"
"Ah! going back to town, I suppose," said Mr. Frettlby, lying back in
his chair, and playing with his watch chain. "I don't know that you are
wise, exchanging the clear air of the country for the dusty atmosphere
of Melbourne."
"Yet Madge tells me you are going back," said Brian, idly
toying with a vase of flowers on the table.
"Depends upon circumstances," replied the other carelessly. "I may and
I may not. You go on business, I presume?"
"Well, the fact is Calton--" Here Brian stopped suddenly, and bit his
lip with vexation, for he had not intended to mention the lawyer's
name.
"Yes?" said Mr. Frettlby, interrogatively, sitting up quickly, and
looking keenly at Brian.
"Wants to see me on business," he finished, awkwardly.
"Connected with the sale of your station, I suppose," said Frettlby,
still keeping his eyes on the young man's face.
"Can't have a better man. Calton's an excellent man of business."
"A little too excellent," replied Fitzgerald, ruefully, "he's a man who
can't leave well alone."
"A PROPOS of what?"
"Oh, nothing," answered Fitzgerald, hastily, and just then his eyes met
those of Frettlby. The two men looked at one another steadily for a
moment, but in that short space of time a single name flashed through
their brains--the name of Rosanna Moore. Mr. Frettlby was the first to
lower his eyes, and break the spell.
"Ah, well," he said, lightly, as he rose from his chair and held out
his hand, "if you are two weeks in town, call at St.
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