“What nonsense!” cried Archie; “what extravagant folly, Bob!”
“All right,” said Bob quietly. “I’ve no money, but—” He pulled out his splendid gold hunter.
“What are you going to do?”
“Why, let them scramble for the watch.”
“No, no, Bob; I’ll throw the coins.”
“You have to,” said Bob, sitting down, laughing.
The dinner, and the dance afterwards, were completely successful. There was no over-crowding, and no stuck-up-ness, as Bob called it. Everybody did what he pleased, and all were as happy and jolly as the night was long.
Bob did not go away on any particular honeymoon. He told Sarah they would have their honeymoon out when they went to the Bush.
Meanwhile, day after day, for a week, the miner bridegroom kept open house for Archie’s friends; and every morning some delightful trip was arranged, which, faithfully carried out, brought everyone hungry and happy back to dinner.
There is more beauty of scenery to be seen around Sydney in winter than would take volumes to describe by pen, and acres of canvas to depict; and, after all, both author and artist would have to admit that they had not done justice to their subject.