“Then there was silence for I don’t know how long; it was really dreadful, and I couldn’t think how it was going to end.  At last he heaved a big sigh, and said: 

“’Well, Miss Edgeworth, there is no need to hurry; take time to think about it.  I am going to ride out, and perhaps you will be good enough to let me know your mind when I come back.’

“Then he just shook her hand, and I hurried away from the door.  It was rather mean of me to be listening to them, but I took as much interest in Miss Edgeworth as if she were my own daughter.

“‘There is no need to hurry,’ he had said, but in my opinion there was too much hurry, for they were married on the Saturday, and he rode away the same morning having to open school again on Monday.

“Of course, Miss Edgeworth was a good deal put about when we heard what had happened, through the papers, but I comforted her as much as possible.  I said, ’as for myself, I had never liked the look of the poor man with his red hair and freckles.  I am sure he had a bad temper at bottom, for red-haired men are always hasty; and then he had a high, thin nose, and men of that kind are always close and stingy, and the stingiest man I ever knew was a Dublin man.  Then his manners, you must remember, were anything but nice; he didn’t wasteany compliments on you before you married him, so you may just fancy what kind of compliments you would have had to put up with afterwards.  And perhaps you have forgotten what you said yourself about him at Bendigo.  You were sure he was a severe master, you could see sternness on his brow.  And however you could have consented to go to the altar with such a man I cannot understand to this day.  I am sure it was a very bad match, and by-and-by you will thank your stars that you are well out of it.’

“I must acknowledge that Miss Edgeworth did not take what I said to comfort her very kindly, and she ‘gave me fits,’ as the saying is; but bless your soul, she’ll soon get over it, and will do better next time.”

Soon after the death of Philip, Major Chisholm and his family left Nyalong, and I was appointed Clerk to the Justices at Colac.  I sat under them for twelve years, and during that time I wrote a great quantity of criminal literature.  When a convict of good conduct in Pentridge was entitled to a ticket-of-leave, he usually chose the Western district as the scene of his future labours, so that the country was peopled with old Jack Bartons and young ones.  Some of the young ones had been Philip’s scholars—­viz., the Boyles and the Blakes.  They were friends of the Bartons, and Old John, the ex-flogger, trained them in the art of cattle-lifting.  His teaching was far more successful than that of Philip’s, and when in course of time Hugh Boyle appeared in the dock on a charge of horse-stealing, I was pained but not surprised.  Barton, to whose farm the stolen horse had been brought by Hugh, was summoned as witness for the Crown, but he organised the evidence for the defence so well that the prisoner was discharged.