Madge closed her mouth firmly, and touched his comely head with her cool, white fingers.  There was a struggle going on in her breast between her feminine curiosity and her love for the man at her feet—­the latter conquered, and she bowed her head over his.

“Brian,” she whispered softly, “let it be as you wish.  I will never again try to learn this secret, since you do not desire it.”

He arose to his feet, and caught her in his strong arms, with a glad smile.

“My dearest,” he said, kissing her passionately, and then for a few moments neither of them spoke.  “We will begin a new life,” he said, at length.  “We will put the sad past away from us, and think of it only as a dream.”

“But this secret will still fret you,” she murmured.

“It will wear away with time and with change of scene,” he answered sadly.

“Change of scene!” she repeated in a startled tone.  “Are you going away?”

“Yes; I have sold my station, and intend leaving Australia for ever during the next three months.”

“And where are you going?” asked the girl, rather bewildered.

“Anywhere,” he said a little bitterly.  “I am going to follow the example of Cain, and be a wanderer on the face of the earth!”

“Alone!”

“That is what I have come to see you about,” said Brian, looking steadily at her.  “I have come to ask you if you will marry me at once, and we will leave Australia together.”

She hesitated.

“I know it is asking a great deal,” he said, hurriedly, “to leave your friends, your position, and”—­with hesitation—­“your father; but think of my life without you—­think how lonely I shall be, wandering round the world by myself; but you will not desert me now I have so much need of you—­you will come with me and be my good angel in the future as you have been in the past?”

She put her hand on his arm, and looking at him with her clear, grey eyes, said—­“Yes!”

“Thank God for that,” said Brian, reverently, and there was again a silence.

Then they sat down and talked about their plans, and built castles in the air, after the fashion of lovers.

“I wonder what papa will say?” observed Madge, idly twisting her engagement ring round and round.

Brian frowned, and a dark look passed over his face.

“I suppose I must speak to him about it?” he said at length, reluctantly.

“Yes, of course!” she replied, lightly.  “It is merely a formality; still, one that must be observed.”

“And where is Mr. Frettlby?” asked Fitzgerald, rising.

“In the billiard-room,” she answered, as she followed his example.  “No!” she continued, as she saw her father step on to the verandah.  “Here he is.”