a promising school for good citizens. But at Toonarbin no such precautions as these were taken with regard to Charles. Tom was too careless, and Mary too indulgent. It was hard enough to restrain the boy during the lesson hours, falsely so called.

Behind all again towered lofty, dark hanging woods, closing the prospect. This is Toonarbin, where Mary Hawker, with her leal and trusty cousin Tom Troubridge for partner, has pitched her tent, after all her spasmodic, tragical troubles, and here she is leading as happy, and by consequence as uninteresting, an existence as ever fell to the lot of a handsome woman yet.