The magistrate's wife died suddenly and she came to keep house for her cousin.

Molly Corbold's father had met with many severe reverses in business in Sydney, and she was glad to accept such a position as Adye Dauntsey offered her in order to relieve him. She admired Jim Dennis and was not afraid to show it, and he was not insensible to her charms and many good qualities, but considered she was 'a cut above him,' as he put it.

Mr Dauntsey saw how matters were drifting and was not ill-pleased. He knew Jim Dennis's worth, and also that he was a man of substance and well calculated to make a woman like Molly Corbold happy.

'Molly,' he said to her one day, when Jim Dennis had returned to Wanabeen. 'I think Dennis admires you. Do you like him?'

'Yes, I like him very much,' she replied openly. 'He is a very genuine man.'

'Precisely, that exactly describes him,' said her cousin. 'He is well off, and, although not well educated, he may be said to be one of Nature's best make. He is coming again next week.'

'Oh,' she replied, 'I shall be very pleased to see him.'

Jim Dennis came and tried his chance, and Molly Corbold accepted him as her husband, and was thankful she had secured such a good match.

They were married, and at the time of which we read had been living happily together for three years at Cudgegong. Willie Dennis was very fond of his father's wife, and they were a united family.

Jim Dennis found it very different living at Cudgegong, with such a clever wife as Molly, to the deserted life he spent at Wanabeen.

He told her the history of his past life, omitting no details, and she pitied him for all he had suffered.

Molly Dennis was as popular as her husband at Swamp Creek, which had developed into quite an important township owing to the discovery of gold in the vicinity.

The population had increased by leaps and bounds, until Dr Tom found he had quite as much work on his hands as he could manage, and had serious thoughts of obtaining the services of an a.s.sistant from Sydney.

Sergeant Doonan's position was no sinecure, and he had his headquarters at Swamp Creek. The rough element, attracted by the rush for gold, abounded, but he kept them in order with a firm hand, and Swamp Creek was grateful to him.

The races there were the most important out West, and the valuable prizes given attracted owners from far distant parts.

It was at such races as these Willie Dennis often rode his father's horses with signal success, but he refused to ride for anyone else, although offered large sums to do so. Jim Dennis remonstrated with him, but Willie stood firm, and his father allowed him to have his own way.

The Cudgegong stud was fast becoming famous, and breeders from many parts of New South Wales, Victoria and Queensland visited the station and made extensive purchases.

They were surprised to find in Molly Dennis a well-educated, refined woman, and wondered how she managed to exist in such a lonely part.

Molly Dennis was not lonely; she was very happy. Her husband was kind and devoted to her, and she did all in her power to please him. They generally had someone staying with them, and constant visitors came from Swamp Creek and Barragong. Altogether it was a 'jolly life,' Molly said, and she meant it.

She was an excellent horsewoman, and had long gallops over the big paddocks with Willie Dennis.

Adye Dauntsey generally spent the week-end with them, and on the occasion of these visits Dr Tom would drop in for a chat.

Dr Tom had never been so prosperous before, and he was quite accustomed to having his fees paid, a thing he had never dreamt of even in his most sanguine moments.

He had built a new house at Swamp Creek, and his buggy and pair was highly presentable.

Altogether Dr Tom was somewhat of a reformed character, but he was still the same good-natured, even-tempered, kind-hearted man who had answered Jim Dennis's call for help when Willie lay at death's door.

No man was more beloved than the doctor, and no trouble was too great, he thought, to deserve the kindness of his many friends. Molly Dennis was his favourite, and he amused her for hours with his quaint tales of ship life and his early struggles at Swamp Creek. He still had a mania for poetry, and Molly Dennis was his theme, 'his inspiration,' he said.

'I declare I am quite jealous of you, doctor,' said Jim. 'I wish you would teach me to write poetry so that I might have a chance of winning back Molly's affections.'

'Poetry is not taught,' said Dr Tom, grandly. 'It is born in men. It is a genius, a gift from the G.o.ds.'

'You don't say so?' replied Jim. 'Then you are a spoilt child of the G.o.ds.'

'Very much spoilt,' said Dr Tom, laughing. 'In order to calm your jealous suspicions I will write my next poem upon your many admirable qualities.'

'Don't; please spare me that,' said Jim. 'I could not stand it. Anything but that, doctor. Have some mercy upon me.'

'Jim, you are too severe upon him,' said Molly. 'I am sure some of Dr Tom's poetry is beautiful; the sentiment is charming.'

'I am amply repaid,' said the doctor. 'Such praise from so fair a lady is a grand recompense for hours of toil.'

They all laughed merrily, and Dr Tom vowed he would do something brilliant in the future.

One calm, peaceful night Jim Dennis sat on the broad verandah at Cudgegong, and, looking across the green lands before him, thought over the past and contrasted it with the present.

As far as his eyes could see he owned the land, it was his to hold for ever, until he died.

After all, fortune had favoured him, and Providence, having chastened him, was now amply recompensing him for his early sufferings.

He had a loving wife, a dutiful son; what more could he want?

He thought of the old days at Wanabeen; of the time when, well-nigh broken-hearted, he learned Willie's mother, his wife, had deserted them.

It caused a pa.s.sing sadness in the midst of his happiness. Then he recalled how the sinning woman came back to die, and he clenched his hands as he thought of Rodney Shaw and his villanies.

Of the fight at Barker's Creek he had a vivid recollection, and his eyes glistened as he thought of the hand-to-hand conflict with Dalton's gang.

A light touch on his shoulder, and Molly said in a low voice,--

'Dreaming of the past, Jim? Do not recall it; think of the present--and me.'

She nestled at his feet and laid her head on his knee. He stroked her hair, and said,--

'I was thinking of the past, Molly, but it is a very far-off memory.

With you near me all the black days vanish and there is nothing but light and joy and peace. I little thought such happiness as this would ever be mine.'

'Then you are contented?'

'Yes; no man could be more so, and I owe it all to you,' he said.

The trials and troubles of Jim Dennis's earlier days were past, and the autumn of his life was full of peace and contentment.

THE END