We hurried to the door, to receive our guest, and with our curiosity somewhat excited to see the woman whom all appeared to dread.

To our extreme surprise, we saw a female not more than twenty years of age, dressed in the latest style of Melbourne fashion, with a frank, pleasing face, looking fresh and clean, which was so extraordinary, in that part of the world, that we rather exceeded good manners by the length of our gaze.

We little knew, at the time, that the lady, for the purpose of making a favorable impression upon our susceptible hearts, had insisted upon her husband’s stopping his team, a few miles from Ballarat, while she made her toilet, and to do so, had used all the water in the water kegs, to the great distress of the oxen, who were really suffering for a drink.

Yes, the bride was really handsome, and would be called so in any civilized portion of the world, where beauty is recognized by the standard of regular features, clear skin, white teeth, and a perfect form.  Her eyes, too, were large, black, and lustrous, and she understood the use of them as well as the most arrant Spanish coquette that ever lived.

I advanced to the team, and extended my hand for the purpose of assisting the lady to alight, for her husband seemed occupied with his cattle, and unable to afford her those delicate attentions which a wife sometimes requires.

“Who, in the devil’s name, are you?” she asked, in a quick, pert manner, as though determined to astonish us on the first hour of her arrival.

I heard a smothered laugh in the store, as though Smith was endeavoring to prevent an explosion, and even Fred had hard work to retain his countenance.

“This gentleman, Maria,” cried the woman’s husband, rushing to my rescue, “is one of my employers, whom I spoke to you about.”

“O, is he?” she asked, with a strong stare, first at me and then at Fred.  “Well, I don’t see any thing remarkable about him, and he isn’t half as good looking as the fellow standing in the door.”

The compliment to Fred, at my expense, was answered by another suppressed groan from Smith, while the poor husband hardly knew whether to abuse his better half or coax her.

“Don’t talk that way to strangers,” the poor devil pleaded, but his good nature was all thrown away.

“Go and attend to the cattle,” she ordered, “and let me alone.  I haven’t had a moment’s peace since I married you, and I almost wish that I had fallen to the stout miner who wanted me so much.  He was something like a man, and was as big as two of you.”

“I wish, with all my heart, you had,” muttered the bridegroom, but he took good care not to let her hear him.

“Well, give me your hand,” the wife exclaimed, addressing me; “I see that no one is coming to my assistance, and a poor beau is better than none, as we used to say in Radcliff Highway.”  And when I extended my hand, she grasped it warmly, pressed it strongly, and with a display of ankles that put my modesty to its severest test, gave a spring, and was on the ground beside me.