and they, too, were going to Australia.  As Mary had said, they had cost Aunt Margaret a great deal of money first and last.  Mr. Forrester had been indolent, and perhaps unlucky; Mrs. Forrester had been occupied with the cares of a very large family, and had not the force of character of her single sister.  Her eldest son had gone to Australia some time before, and though he had not made a fortune, he had done pretty well; and he was perhaps ashamed that so much had been done for his family by his aunt and so little by himself.  So he wrote advising them to come out to Melbourne, at least all but John, who was now of service to Miss Thomson; and James, if he thought his business was worth staying for.  If Margaret and Mary were inclined to take situations as governesses, he had no doubt they could obtain them.  Robert and Henry could work for themselves, and with his help could assist their parents to better advantage than in Scotland.  The family council met on this proposal, and it was ultimately acceded to, and the family were busy with their preparations to go in the same ship as Peggy and the Lowries.  It seemed to Francis as if everybody was going to Australia.

He had dined out one day, and had brushed against some of the greatest men of the age, and felt himself brightened by the collision.  He sat beside the most benevolent, the most enlightened, and the most sober-minded of political economists, on the one hand; on the other by the most brilliant of French conversationalists.  He—­Francis Hogarth, the obscure bank clerk, who had had no name, no position, and, he used to think, no ability—­was admitted on equal footing with such men as these.  He had not felt so much on the occasion of his dining with the Earl, and meeting with people there of title and political influence.

After an evening passed in conversation on the subjects which especially interested him, Francis returned to his club.  He sat down before going to bed with a cigar, and took up his letters.  An Australian mail was in, and a letter from Jane and from Elsie.  Jane’s was first taken up and read.  It described her life at Wiriwilta, the house, and the scenery, so far as she could do it justice; Miss Phillips’s relations with Dr. Grant, and Jane’s hopes that Brandon and Elsie would come to an understanding, for his manner had been very much like that of a man in love.  How cautious, yet how affectionate were her expressions to himself!  How she seemed to live in others, and to care for the happiness of everyone in the world, while regardless of her own and of his.

“Ah, Jane,” said he, half aloud, “how different it would be to come home, after such an evening as this, to you; to see your dear eyes brighten at the recital of all I have seen and all I have heard; to hear your beloved voice inspiring me to more exertion and more patience.  After sitting through so many party debates, so much transparent self-seeking, and so much ungenerous opposition as I cannot help seeing