'All the world might have been here for what you'd been the wiser--going away nobody knows where, and coming home at night like--like----' 'Bush-rangers,' says I.'Say it out; but we haven't turned out yet, if that's what you mean, Miss Marston.' 'I don't mean anything but what's kind and loving, you naughty boy,' says she, throwing her arms about my neck; 'but why will you break our hearts, poor mother's and mine, by going off in such a wild way and staying away, as if you were doing something that you were ashamed of ?' 'Women shouldn't ask questions,' I said roughly.

'You'll know time enough, and if you never know, perhaps it's all the better.' Jim was alongside of mother by this time, lying down like a child on the old native dogskin rug that we tanned ourselves with wattle bark.

She had her hand on his hair--thick and curly it was always from a child.
She didn't say anything, but I could see the tears drip, drip down from her face; her head was on Jim's shoulder, and by and by he put his arms round her neck.

I went off to bed, I remember, and left them to it.
Next morning Jim and I were up at sunrise and got in the milkers, as we always did when we were at home.

Aileen was up too.