“I hate letters,” said Mrs. Peck, moodily; “but I would like to get at the girls by word of mouth.”

As this interesting pair were engaged in conversation, a traveller of a very different description alighted at the door of the inn, and requested lodgings for the night.  He was well-dressed and respectable-looking; he was probably as old as either of them, but his face and air gave tokens of a quieter life and a calmer temper.  His horse was knocked up, so that he could not go on to a larger and better-appointed inn than this, which was five miles nearer town; but when he saw the name over the door and the host and hostess, he was reconciled to the inferior accommodation.  But he rather objected to the company that he found in the inn parlour, and did not seem pleased with the proposal that he should take supper with them.

“Oh, Mr. Dempster,” said the host, “I fancy you have got nice since you were in England.  These people are decent enough, I reckon, though rather down in their luck, like some others of us.  I wish I had such a house to receive you in as that I built on the—­Road.  I had plenty rooms there; but you see it was not licensed, and I was ruined—­at least brought down to this.”

“Well, Frankland, I suppose I must submit,” said Mr. Dempster, “as you say you have no other place for me; but I never would have thought these were particularly decent people.”

Whether from spiritual influences or not, Mr. Dempster felt a great repugnance to this man and woman.  The influence might have been partly spirituous, for there was a considerable fragrance of strong liquor about them both.

In spite of the unpromising appearance of the house, the hostess produced a very tempting-looking supper for hungry people.  She sat down herself to make tea for the company, and was delighted to see Mr. Dempster, and to have a little talk with him about old colonists and old times.  She was a very old colonist herself, and had known many ups and downs, generally in the same line of life.

Active, civil, and much-enduring, she was an admirable hostess, but her husband was rather idle and speculative, and had invested the savings of many years in the erection of a large hotel in a place where, in the opinion of the Bench of Magistrates, it was not wanted, and the licence was refused, so they had come down in the world in consequence, and had taken this small inn, where they could just make ends meet.  Mrs. Frankland missed the old customers who used to call, and felt this visit from Mr. Dempster something like a revival of old days, and asked him as to the changes he saw in Adelaide; and as Mr. and Mrs. Peck were Melbourne people, who did not know anything about the old colonists, Mr. Dempster spoke to her with freedom.

“You have been visiting your married daughter, I suppose,” said Mrs. Frankland.

“Yes, that is the first thing I had to do on my return.”

“A fine family she is getting about her, I hear; but I have not seen her for awhile.  This house is not good enough for her to stay a night in.”