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"Yes, they were my friends."
Here a gentleman entered the room, and to Reg's surprise Marjorie ran to him and said:
"Arthur, this is Mr. Morris."
"Morris!" said he. "What! the real Morris? My dear sir, I am delighted to see you."
"That's my husband," said she, in answer to his look of enquiry, then added in a sad voice, "poor old Jones died a month before my leaving, he sent a short message to you,--it was: 'Tell Mr. Morris that he made me happy.' Poor old chap!"
"I am heartily glad to see that Mrs. Montague took my advice. It would have been a thousand pities had she buried her talent because of a scoundrel."
"Have you came across him yet, Mr. Morris?"
"No, not yet," said Reg, slowly, "for months I have been on his tracks, and the other day he was reported to be drowned, but I can hardly believe it, so my friend has gone off to find out the truth."
"Who was that red-haired gentleman in your box?"
"His name is Philamore, he knows you."
"Philamore? I don't remember the name, but there was something in his face which seemed familiar."
"Fancy, my dear, only fancy," said Mr. Montague. "But you, Mr. Morris, you will join us at lunch. I want to drink your health, for it is to you I owe my meeting with my wife."
Reg was persuaded to stay, but he did so reluctantly, as he had half promised to lunch at Blue Gums.
"Will you let me introduce my lady friends to you?" he asked.
"I should be most happy to meet any friends of yours," she answered, smiling.
"You'll find them true Australian girls, and I venture to say you will be good friends."
"Well, I shall be at home all this afternoon."
"If I can, then, I'll bring them to you," said Reg, taking his leave, and setting out at once for Blue Gums. His arrival alone caused some enquiries.
"Where's Mr. Winter?" asked Hil.
"He's gone to Toowoomba."
"Toowoomba! What for?"
"Well, to tell the truth, we are not satisfied that Wyck is really dead, and Hal has gone to enquire at the hotel he stopped at and interview Bill Adams; but mind, to anyone else, he has gone to Albury for a couple of days."
"I see," said Hil.
"Do you know," asked May, "that Mr. Philamore has lately been in Queensland?"
"No. Is that so?"
"Well he started telling us a story about camp-life, and suddenly stopped and, though we both tried to persuade him to continue, he would not."
"And what do you make of that?"
"Nothing, except it seemed curious, considering he has only just come out from England."
"I have just left Mrs. Montague. Will you ladies go and call on her? She expressed a wish to make your acquaintance."
"When?"
"Well, she's at home this afternoon."
"We'd go if we only had an escort."
"Won't I do, Miss Goodchild?"
"If you will honour us," she said, with a mock curtsey.
"And we will both go and put on our brand-new dresses in honour of the occasion," said Hil, following May from the room.
Reg sat down and fell into a brown study. His lost Amy held the first place in his thoughts, but unconsciously of late he had found the form of May Goodchild, not usurping the image of his dead love, but appearing as it were by her side. He did not know whether to take himself to task for want of loyalty, but in the midst of his cogitations he was interrupted by the return of the ladies, costumed in the latest fas.h.i.+on.
"Understand," said Hil, as they walked out to the carriage, "You are to be our chaperon, and keep us in order."
"Trust me, I'll sing out if I see any lapse," he answered, laughing.
Mrs. Montague and the girls became fast friends from the outset, and when Reg and her husband left for a smoke they became quite confidential. She told them all her experiences and how Reg had come to her rescue.
"You see, here I am with a husband who wors.h.i.+ps me; a successful career; my sisters at school and well cared-for, and wherever I go I am so well received; and all this I owe to Mr. Morris."
"Yes, he is a fine fellow, and had it not been for him I should not have been here to-day," said May, telling her tale of rescue by the boys.
The girls enjoyed their visit, and had extracted from Mrs. Montague a promise to make Blue Gums her home for the remainder of her stay. As the carriage was taking them down Pitt Street, Reg started in surprise as his eye caught sight of a man crossing the street.
"Joe Brown!" he cried. "That's him for a certainty, in spite of his store clothes. If you'll excuse me I'll follow him. I'll keep you informed," he added, as the carriage was stopped, and he raised his hat.
Hastily hurrying in the direction taken by Joe Brown, Reg soon caught sight of him again. He shadowed him to Market Street, where he entered one of those cheap restaurants, at which one can get a bed or a three-course meal for sixpence. Reg sauntered about for fully an hour before he re-appeared. At last his patience was rewarded. Brown appeared, and walked in the direction of George Street, and halted at the corner of a cross-street, and waited as if expecting someone.
Presently a hansom pulled up and Joe stepped in and sat down by the side of another man, and the cab drove rapidly away.
"The plot thickens," said Reg to himself. "Now, what the devil has he to do with Joe?" and he called a cab and had himself driven to Blue Gums.
"Well, did you see him?" asked Hil, eagerly.
"Yes, and who do you think picked him up in a cab?"
"Mr. Philamore?"
"Yes, but how did you guess that?" said Reg, in surprise.