The quarrel with Richard Merton, together with what had indirectly caused it, served to strengthen Harold for the last act in this drama of actual life. It must be accomplished to-night at all hazard, for the old station was no place for him now. He had given himself little grace for the preparation of his departure from the scenes and associations of his boyhood, but sufficient, he thought, if no hitch occurred to frustrate him at the last. Once his ambition was to become a Tyson in these Arcadian wilds; but now that wealth was as good as won, the bush, with its weird hush, or its musical whisperings, had no charm for him, and the stirring scenes of camps and cattle-yards failed to touch a chord of enthusiasm. His life and Edith's would be spent together, but in new and different fields, and far removed from the haunted hills of Tipparoo.
Grant Attwell arrived in time for tea, and all by then had put on their best looks, so that no trace of the recent storm was observable. Edith's spirits were mercurial; at times she was excited and glowing, and again she would grow sad as she thought of her mother. What a strange life was hers--how full of bitter memories! She contrived to avoid a meeting between her father and Magnus Susman; and when the latter came stumbling in as usual, the two principals were consulting in Harold's room.
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