“It is ten days since we arrived at Melbourne,” she went on to say; “my husband thought that we had better leave our two children at the city with some friends, who were passengers in the same ship with ourselves, until he had settled upon what occupation he should pursue.  He had a strong desire to try his luck at the mines, and as we had a little money left after reaching this country, he invested it in buying a cart and horse, and a few articles which were needed on the route.  I was very reluctant to part with my children, but I now perceive that it was for the best; for it is probable that the little dears would have shared the fate of their father, had they travelled with us.  The chief object of our visit to this country, however, was not so much a desire for wealth, as the thought of meeting a parent whom I have been separated from since I was a child.”

She paused for a moment, and buried her face in her hands, as though reluctant to proceed.  Smith and I exchanged glances of surprise, while the woman continued her rambling story.

“I am almost ashamed to say that my father was transported to Australia for life; but he was innocent of the charge against him, and it has since been made manifest; but government refuse to give him his liberty, and he is still a convict.”

“What was the charge upon which he was convicted?” asked Smith, with breathless anxiety.

The woman hung her head and remained silent; and Smith was obliged to repeat his question before he obtained an answer.  His pertinacity seemed cruel, but he had an object in view.

“He was charged with the death of my mother,” she answered, her voice stifled with tears.

“And your name before you were married was—­”

“Mary Ogleton.”

“It is the same,” muttered Smith; but instead of revealing the good news to her, he waited to hear the balance of her history since leaving Melbourne.  A few soothing words, and she continued,—­

“Ten months since we had letters from my father, strongly urging us to come to him, as he thought my husband would make a better living here than in England.  We were the more inclined to follow his advice, as the letters contained drafts for money to help us pay our passage, which we otherwise should not have been enabled to have done.”

“Tell us about your journey since leaving the city,” cried Smith, “for we already know your history before that period.”

She looked surprised, and continued,—­

“Father wrote us that he was tending a flock of sheep on the road leading to Ballarat, and that he could not leave his station even for a day; but we were to write him if we intended coming, and he would have a friend on the lookout for us.  We answered his letter, saying that we should embark on board of the first ship that sailed for Australia; but when we reached port we found none to welcome us; and it was only after diligent inquiries that