attention to the auspicious occasion, and wishing them a silver and a golden wedding. And there were many more toasts, and among them the health of Osman, winner of the Luya Cup; and the cup was filled with champagne, and handed from each to each, Blake himself drinking after Elsie's lips had touched the goblet.
"I drink to our first meeting," said he in a low tone, audible only to her.
The lanterns were all alight when they left the tent, and the musicians had already struck up in the woolshed. It was a curious and fairy-like scene, the array of coloured lamps, the solemn bunyas in the dimness of night, and in their density of foliage, almost like pyramids of green marble, the leaden lagoon reflecting the pale stars above and the red fires of the camp below, the shadowy expanse of plain, and the darker patches of scrub and bush, with the rugged mountain beyond—Luya—and the two needles of the Burrum, against the deep mysterious sky, dotted with its myriads of stars, and showing all the beautiful southern constellations. The moon had not risen yet, but its appearance could hardly add any greater glory to the night. Blake got Elsie a programme, and wrote his initials against various waltzes. Frank Hallett watched him doing this with envy and jealousy tearing at his heart. He was an outsider, one among the crowd of men who waited, as she stood on the steps of the woolshed, to ask her for a dance.
"Please let me pass," said Lady Garfit sourly, as she convoyed her daughter. "Mr. Frank Hallett, I am sure you will give your arm to Rose. Miss Valliant's would-be partners make quite a block in the gangway."
There was a general clearance.
"I beg your pardon," said Elsie innocently. "But you know, I can't help people asking me to dance, can I?"
Lady Garfit did not vouchsafe a reply.
"You must feel like a queen holding a court," said Trant, who had pushed his way close to her.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Lady Garfit makes me feel like a beggar maid dressed up. No, Mr. Trant, you mustn't put
