Not another word was spoken until we reached the store, and ushered Mr. Herrets into the room where the girl was seated.  The latter looked up, smiled, but did not appear very enthusiastic or particularly overjoyed.

“Hullo, Molly,” cried the lover, roughly, rushing frantically towards her, and throwing his arms around her neck; and in spite of a slight struggle, he succeeded in imprinting half a dozen kisses upon her cheeks and lips.

We noted that the interview was too interesting for us to witness, and we retired and left them together.

“Poor girl,” muttered Fred, with a sigh; “what chance for happiness does she possess with a man whose education has been neglected, and whose manners have been blunted by a lengthy residence in the mines?”

“He is better than he appears,” I replied, “and I have no doubt that they will soon understand each other’s ways, and get along quite happily.  We have no right to interfere.”

“I think that we have.  She is a protegee of ours, and as such it is our duty to see lest she comes to harm.  I think that I shall object to this marriage.”

Confound it.  I feared as much all the time, but I was not disposed to relinquish all hope of getting Fred from committing himself to such a course.  I know that if my friend but gave the least encouragement to the girl she would repudiate her lover, and then I could readily foresee what would follow.  Clergymen were not abundant at Ballarat, and Fred, I knew, had no thought of marriage.

I reasoned with Fred for a long time, and told him (God forgive me for the lie) that great affection existed between the parties, and that they were not disposed to show it before us, as we were comparatively strangers, and had no right to judge of their hearts or their heads; and at last I so worked on the mind of my friend that he readily accompanied me to the police office, where we were directed to a clergyman’s, and with the reverend gentleman returned to the store, where our appearance created some surprise in the heart, at least, of one of the parties.

We insisted upon the girl’s changing her clothes—­the trunk which she spoke of having been found and taken to our place of business; and while she was doing so behind a screen of sail-cloth, we commenced making preparations for the wedding.

Mary presented an entirely different aspect when she appeared, dressed in her well-fitting garments; and although her face and hands were sunburned, and her manners were embarrassed, we did not fail to compliment her on her beauty, and to congratulate her on her near approaching nuptials.

“Let me speak with you for a moment,” she said, turning to Fred just before the knot was tied.

Fred stepped a few paces from the group, and waited to hear her commands.

“When I made a promise to that man,” she said, pointing to her lover, “I thought that I loved him.  I was much younger than I am now, and knew but little of the world.  Even when I reached these shores, I thought that my heart was entirely possessed by Mr. Herrets, and perhaps I should have continued to think so had not accident revealed to me what real love is.”