Presently he resumed,—
“And now, my boy, I have, as you see, pictured a case where they lived happy ever afterwards, Mat, I have told you my own experience, and though, if it were necessary, I could tell you of many matrimonial careers, where the ending has not been as related in various fairy tales, yet believe me that my picture, the one I now tell you of, is drawn from my life, my very own. And before I quit the subject I will give you a theory of mine which I stand by, and against which I am positive there are few exceptions, and that is, that in ninety-nine cases out of every hundred, when two young people are thrown together for any length of time into each other’s society, it invariably ends by their feeling that they are necessary to each other, that they cannot part, that they are, in fact, what is generally understood as being in love with each other.
“My boy, I have given you a long enough sermon, but I am inclined to give you one or two more of my ‘notions,’ as I find you such a patient member; these ideas I likewise stand by, and have given forth publicly, and by so doing I am aware that I have made many enemies.
“I have tried hard to preach down the frightful expenditure of money that is spent when people marry; the parents and the young heads forgetting how useful that money would be in after years; and, turning to a very different subject, but one that must come to the minds of all men, I have the same ‘down’ on the hundreds of pounds which I have seen squandered on a funeral.
“In conclusion, to sum up, I have long thought that Annie is one of the sweetest and frankest girls I ever met. I have seen her temper severely tried many times by one who should have been the last to so test her, and though she was not aware that I was looking at her, I never saw that ‘mou’ in her mouth of which I have spoken, but always a bright smile on her face.
“And though I am sure it will make you jealous,” added Tabor with a smile, “I have been in love with her myself ever since I first knew her. As for her faults, I have yet to learn them; though I once overheard a prattling old woman say that ‘she has no character.’ You need not start, Mat, I will explain another time what that means; suffice it that for the present you may bear in mind that a woman with a great deal of ‘character’ very often means with a great deal of temper.
“As for you, Mat, well, you are not a bad fellow; so now let us go in to breakfast, unless you wish to continue pondering, and—God bless you!”
The parson got up, and walked towards the house; not so Mat; he remained sitting in the arbour, and puzzling over what he had heard; as for breakfast, it never entered his head; but let us follow his train of thoughts as he sat on that wooden bench.
“Tabor is a good man and speaks out; ain’t afraid of his opinions; what a lot he knows! I don’t believe he ever was selfish, not he. I’m glad now I didn’t have my name put down for that club when they wanted me to in Sydney; but if she would have me; I don’t believe she would mind; well, I’d be sure to be away all day amongst the cattle, but I don’t think when I came back she’d have a—what did the parson call it?—a ‘mou’ in her mouth; no, I never saw any sulks in her sweet mouth. No, before I go in, I will try and reason all the parson’s words out, and I’ll talk to my lock of golden hair, first.”
Mat’s hand stole into his breast, and, drawing forth a small leathern pouch, he took out of it a little lock of dark auburn hair, which he was in the act of reverently placing to his lips, when a light step sounded under the heavy creepers, which, twining their tendrils together, almost covered the entrance to the arbour, and, looking up, his eyes encountered those of Annie.