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Rh lean her arm upon the white rails and gaze into space. I went back to my tent for the verse I had written, meaning to hand it to the bereaved mother when she had come to the front of the tent, and saw the still motionless figure standing at the graves. She had not moved. I thought I knew what was passing in her mind. I remembered the heart-ache I had suffered when one I loved was almost taken from me. I had gone through the agony of it all—I had suffered—and I knew how she was suffering now. I could not see so far away, in the moonlight, but I pictured the hot tears trickling down the poor pained face—and for a moment she seemed transformed—she was beautiful. I had been standing for perhaps a minute watching, when, between me and the moonlight, I became conscious of a moving object. It was all in white—almost ghostlike—and it glided across the Police paddock in the soft, yielding, unsounding sand, so silently it seemed almost unreal. I looked steadily and recognized the thin frail figure of the "Sub's" wife. She glided on and on—past the rough turnstile in the wire fence of the paddock, and into the long grass, and towards the solitary figure at the graves. It was a solemn moment. These two devoted women—in the solitary bush—a thousand miles from any city—the one sorrowing, the other, in her womanly way, coming out into the night to comfort her.

And the two stood in the soft, silver light, alone! The moon shone gloriously—the silence had grown intense—for the birds were roosting, and the insects dumb, and the horse bells silent.

God was over all!

Suddenly the stillness was broken. A rather harsh voice mingled in exclamations of delight with a little soft one:

"Well, I declare! I didn't know you were back."

"I've had the time of my life. Herberton was simply great. And you know Emma's not going to