We received a great many letters from Gertie for a little while after she went up the country, but they grew shorter and farther between as time went on.

In one of grannie’s letters there was concerning my sister: “I find Gertie is a much younger girl for her age than Sybylla was, and not nearly so wild and hard to manage. She is a great comfort to me. Every one remarks upon her good looks.”

From one of Gertie’s letters:

Uncle Julius came home from Hong Kong and America last week, and brought such a lot of funny presents for every one. He had a lot for you, but he has given them to me instead as you are not here. He calls me his pretty little sunbeam, and says I must always live with him.

I sighed to myself as I read this. Uncle Jay–Jay had said much the same to me, and where was I now? My thoughts were ever turning to the people and old place I love so well, but Gertie’s letters showed me that I was utterly forgotten and unmissed.

Gertie left us in October 1897, and it was somewhere about January 1898 that all the letters from Caddagat were full to overflowing with the wonderful news of Harold Beecham’s reinstatement at Five–Bob Downs, under the same conditions as he had held sway there in my day.

From grannie’s letters I learnt that some old sweetheart of Harold’s father had bequeathed untold wealth to this her lost love’s son. The wealth was in bonds and stocks principally, and though it would be some time ere Harold was actually in possession of it, yet he had no difficulty in getting advancements to any amount, and had immediately repurchased Five–Bob.

I had never dreamed of such a possibility. True, I had often said were Harold a character in fiction instead of real life, some relative would die opportunely and set him up in his former position, but, here, this utterly unanticipated contingency had arisen in a manner which would affect my own life, and what were my feelings regarding the matter?

I think I was not fully aware of the extent of my lack of wifely love for Harold Beecham, until experiencing the sense of relief which stole over me on holding in my hand the announcement of his return to the smile of fortune.

He was rich; he would not need me now; my obligation to him ceased to exist; I was free. He would no longer wish to be hampered with me. He could take his choice of beauty and worth; he might even purchase a princess did his ambition point that way.

One of Gertie’s letters ran:

That Mr Beecham you used to tell me so much about has come back to live at Five–Bob. He has brought his aunts back. Every one went to welcome them, and there was a great fuss. Aunt Helen says he (Mr B.) is very conservative; he has everything just as it used to be. I believe he is richer than ever. Every one is laughing about his luck. He was here twice last week, and has just left this evening. He is very quiet. I don’t know how you thought him so wonderful. I think he is too slow, I have great work to talk to him, but he is very kind, and I like him. He seems to remember you well, and often says you were a game youngster, and could ride like old Nick himself.

I wrote to the owner of Five–Bob desiring to know if what I heard concerning his good fortune was correct, and he replied by return post:

My dear little Syb,

Yes, thank goodness it is all true. The old lady left me nearly a million. It seems like a fairy yarn, and I will know how to value it more now. I would have written sooner, only you remember our bargain, and I was just waiting to get things fixed up a little, when I’m off at great tracks to claim you in the flesh, as there is no need for us to wait above a month or two now if you are agreeable. I am just run to death. It takes a bit of jigging to get things straight again, but it’s simply too good to believe to be back in the same old beat. I’ve seen Gertie a good many times, and find your descriptions of her were not at all overdrawn. I won’t send any love in this, or there would be a “bust up” in the post-office, because I’d be sure to overdo the thing, and I’d have all the officials on to me for damages. Gather up your goods and chattels, because I’ll be along in a week or two to take possession of you.

— Yr devoted

Hal.

I screwed the letter in two and dropped it into the kitchen-fire.

I knew Harold meant what he had said. He was a strong-natured man of firm determinations, and having made up his mind to marry me would never for an instant think of anything else; but I could see what he could not see himself — that he had probably tired of me, and was becoming enamoured of Gertie’s beauty.

The discordance of life smote hard upon me, and the letter I wrote was not pleasant. It ran:

To H. A. BEECHAM, Esq.,
 Five–Bob Downs Station,
   Gool–Gool, N.S.W.

Sir,

Your favour duly to hand. I heartily rejoice at your good fortune, and trust you may live long and have health to enjoy it. Do not for an instant consider yourself under any obligations to me, for you are perfectly free. Choose some one who will reflect more credit on your taste and sense.

With all good wishes,
 Faithfully yrs,
   S. PENELOPE MELVYN.

As I closed and directed this how far away Harold Beecham seemed! Less than two years ago I had been familiar with every curve and expression of his face, every outline of his great figure, every intonation of his strong cultivated voice; but now he seemed as the shadow of a former age.

He wrote in reply: What did I mean? Was it a joke — just a little of my old tormenting spirit? Would I explain immediately? He couldn’t get down to see me for a fortnight at the least..

I explained, and very tersely, that I had meant what I said, and in return received a letter as short as my own:

DEAR MISS MELVYN,

I regret your decision, but trust I have sufficient manhood to prevent me from thrusting myself upon any lady, much less you.

Your sincere friend,
 HAROLD AUGUSTUS BEECHAM.

He did not demand a reason for my decision, but accepted it unquestionably. As I read his words he ............