earthly ordained virtue, departed at the call of its guardian Author, for its next assigned function in the Eternal Kingdom."
Not far from this paragon, was a modest slab recording the fact, that "the officer who lay beneath it, was killed most suddenly in a duel on Christmas day 1802."
The spirit of the environment had taken hold of Mallender, and the oppressive silence, save for the twittering of a sparrow, the rustle of a lizard, weighed heavily upon his consciousness. Year after year a pitiless Eastern sun beat down on this forlorn enclosure, and it seemed to Mallender as if these dead folk,—his countrymen and women,—appealed to him from their graves, to at least read their names, and the manner of their deaths. With a mind attuned to this melancholy inspection, he was turning the corner of a colossal tomb, when he all but collided with a girl carrying a large wreath! At a glance, he noticed that she was young and slim. He also received an impression that she was handsome.
"I—I beg your pardon," he stammered in his bewilderment.
She stared blankly at him for a moment, and then exclaimed, "Oh, oh—it’s all right," and stepping back, motioned him to proceed. From a little distance, a male voice bellowed:
"Come on, come on, Tara—what the dickens is keeping you?" and he presently heard the swish of skirts, and light footsteps running away.
Now that "Tara" had departed, Mallender retraced his way, consumed with curiosity to know, where she had deposited the wreath? He discovered it on a flat stone, which bore the name,
"Robert Gordon, Surgeon. He was good to all. He died of Cholera July 1st 1839."
Over seventy years had elapsed, and this man was still remembered! Wellunga was undoubtedly an outlandish, other world place!
As Mallender left the cemetery, he noticed the girl,
