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Rh all the other gentlemen, to the bachelors' quarters, where, judging from the sounds of revelry that floated on the night, he was doubtless enjoying himself.

head station at Tunimba was astir betimes, and long before the big bell clanged for breakfast, preparations on the race-course had begun and flags marked the line of running, and waved on the top of an extemporized Grand Stand. Frank Hal let t was waiting in the verandah when Lady Horace and Elsie came out. They were in their habits, like most of the other ladies, since nearly everybody was to ride to the course.

"I thought you might like me to show you your places at the breakfast table," he said. "Most have gone in. There are a quantity of people here already, and more coming from everywhere."

Breakfast was not in the dining-room to-day, but in the old woolshed—a large slab bark building, about a hundred yards beyond the courtyard, which was always utilized on these occasions, and in which they were to dance in the evening. Tunimba had once been a sheep-station, in the days before the Halletts had bought it, but sheep did not do well on the Luya. On an Australian station an a "old woolshed" is an institution, and the homestead which possesses one is usually the centre for the festivities of the district.

It was a queer picturesque place, with its dark walls, and beamed and raftered ceiling, and it had been decorated with creepers from the scrub, and now looked very gay indeed, filled with a chattering crowd—bushmen in immaculate moleskins and flaring ties, and with a generally brown, healthy, and excited appearance' ladies in habits, some of