" But this was an
unfortunate line of argument to have hit on, and Polly blushed and
stumbled.
Mahony laughed at her slip, and smoothed her hair. "Typical fates, love!
They mustn't be mine. Besides, Polly, you're forgetting the main thing--
how I hate the place, and how I've always longed to get away."
"No, I'm not. But please let me go on.--You know, Richard, every one
believes some day Ballarat will be the chief city--bigger even than
Geelong or Melbourne. And then to have a good practice here would mean
ever such a lot of money. I'm not the only person who thinks so. There's
Sara, and Mrs. Beamish--I know, of course, you don't care much what
they say; but still--" Polly meant: still, you see, I have public
opinion on my side. As, however, once more words failed her, she
hastened to add: "John, too, is amazed to hear you think of going home
to bury yourself in some little English village. He's sure there'd be a
splendid opening for you here. John thinks very, very highly of you. He
told me he believes you would have saved Emma's life, if you had been
there."
"I'm much obliged to your brother for his confidence," said Mahony
dryly; "but--"
"Wait a minute, Richard! You see, dear, I can't help feeling myself that
you ought not to be too hasty in deciding. Of course, I know I'm young,
and haven't had much experience, but . . . You see, you're KNOWN here,
Richard, and that's always something; in England you'd be a perfect
stranger.
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