diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51404-0.txt | 9441 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51404-0.zip | bin | 188776 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51404-h.zip | bin | 289503 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51404-h/51404-h.htm | 12739 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51404-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 82431 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51404-h/images/i_002.jpg | bin | 7001 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 22180 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a7d944a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51404 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51404) diff --git a/old/51404-0.txt b/old/51404-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 38d8b7a..0000000 --- a/old/51404-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9441 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Plain Living, by Rolf Boldrewood - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Plain Living - A Bush Idyll - -Author: Rolf Boldrewood - -Release Date: March 8, 2016 [EBook #51404] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLAIN LIVING *** - - - - -Produced by KD Weeks, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - Transcriber’s Note: - -This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects. -Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. - -Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please -see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding -the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PLAIN LIVING - _A BUSH IDYLL_ - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PLAIN LIVING - _A BUSH IDYLL_ - - BY - - - ROLF BOLDREWOOD - - AUTHOR OF “ROBBERY UNDER ARMS,” “THE MINER’S RIGHT,” ETC. - - - =London= - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 1898 - - _The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved._ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, - LONDON AND BUNGAY. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PLAIN LIVING - - _A BUSH IDYLL_ - - - - - CHAPTER I - - -Mr. Stamford was riding slowly, wearily homeward in the late autumnal -twilight along the dusty track which led to the Windāhgil station. The -life of a pastoral tenant of the Crown in Australia is, for the most -part, free, pleasant, and devoid of the cares which assail so mordantly -the heart of modern man in cities. - -But striking exceptions to this rule are furnished periodically. “A dry -season,” in the bush vernacular, supervenes. In the drear months which -follow, “the flower fadeth, the grass withereth” as in the olden Pharaoh -days. The waters are “forgotten of the footstep”; the flocks and herds -which, in the years of plenty, afford so liberal an income, so -untrammelled an existence to their proprietor, are apt to perish if not -removed. Prudence and energy may serve to modify such a calamity. No -human foresight can avert it. - -In such years, a revengeful person could desire his worst enemy to be an -Australian squatter. For he would then behold him hardly tried, sorely -tormented, a man doomed to watch his most cherished possessions daily -fading before his eyes; nightly to lay his head on his pillow with the -conviction that he was so much poorer since sunrise. He would mark him -day by day, compelled to await the slow-advancing march of -ruin—hopeless, irrevocable—which he was alike powerless to hasten or -evade. - -If he were a husband and a father, his anxieties would be ingeniously -heightened and complicated. The privations of poverty, the social -indignities which his loved ones might be fated to undergo, would be -forever in his thoughts, before his eyes, darkening his melancholy days, -disturbing his too scanty rest. - -Such was the present position, such were the prospects, of Harold -Stamford of Windāhgil. As he rode slowly along on a favourite -hackney—blood-like, but palpably low in condition—with bent head and -corrugated brow, it needed but little penetration to note that the “iron -had entered into his soul.” - -Truth to tell, he had that morning received an important letter from his -banker in Sydney. Not wholly unexpected; still it had destroyed the -remnant of his last hope. Before its arrival he had been manfully -struggling against fate. He had hoped against hope. The season might -change. How magical an alteration would forty-eight hours of steady rain -produce! He might be able to tide over till next shearing. The station -was being worked with the strictest economy. How he grudged, indeed, the -payment of their wages to the men who performed the unthankful task of -cutting down the _Casuarina_ and _Acacia pendula_, upon which the -starving flocks were now in a great measure kept alive! - -But for that abnormal expenditure, he and his boy Hubert, gallant, -high-hearted fellow that he was, might make shift to do the station work -themselves until next shearing. How they had worked, too, all of them! -Had not the girls turned themselves into cooks and laundresses for weeks -at a time! Had not his wife (delicate, refined Linda Carisforth—who -would have thought to see a broom in those hands?) worn herself -well-nigh to death, supplementing the details of household work, when -servants were inefficient, or, indeed, not to be procured! And was this -to be the end of all? Of the years of patient labour, of ungrudging -self-denial, of so much care and forethought, the fruit of which he had -seen in the distance, a modest competence, an assured position? A -well-improved freehold estate comprising the old homestead, and a -portion of the fertile lands of Windāhgil, once the crack station of the -district, which Hubert should inherit after him. - -It was hard--very hard! As he came near the comfortable, roomy cottage, -and marked the orchard trees, the tiny vineyard green with trailing -streamers in despite of the weary, sickening, cruel drought, his heart -swelled nigh to bursting as he thought how soon this ark of their -fortunes might be reft from them. - -Surely there must be some means of escape! Providence would never be so -hard! God’s mercy was above all. In it he would trust until the actual -moment of doom. And yet, as he marked the desolate, dusty waste across -which the melancholy flocks feebly paced; as he saw on every side the -carcases of animals that had succumbed to long remorseless famine; as he -watched the red sun sinking below the hard, unclouded sky, a sense of -despair fell like lead upon his heart, and he groaned aloud. - -“Hallo, governor!” cried out a cheery voice from a clump of timber which -he had approached without observing, “you and old Sindbad look pretty -well told out! I thought you were going to ride over me and the team, in -your very brown study. But joking apart, dear old dad, you look awfully -down on it. Times are bad, and it’s never going to rain again, is it? -But we can’t afford to have you throwing up the sponge. _Fortuna favet -fortibus_, that’s our heraldic motto. Why, there are lots of chances, -and any amount of fortunes, going begging yet.” - -“Would you point out one or two of them, Master Hubert?” said his -father, relaxing his features as he looked with an air of pride on the -well-built youngster, who stood with bare throat and sun-bronzed, sinewy -arms beside a dray upon which was a high-piled load of firewood. - -“Well, let us see! if the worst comes to the worst, you and I must clear -out, governor, and take up this new Kimberley country. I’ve got ten -years’ work in me right off the reel.” Here the boy raised his head, and -stretched his wide, yet graceful shoulders; “and so have you, dad, if -you wouldn’t fret so over what can’t be helped. You’d better get home, -though, mother’s been expecting you this hour. I’ll be in as soon as -I’ve put on this last log. This load ought to keep them in firewood for -a month.” - -“You’re a good boy, Hubert. I’ll ride on; don’t knock any more skin off -your hands than is absolutely necessary, though,” pointing to a bleeding -patch about half an inch square, from which the cuticle had been -recently removed. “A gentleman should consider his hands, even when he -is obliged to work. Besides, in this weather there is a little danger of -inflammation.” - -“Oh, that!” said the youngster with the fine carelessness of early -manhood. “Scratches don’t count in the bush. I wish my clothes would -heal of themselves when they get torn. It would save poor mother’s -everlasting stitch, stitch, a little, and her eyes too, poor dear! Now, -you go on, dad, and have your bath, and make yourself comfortable before -I come in. A new magazine came by post to-day, and the last -_Australasian_. Laura’s got such a song too. We’re going to have no end -of an evening, if you’ll only pull yourself together a bit. Now you -won’t fret about this miserable season, will you? It’s bad enough, of -course, but it’s no use lying down to it—now, is it?” - -“Right, my boy; we must all do our best, and trust in God’s mercy. He -has helped us hitherto. It is cowardly to despair. I thank Him that I -have children whom I can be proud of, whether good or ill fortune -betide.” - -Mr. Stamford put spurs to his horse. The leg-weary brute threw up his -head gamely, and, true to his blood, made shift to cover the remaining -distance from the homestead at a brisk pace. As he rode into the stable -yard, a figure clad in a jersey, a pair of trousers, and a bathing -towel, which turned out to be an eager lad of twelve, ran up to him. - -“Give me Sindbad, father; I’m just going down to the river for a swim, -and I’ll give him one too. It will freshen him up. I’ll scrape him up a -bit of lucerne, just a taste; his chaff and corn are in the manger all -ready.” - -“Take him, Dick; but don’t stay in too long. It’s getting dark, and tea -will soon be ready.” - -The boy sprang into the saddle, and, touching the old horse with his -bare heels, started off on a canter over the river meadow, now -comparatively cool in the growing twilight, towards a gravelly ford in -which the mountain water still ran strong and clear. - -With a sigh of relief, his father walked slowly forward through the -garden gate and into the broad verandah of the cottage. Dropping -listlessly into a great Cingalese cane chair, he looked round with an -air of exhaustion and despondency. Below him was a well-grown orchard, -with rows of fruit trees, the size and spreading foliage of which showed -as well great age as the fertility of the soil. The murmuring sound of -the river over the rocky shallows was plainly audible. Dark-shadowed -eucalypti marked its winding course. As the wearied man lay motionless -on the couch, the night air from the meadow played freshly cool against -his temples. Stars arose of wondrous southern brilliancy. Dark blue and -cloudless, the sky was undimmed. Strange cries came from the woods. A -solemn hush fell over all things. It was an hour unspeakably calm and -solemn—restful to the spirit after the long, burdensome, heated day. - -“Ah, me!” sighed he; “how many an evening I have enjoyed from this very -spot, at this self-same hour! Is it possible that we are to be driven -out even from this loved retreat?” - -A sweet girlish voice suddenly awoke him from his reverie, as one of the -casement windows opened, and a slight, youthful figure stood at his -shoulder. - -“No wonder you are ashamed, you mean old daddy! Here have mother and I -been exerting ourselves this hot afternoon to provide you with a -superior entertainment, quite a club dinner in its way; attired -ourselves, too, in the most attractive manner—look at me, for -instance—and what is our reward? Why, instead of going to dress -sensibly, you sit mooning here, and everything will be spoiled.” - -“My darling! I am ready for my bath, I promise you; but I am tired, and -perhaps a little discouraged. I have had a long day, and seen nothing to -cheer me either.” - -“Poor old father! So have we all; so has mother, so has Hubert, so have -I and Linda. But it’s no use giving in, is it? Now walk off, there’s a -dear! You’re not so very tired, unless your constitution has broken down -all of a sudden. It takes a good day to knock you up, that I know. But -we must all put a good face on it—mustn’t we?—till we’re _quite_ sure -that the battle’s lost. The Prussians may come up yet, you know!” - -He drew the girl’s face over to his own, and kissed her fondly. Laura -Stamford was indeed a daughter that a father might proudly look upon, -that her mother might trust to be her best aid and comfort, loving in -prosperity, lightsome of heart as the bird that sings at dawn, brave in -adversity, and strong to suffer for those she loved. - -All innocent she of the world’s hard ways, its lurid lights, its dread -shadows. Proud, pure, unselfish in every thought and feeling, all the -strength of her nature went out in fondness for those darlings of her -heart, the inmates of that cherished home, wherein they had never as yet -known sorrow. The fateful passion which makes or mars all womanhood was -for her as yet in the future. What prayers had ascended to Heaven that -her choice might be blessed, her happiness assured! - -“This is the time for action, no more contemplation,” she said, with a -mock heroic air; “the shower bath is filled; your evening clothes are -ready in the dressing-room; mother is putting the last touch to her cap, -Andiamo!” - -When the family met at the tea-table—a comprehensive meal which, though -not claiming the rank of dinner, furnished most of its requisites—Mr. -Stamford owned that life wore a brighter prospect. - -His wife and daughters in tasteful, though not ostentatious, evening -attire would have graced a more brilliant entertainment. The boys, cool -and fresh after their swim in the river, were happy and cheerful. -Hubert, correctly attired, and much benefited by his bath and toilette, -had done justice to his manifest good looks. - -The well-cooked, neatly served meal, with the aid of a few glasses of -sound Australian Reisling, was highly restorative. All these permissible -palliatives tended to recreate tone and allay nervous depression. “The -banker’s letter notwithstanding, things might not be so very bad,” the -squatter thought. He would go to town. He might make other arrangements. -It might even rain. If the worst came to the worst, he might be able to -change his account. If things altered for the better, there was no use -desponding. If, again, all were lost, it were better to confront fate -boldly. - - * * * * * - -“Shall I pull through, after all?” said Mr. Stamford to himself, for the -fiftieth time, as he looked over the morning papers at Batty’s Hotel, -about a week after the occurrences lately referred to. In a mechanical -way, his eyes and a subsection of his brain provided him with the -information that, in spite of his misfortunes, the progress of -Australian civilisation went on pretty much as usual. Floods in one -colony, fires in another. The Messageries steamer _Caledonien_ just in. -The _Carthage_ (P. and O.) just sailed with an aristocratic passenger -list. Burglars cleverly captured. Larrikins difficult of extinction. The -wheat crop fair, maize only so-so. These important items were registered -in the brooding man’s duplex-acting brain after a fashion. But in one -corner of that mysterious store-house, printing machine, signal-station, -whatnot, _one thought_ was steadily repeating itself with bell-like -regularity. “What if the bank’s ultimatum is, no further advance, no -further advance, no further ad—--” - -After breakfast, sadly resolved, he wended his way to the palace of -finance, with the potentate of which he was to undergo so momentous an -interview. - -Heart-sick and apprehensive as he was, he could not avoid noting with -quick appreciation the sights and sounds of civilisation which pressed -themselves on his senses as he walked in a leisurely manner towards the -Bank of New Guinea. “What wonders and miracles daily pass before one’s -eyes in a city,” he said to himself, “when one has been as long away -from town as I have! What a gallery of studies to a man, after a quiet -bush life, is comprised in the everyday life of a large city! What -processions of humanity—what light and colour! What models of art, -strength, industry! What endless romances in the faces of the very men -and women that pass and repass so ceaselessly! Strange and how wonderful -is all this! Glorious, too, the ocean breath that fans the pale faces of -the city dwellers! What would I not give for a month’s leisure and a -quiet heart in which to enjoy it all!” - -The solemn chime of a turret clock struck ten. It aroused Stamford to a -sense of the beginning of the commercial day, and his urgent necessity -to face the enemy, whose outposts were so dangerously near his fortress. - -The ponderously ornate outer door of the Bank of New Guinea had but just -swung open as he passed in, preceding but by a second a portly, -silk-coated personage, apparently equally anxious for an early -interview. He looked disappointed as he saw Stamford make his way to the -manager’s room. - -For one moment he hesitated, then said: “If your business is not -important, sir, perhaps you won’t mind my going in first?” - -“I’m sorry to say it _is_ important,” he replied, with his customary -frankness; “but I will promise you not to take up a minute more of Mr. -Merton’s valuable time than I can help.” - -The capitalist bowed gravely as Harold Stamford passed into the fateful -reception-room, of which the very air seemed to him to be full of -impalpable tragedies. - -The manager’s manner was pleasant and gentlemanlike. The weather, the -state of the country, and the political situation were glanced at -conversationally. There was no appearance of haste to approach the -purely financial topic which lay so near the thoughts of both. Then the -visitor took the initiative. - -“I had your letter last week about my account, Mr. Merton. What is the -bank going to do in my case? I came down on purpose to see you.” - -The banker’s face became grave. It was the crossing of swords, _en -garde_ as it were. And the financial duel began. - -“I trust, Mr. Stamford, that we shall be able to make satisfactory -arrangements. You are an old constituent, and one in whom the bank has -reposed the fullest confidence; but,” here the banker pushed up his -hair, and his face assumed an altered expression, “the directors have -drawn my attention to the state of your account, and I feel called upon -to speak decidedly. It must be reduced.” - -“But how am I to reduce it? You hold all my securities. It is idle to -talk thus; pardon me if I am a little brusque, but I must sell -Windāhgil—sell the old place, and clear out without a penny if I do not -get time—a few months of time—from the bank! You know as well as I do -that it is impossible to dispose of stations now at a reasonable price. -Why, you can hardly get the value of the sheep! Look at Wharton’s Bundah -Creek how it was given away the other day. Fifteen thousand good sheep, -run all fenced, good brick house, frontage to a navigable river. What -did it bring? Six and threepence a head. Six and threepence! With -everything given in, even to his furniture, poor devil! Why, the ewe -cost him twelve shillings, five years before. Sale! It was a murder, a -mockery! And is Windāhgil to go like that, after all my hard work? Am I -and my children to be turned out penniless because the bank refuses me -another year’s grace? The seasons are just as sure to change as we are -to have a new moon next month. I have always paid up the interest and -part of the principal regularly, have I not? I have lived upon so little -too! My poor wife and children for these last long years have been so -patient! Is there no mercy, not even ordinary consideration to be shown -me?” - -“My dear Mr. Stamford,” said the manager kindly, “do not permit yourself -to be excited prematurely. Whatever happens you have my fullest -sympathy. If any one receives consideration from the bank, you will do -so. You have done everything that an energetic, honourable man could -have done. I wish I could say the same of all our constituents. But the -seasons have been against you, and you must understand that, although -personally I would run any fair mercantile risk for your sake, even to -the extent of straining my relations with the directors, I have not the -power; I must obey orders, and these are precise. If a certain policy is -decided upon by those who guide the affairs of this company, I must -simply carry out instructions. Yours is a hard case, a _very_ hard case; -but you are not alone, I can tell you in confidence.” - -“Is there nothing I can do?” pleaded the ruined man, instinctively -beholding the last plank slipping from beneath his feet. - -“Don’t give in yet,” said Merton kindly. “Get one of these newly-started -Mortgage and Agency Companies to take up your account. They have been -organised chiefly, I am informed, with a view to get a share of the -pastoral loan business, which is now assuming such gigantic proportions. -They are enabled to make easier terms than we can afford to do; though, -after all, this station pawn business is not legitimate banking. If you -have any friend who would join in the security it would, perhaps, smooth -the way.” - -“I will try,” said Stamford, a ray of hope, slender but still definite, -illumining the darkness of his soul. “There may be a chance, and I thank -you, Mr. Merton, for the suggestion, and your wish to aid me. Good -morning!” He took his hat and passed through the waiting-room, somewhat -sternly regarded by the capitalist, who promptly arose as the inner door -opened. But Harold Stamford heeded him not, and threading the thronged -atrium, re-entered once more the city pageant, novel and attractive to -him in spite of his misery. To-day he mechanically took the seaward -direction, walking far and fast until he found himself among the smaller -shops and unmistakable “waterside characters” of Lower George Street. -Here he remembered that there were stone stairs at which, in his -boyhood’s days, he had so often watched the boats return or depart on -their tiny voyages. A low stone wall defended the street on that side, -while permitting a view of the buildings and operations of a wharf. -Beyond lay the harbour alive with sail and steam. In his face blew -freshly the salt odours of the deep, the murmuring voice of the sea wave -was in his ears, the magic of the ocean stole once more into his being. - -In his youth he had delighted in boating, and many a day of careless, -unclouded joy could he recall, passed amid the very scenes and sounds -that now lay around him. Long, happy days spent in fishing when the fair -wind carried the boy sailors far away through the outer bays or even -through the grand portals where the sandstone pillars have borne the -fret of the South Pacific deep for uncounted centuries. The long beat -back against the wind, the joyous return, the pleasant evening, the -dreamless slumber. He remembered it all. What a heaven of bliss, had he -but known it; and what an inferno of debt, ruin, and despair seemed -yawning before him now! - -He leaned over the old stone wall and watched mechanically the shadow of -a passing squall deepen the colour of the blue waters of the bay. After -a while, his spirits rose insensibly. He even took comfort from the fact -that after the sudden tempest had brooded ominously over the darkening -water, the clouds suddenly opened—the blue sky spread itself like an -azure mantle over the rejoicing firmament—the golden sun reappeared, and -Nature assumed the smile that is rarely far from her brow in the bright -lands of the South. - -“I may have another chance yet,” Stamford said to himself. “Why should I -despair? Many a man now overladen with wealth has passed into a bank on -such an errand as mine, uncertain whether he should return (financially) -alive. Are not there Hobson, Walters, Adamson—ever so many others—who -have gone through that fiery trial? I must fight the battle to the end. -My Waterloo is not yet lost. ‘The Prussians may come up,’ as darling -Laura said.” - -Although receiving the advice of Mr. Merton, whom he personally knew and -respected, mainly in good faith, he was sufficiently experienced in the -ways of the world to mingle distrust with his expectations. It was not -such an unknown thing with bankers to “shunt” a doubtful or unprofitable -constituent upon a less wary student of finance. Might it not be so in -this case? Or would not the manager of the agency company indicated -regard him in that light? How hard it was to decide! However, he would -try his fortune. He could do himself no more harm. - -So he turned wearily from the dancing waters and the breezy bay, and -retracing his steps through the crowded thoroughfare, sought the -imposing freestone mansion in which were located the offices of the -Austral Agency Company. - -“How these money-changing establishments house themselves!” he said. -“And we borrowers pay for it with our heart’s blood,” he added, -bitterly. “Here goes, however!” - -He was not doomed on this occasion to any lingering preparatory torture, -for in that light he had come to regard all ante-chamber detentions. He -accepted it as a good omen that he was informed on sending in his card, -that Mr. Barrington Hope was disengaged, and would be found in his -private room. - - CHAPTER II - - -Mr. Stamford was at once strongly prepossessed in favour of the man -before whom he had come prepared to make a full statement of his -affairs, and to request—to all but implore—temporary accommodation. Bah! -how bald a sound it had! How unpleasant the formula! And yet Harold -Stamford knew that the security was sound, the interest and principal -nearly as certain to be paid in full as anything can be in this -uncertain world of ours. Still, such was the condition of the money -market that he could not help feeling like a beggar. His pride rebelled -against the attitude which he felt forced to take. Nevertheless, for the -sake of the sweet, careworn face at home, the tender flowerets he loved -so well, he braced himself for the ordeal. - -Mr. Barrington Hope’s appearance, not less than his manner, was -reassuring. A tall, commanding figure of the true Anglo-Saxon type, his -was a countenance in which opposing qualities seemed struggling for the -mastery. - -In the glint of the grey eyes, in the sympathetic smile, in the deep, -soft voice there was a wealth of generosity, while the firm mouth and -strongly set jaw betokened a sternness of purpose which boded ill for -the adversary in any of the modern forms of the duello—personal or -otherwise. - -“Mr. Stamford,” he said, “I have heard your name mentioned by friends. -What can I do for you? But if it be not a waste of time in your -case—though you squatters are not so hard-worked in town as we slaves of -the desk—we might as well lunch first, if you will give me the pleasure -of your company at the Excelsior. What do you say?” - -Mr. Stamford, in his misery, had taken scant heed of the hours. He was -astonished to find that the morning had fled. He felt minded to decline, -but in the kindly face of his possible entertainer he saw the marks of -continuous mental exertion, mingled with the easily-recognised imprints -of anxious responsibility. A feeling of sadness came over him, as he -looked again—of pity for the ceaseless toil to which it seemed hard that -a man in the flower of his prime should be doomed—that unending mental -grind, of which he, in common with most men who have lived away from -cities, had so cordial an abhorrence. “Poor fellow!” he said to himself, -“he is not more than ten years older than Hubert, and yet what an -eternity of thought seems engraven in his face. I should be sorry to see -them change places, poor as we are, and may be.” He thought this in the -moment which he passed in fixing his eyes on the countenance of -Barrington Hope. What he said, was: “I shall have much pleasure; I -really did not know it was so late. My time in town, however, is -scarcely so valuable as yours. So we may as well devote half an hour to -the repairing of the tissue.” - -Mr. Stamford’s wanderings in Lower George Street and the unfamiliar -surroundings of the metropolis had so far overcome the poignancy of his -woe as to provide him with a reasonable appetite. The _cuisine_ of the -Excelsior, and the flavour of a bottle of extremely sound Dalwood -claret, did not appeal to his senses in vain. The well-cooked, -well-served repast concluded, he felt like another man; and though -distrusting his present sensations as being artificially rose-coloured, -he yet regarded the possibility of life more hopefully. - -“It has done me good,” he said in his heart; “and it can’t have done him -any harm. I feel better able to stand up to hard Fate and her shrewd -blows than before.” - -They chatted pleasantly till the return to the office, when Mr. Hope -hung up his hat, and apparently removed a portion of his amiability of -expression at the same time. He motioned his visitor to a chair, -produced a box of cigars, which, with a grotesque mediæval matchbox, he -pushed towards him. Lighting one for himself, he leaned back in his -chair and said “Now then for business!” - -The squatter offered a tabulated statement, originally prepared for the -bank, setting forth the exact number of the livestock on Windāhgil, -their sexes and ages, the position and area of the run, the number of -acres bought, controlled or secured; the amount of debt for which the -bank held mortgage, the probable value of the whole property at current -rates. Of all of which particulars Mr. Hope took heed closely and -carefully. Mr. Stamford became suddenly silent, and indeed broke down at -one stage of the affair, in which he was describing the value of the -improvements, and mentioning a comfortable cottage, standing amid a -well-grown orchard on the bank of a river, with out-buildings of a -superior nature grouped around. - -Then Mr. Hope interposed. “You propose to me to take up your account, -which you will remove from the Bank of New Guinea. You are aware that -there is considerable risk.” - -(“Hang it!” Mr. Stamford told himself; “I have heard that surely before. -I know what you are going to say now. But why do you all, you -financiers, like to keep an unlucky devil so on the tenter-hooks?”) - -Mr. Hope went on quietly and rather sonorously. “Yes! there has been a -large amount of forced realisation going on of late. Banks are -tightening fast. The rainfall of the interior has been exceptionally -bad. I think it probable that the Bank of New Guinea has none too good -an opinion of your account. But I always back my own theory in finance. -I have great reason to believe, Mr. Stamford, that heavy rain will fall -within the next month or two. I have watched the weather signs carefully -of late years. I am taking—during this season, at any rate—a strong lead -in wool and stock, which I expect to rise. Everything is extremely low -at present—ruinously so, the season disastrously dry. But from these -very dry seasons I foretell a change which must be for the better. I -have much pleasure in stating that the Austral Agency Company will take -up your account, Mr. Stamford, and carry you on for two years at the -same rate of interest you have been paying.” - -Mr. Stamford made a commencement of thanking him, or at least of -expressing his entire satisfaction with the new arrangement; but, -curious to relate, he could not speak. The mental strain had been too -great. The uncertain footing to which he had so long been clinging -between ruin and comparative safety had rendered his brain dizzy. - -He had been afraid to picture the next scene of the tragedy, when the -fatal fiat of the Bank Autocrat should have gone forth,—the wrench of -parting from the dear old place they had all loved so well. The -unpretending, but still commodious dwelling to which he had brought his -fond, true wife, while yet a young mother. The garden in which they had -planted so many a tree, so many a flower together. The unchecked freedom -of station life, with its general tone of abundance and liberality. All -these surroundings and comforts were to be exchanged—if things were not -arranged—for what? For a small house in town, for a lower—how much -lower!—standard of life and society, perhaps even for poverty and -privation, which it would cut him to the heart to see shared by those -patient exiles from their pastoral Eden. - -When Mr. Stamford had sufficiently recovered himself he thanked Mr. Hope -with somewhat unaccustomed fervour, for he was an undemonstrative man, -reserved as to his deeper feelings. But the manager of the Austral -Agency Company would not accept thanks. “It may wear the appearance of a -kindness, but it is not so in reality,” he said. “Do not mistake me. It -is a hard thing to say, but if it seemed such to me, it would be my duty -not to do it. It is the merest matter of calculation. I am glad, of -course, if it falls in with your convenience.” - -Here he looked kindly at his client—for such he had become—as if he fain -would have convinced him of his stern utilitarian temperament. But, as -he had remarked before, Mr. Hope’s eyes and his sentiments contradicted -one another. - -“You have saved my home, the valued outcome of many a year’s hard -work—it may be my life also. That is all. And I’m not to thank you? Do -not talk in so cold-blooded a manner; I cannot bear it.” - -“My dear sir,” said Mr. Hope, with calm, half-pitying expression, “I am -afraid you are not a particularly good man of business. It is as unfair -to praise me now for ‘carrying you on’ for another year or two, as it -will be to blame me for selling you up some fine day, if I am compelled -to do so.” - -“Anyhow, it is a reprieve from execution. When shall I call again?” - -“To-morrow morning, before twelve, let us say. I shall want you to sign -a mortgage—a necessary evil; and if you bring me an exact amount of your -indebtedness to the Bank of New Guinea, I will give you a cheque for -it.” - -“A cheque for it!” How magnificent was the sound. Mr. Stamford had drawn -some tolerably large cheques in his time, which had been duly honoured, -but of late years the cheque-drawing method had fallen much into -abeyance. - -Nevertheless, he felt like Aladdin, suddenly gifted with the wonderful -lamp. The sense of security and the guarantee of funds, for even their -moderate and necessary expenses, appeared to open to him vistas of -wealth and power verging on Oriental luxury. - -He lost no time; indeed he just managed to gain his bank before its -enormous embossed outer door was closed, when he marched into the -manager’s room with so radiant a countenance that the experienced -centurion of finance saw plainly what had happened. - -“Don’t trouble yourself to speak,” he said. “It’s all written on your -forehead. We bankers can decipher hieroglyphs invisible to other men. -‘Want my account made up—securities ready to be delivered—release—cheque -for amount in full.’ Who is the reckless _entrepreneur_?” - -“The Austral Agency Company,” he replied, feeling rather cooled down by -this very accurate mind-reading; “but you seem to know so much, you -ought to know that too.” - -“My dear fellow, I congratulate you!” Mr. Merton said, getting up and -shaking him warmly by the hand. “I beg your pardon; but really, any -child could see that you had been successful; and I began to think that -it must have been one of Barrington Hope’s long shots. A very fine -fellow, young but talented; in finance operates boldly. I don’t say he’s -wrong, mind you, but rather bold. Everything will be ready for you -to-morrow morning. Look in just before ten—by the private door.” - -Mr. Stamford did look in. How many times had he walked to those same -bank doors with an aching heart, in which the dull throb of conscious -care was rarely stilled! Many times had he quitted that building with a -sense of temporary relief; many times with a more acutely heightened -sense of misery, and a conviction that Fate had done her worst. But -never, perhaps, before had he passed those fateful portals with so -marked a sense of independence and freedom as on the present occasion. - -He had cast away the burden of care, at any rate for two years—two whole -years! It was an eternity in his present state of overwrought feeling. -He felt like a man who in old days had been bound on the rack—had -counted the dread contrivances for tearing muscles and straining -sinews—who had endured the first preliminary wrench, and then, at a -word, was suddenly loosed. - -Such was now his joyous relief from inward agony, from the internal -throbs which rend the heart and strain to bursting the wondrous tissue -which connects soul and sense. The man who had decreed all this was to -him a king—nay, as a god. And in his prayer that night, after he had -entreated humbly for the welfare of wife and children in his absence, -and for his own safe return to their love and tenderness, Barrington -Hope came after those beloved names, included in a petition for mercy at -the hands of the All-wise. - -It was not a long business that clearing of scores with the Bank of New -Guinea under these exceptional circumstances. Such and such was the -debit balance, a sufficiently grave one in a season when it had not -rained, “to signify,” for about three years, when stock was unsalable, -when money was unprecedentedly tight, but not, perhaps amounting to more -than one-third of the real value of the property. Here were the -mortgages. One secured upon the freehold, the other upon stock and -station, furniture and effects. - -“Yes!” admitted Mr. Stamford, looking over it. “It is a comprehensive -document; it includes everything on the place—the house and all that -therein is, every hoof of stock, hacks and harness horses, saddles and -bridles—only excepting the clothes on our backs. Good God! if we had -lost all! And who knows whether we may not have to give them up yet.” - -“My dear Stamford,” said the banker, “you’re almost too sentimental to -be a squatter, though I grant you it requires a man of no ordinary power -of imagination to look forward from your dusty pastures and dying sheep -(as I am informed) to a season of waving grass and fat stock. Why only -this morning, I see that on Modlah, North Queensland, they have lost -eighty thousand sheep already!” - -“That means they’ll have a flood in three months,” answered Stamford, -forcing a laugh. “We _must_ have rain. This awfully sultry weather is -sure to bring it on sooner or later.” - -“Ah! but when?” said Mr. Merton, corrugating his brow, as he mentally -ran over the list of heavily-weighted station accounts to which this -simple natural phenomenon would make so stupendous a difference. “If you -or I could tell whether it would fall in torrents this year or next, it -would be like—--” - -“Like spotting the winner of the Melbourne Cup before the odds began to -shorten—eh, Merton? Good Heavens! to think I feel in a mood to jest with -my banker. That dread functionary! What is it Lever says—that -quarrelling with your wife is like boxing with your doctor, who knows -where to plant the blow that would, maybe, be the death of you? Such is -your banker’s fatal strength.” - -“I envy you your recovered spirits, my dear fellow,” said the -over-worked man of figures, with a weary smile, glancing towards a pile -of papers on his table. “Perhaps things will turn out well for you and -all of us after all. You are not the only one, believe me, whose fate -has been trembling in the balance. You don’t think it’s too pleasant for -us either, do you? Well, I’ll send young Backwater down to Barrington -Hope with these documents. You can go with him, and he will give a -receipt for the cheque. For the rest, my congratulations and best -wishes.” He pressed an electric knob, the door opened, a clerk looked -in. “Tell Mr. Overdue I am at liberty now. Good bye, Stamford, and God -bless you!” - -On the previous day Mr. Stamford had betaken himself to his hotel -immediately after quitting Mr. Barrington Hope’s office, and poured out -his soul with fullest unreserve in a long letter to his wife, in which -he had informed her of the great and glorious news, and with his usual -sanguine disposition to improve on each temporary ray of sunshine, had -predicted wonders in the future. - -“What my present feelings are, even you, my darling Linda—sharer that -you have ever been in every thought of my heart—can hardly realise. I -know that you will say that only the present pressure is removed. The -misfortune we have all so long, so sadly dreaded, which involves the -loss of our dear old home, the poverty of our children, and woe -unutterable for ourselves, may yet be slowly advancing on us. You hope I -will be prudent, and take nothing for granted until it shall have been -proved. I am not to relax even the smallest endeavour to right -ourselves, or suffer myself to be led into any fresh expense, no matter -how bright, or rather (pastoral joke of the period) how cloudy, the -present outlook, till rain comes—until rains comes; even then to -remember that there is lost ground to recover, much headway to make up. - -“My dearest, I am as sure that you have got all these warning voices -ready to put into your letter as if you phonographed them, and I -recognised the low, sweet tones which have ever been for me so instinct -with love and wisdom. But I feel that, on this present occasion—(I hear -you interpose, ‘My dearest Harold, how often have you said so -before!’)—there is no need for any extraordinary prudence. I am -confident that the season will change, or that something advantageous -will happen long before this new advance is likely to be called in. Mr. -Hope assures me that no sudden demand will at any time be made, that all -reasonable time will be given; that if the interest be but regularly -paid, the Company is in a position, from their control of English -capital, to give better terms than any colonial institution of the same -nature. I see you shake your wise, distrustful head. My dearest, you -women, who are said to be gifted with so much imagination in many ways, -possess but little in matters of business. I have often told you so. -This time I hope to convince you of the superior forecast of our sex. - -“And now give my love to our darlings. Tell them I shall give practical -expression to my fondness for them for this once, only this once; -really, I must be a little extravagant. I shall probably stay down here -for another week or ten days. - -“Now that I am in town I may just as well enjoy myself a little, and get -up a reserve fund of health and strength for future emergencies. I don’t -complain, as you know, but I think I shall be all the better for another -week’s sea air. I met my cousin, Bob Grandison, in the street to-day. -Kind as usual, though he studiously avoided all allusion to business; -wanted me to stay at Chatsworth House for a few days. I wouldn’t do -that. I don’t care for Mrs. Grandison sufficiently; but I am going to a -swell dinner there on Friday. And now, dearest, yours ever and always, -fondly, lovingly, HAROLD STAMFORD.” - -Having sent off this characteristic epistle, Mr. Stamford felt as easy -in his mind as if he had provided his family with everything they could -possibly want for a year. He was partially endowed with that -Sheridanesque temperament which dismissed renewed acceptances as -liabilities discharged, and viewed all debentures as debts of the future -which a kindly Providence might be safely trusted to find means to pay. - -Capable of extraordinary effort under pressure or the excitement of -emergency; personally economical; temperate, and, above all, benevolent -of intention towards every living creature, it must be admitted that -Harold Stamford was instinctively prone frankly to enjoy the present and -to take the future on trust. - -Much of this joyous confidence had been “knocked out of him”—as he -familiarly phrased it—by the austere course of events. He had for five -years worked harder than any of his own servants. He had contented -himself with but the bare necessaries of food and clothing. Nothing had -been purchased that could in any way be done without by that -much-enduring, conscientious household, the members of which had made -high resolve to do battle with remorseless Nature and unmerited -misfortune. - -And well indeed had all fought, all endured, during the long, dreary, -dusty summers—the cloudless, mocking, rainless winters of past years. -The family garrison had stood to their guns; had not given back an inch. -The men had toiled and ridden, watched and worked, from earliest dawn to -the still, starlit depths of many a midnight. The tenderly-nurtured -mother and her fair, proud girls had cooked the dinners, washed the -clothes, faithfully performed all, even the humblest, household work, -with weary hands and tired eyes, for weeks and months together. Still, -through all the uncongenial drudgery, their hearts had been firm with -hope and the pride of fulfilled duty. And now Harold Stamford told -himself that the enemy was in retreat, that the siege was about to be -raised. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -Mr. Stamford, having fulfilled his home duties temporarily in this -liberal and satisfactory manner, felt himself at liberty to enter upon -justifiable recreations with an easy conscience. He was by no means a -person of luxurious tastes. But there had been always certain dainty -meats, intellectually speaking, which his soul loved. These are rarely -to be met with save in large cities. It had been an abiding regret with -this man that his narrow circumstances had shut him out from the inner -circles of art and literature. Now, he promised himself, at any rate, a -taste of these long-forbidden repasts. - -On this memorable afternoon he betook himself only to the sea-marge, -where he lay dreaming in the shade of an overhanging fig-tree during the -closing hours of day. What an unutterable luxury was it to his -desert-worn soul thus to repose with the rhythmic roll of the surges in -his ear—before his half-shut eyes the wondrous, ever-changing magic -mirror of the ocean! - -“What an alteration,” thought he, “had a single day wrought in his -destiny! What a different person was he from the care-burdened, -desponding man who had seen no possible outlet from the path of sorrow -and disaster, at the end of which lay the grisly form of Ruin, like some -fell monster watching for prey. Now the airs of Paradise were around -him. The fresh salt odours of the deep, the whispering breezes which -fanned his cheek, which cooled his throbbing brow, how strangely -contrasted were these surroundings with the shrivelled, arid waste, the -burning sun-blast, the endless monotony of pale-hued woodland, which he -had so lately quitted!” - -As the low sun fell beneath the horizon verge, he watched the golden -wavelet and the crimson sky mingle in one supreme colour study. He heard -the night wind come moaning up from misty unknown seas of the farthest -South, where the hungry billow lay hushed to rest in eternal ice-fields, -where dwelt the mystery and dread of polar wastes. - - * * * * * - -Then, with the darkening eve, the pageant glided into the vestibule of -night and Mr. Stamford somewhat hastily arose, bethinking himself of the -dining hour at Chatsworth House. He had not overmuch time to spare, but -a few minutes before the appointed hour his cab deposited him beside the -Pompeian mosaic which composed the floor of the portico. A wide, cool -hall, gay with encaustic tiles, received him, thence to be ushered by -the accurately-costumed footman into the drawing-room, already fairly -astir with the expected company. - -He was not an unfamiliar guest, but his present temper inclined him to -consider more closely the curious inequalities of life—the various modes -in which persons, not widely differing in tastes and aspirations, are -socially encircled. What a contrast was there between the abounding -luxury here heaped up, pressed down and running over, and the homely -surroundings of his own home, from which nevertheless the danger of -departure had well-nigh driven him mad. The parquet floors, the -glittering treasures of the overmantels, the lounges, the dado, the -friezes, the rare china, the plaques, the antique and the modern -collections, each a study, the cost of which would have gone nigh to buy -halt Windāhgil. - -When the hostess was informed by the imposing butler that dinner was -served, and the guests filed into the dining-room, Mr. Stamford was -nearly as much astonished by the magnificence of the repast and the -concomitants thereof as if he had for the first time in his life beheld -such splendours. In earlier days, now almost forgotten, such repasts had -been to him sufficiently familiar. But these latter seasons of drought -and despair had wholly, or in great part, excluded all thought of the -pomps and vanities of life. So he smiled to himself, as he took the arm -of Miss Crewit the _passée_ society damsel to whom, by the fiat of Mrs. -Grandison, he had been allotted, to find that his first thought was of -startled surprise—his second of the habitudes which came to him as by -second nature, and a conviction that he must have witnessed such -presentments in a former state of existence. - -All was very splendid, beyond denial. What was otherwise was -æsthetically rare and almost beyond price. Antique carved furniture, -mediæval royal relics, a sideboard which looked like an Egyptian -sarcophagus, contrasted effectively with the massiveness of the plate, -the glory of the glass, the triumph of the matchless Sèvres -dinner-service. In perfect keeping was the quiet assiduity of the -attendants, the quality of the iced wines, the perfection and finish of -the whole entertainment. - -“Rather a contrast to the tea-table at Windāhgil!” Harold Stamford said -to himself; “not but what I should have been able to do things like this -if I could have held on to those Kilbride blocks for another year. Only -another year!” and he sighed involuntarily. “It is very fine in its way, -though I should be sorry to have to go through this ordeal every -evening. Grandison doesn’t look too happy making conversation with that -deaf old dowager on his right. He was brighter looking in the old -working-time, when he used to drop in at Din Din, where we had a glass -of whisky before bedtime with a smoke and a good talk afterwards. Bob -certainly read more or less then. He begins to look puffy too; he -doesn’t see much of the library now, I’m afraid, except to snore in it.” - -Here his fair neighbour, who had finished her soup and sipped her -sherry, began to hint an assertion of social rights. - -“Don’t you think dear Josie looks a little pale and thin, though she is -exquisitely dressed as usual? But I always say no girls can stand the -ceaseless excitement, the wild racketing of a Sydney season. Can they, -now?” - -“To my eye she looks very nice, pale if you like; but you don’t expect -roses and lilies with the thermometer at 80° for half the year, except -when it’s at 100°.” - -“Well, perhaps you’re right; but it isn’t the climate altogether in her -case, I should say. It’s the fearfully exciting life girls of her -_monde_ seem to lead nowadays. It’s that which brings on the wrinkles. -You notice her face when she turns to the light.” - -“Are women worse than they used to be, do you think; or is Josie more -dissipated than the rest of her age and sex?” queried Stamford. - -“I don’t know that, though they do say that she is the fastest of a very -fast set; and between you and me, there have been some rather queer -stories about her, not that I believe a word of them. But the girls -nowadays do go such awful lengths; they say and do such things, you -don’t know _what_ to believe.” - -“Ah! well, she’s young and happy, I suppose, and makes the most of her -opportunities of enjoyment. My old friend, Bob Grandison, has been -lucky, and his family seem to have everything they can possibly want.” - -“Everything, indeed, and more besides. (Chablis, if you please!) Then I -suppose you knew Mr. Grandison when he was not quite so well off? They -say he got into society rather suddenly; but I’m afraid it doesn’t do -the young people quite as much good as it might. There’s the eldest son, -Carlo, as they call him—he used to be Charlie when I first knew them.” - -“Why, what about him? Nothing wrong, is there? He seems a fine lad.” - -“Well, nothing wrong yet. Not yet; oh, no! Only he spends half his time -at the club, playing billiards from morning till night, and he’s always -going about with that horrid gambling Captain Maelstrom. They do say—but -you won’t let it go further—that he was one of that party at loo when -young Weener lost five thousand pounds, and such a scandal arose out of -it.” - -“Good heavens! You horrify me! A mere boy like that! It can’t be true; -surely not.” - -“I heard it on good authority, I assure you, and other stories too, -which I can’t repeat—really too shocking to talk about. See how -_empresse_ he is with that Mrs. Loreleigh! What men see in that women I -really can’t think.” - -“My old friend had both sense and right feeling once upon a time,” said -Stamford. “He can’t be so weak as to allow all this.” - -“He does all he can, poor old gentleman; but Mrs. Grandison is so -absurdly vain about Carlo’s good looks, and the fine friends he goes -about with, that she can’t see any danger. Lord Edgar Wildgrave and that -Sir Harry Falconer who was here last year (you know they do say that -Josie broke her heart about Lord Edgar, and that makes her so reckless). -But I know his father is very uneasy about him, and well he may be. I’m -afraid Ned bids fair to follow in his brother’s footsteps. Thanks—I will -take an olive.” - -“What a wretched state of things!” groaned Mr. Stamford, almost audibly. -“I must hope, for the sake of my friend’s family, that matters may be -exaggerated.” - -“I wish they are, with all my heart,” said the candid friend. “They -always have such delicious fruit here, haven’t they? I must say they do -things well at Chatsworth House. I always enjoy a dinner here. I see -Mrs. Grandison making a move. Thanks!” - -And so Miss Crewitt followed the retreating file of ladies that, headed -by Mrs. Grandison’s stately form, quitted the dining-room, leaving Mr. -Stamford much disordered with the unpleasant nature of the ideas which -he had perforce absorbed with his dinner. He could not forgive his late -neighbour for introducing them into his system. - -“Confounded, venomous, ungrateful cat!” he said in his righteous wrath. -“How she enjoyed every mouthful of her dinner, pouring out malice and -all uncharitableness the while! Serves Mrs. Grandison right, all the -same. If she’d picked me out a nice girl, or a good motherly dame, I -should not have heard all this scandal about her household. But what a -frightful pity it seems! I must talk to Grandison about it.” - -At this stage Mr. Stamford was aroused by his host’s voice. “Why, -Harold, old man, where have you got to? Close up, now the women are -gone. Bring your chair next to Carlo.” - -He walked up as desired, the other guests having concentrated themselves -in position nearer the head of the table, and found himself next to the -heir of the house, Mr. Carlo Grandison. That young gentleman, whom he -had observed during dinner talking with earnestness to a lady no longer -young, but still handsome and interesting, in spite of Miss Crewitt’s -acidulated denial of the fact, did not trouble himself to be over -agreeable to his father’s old friend. - -He devoted himself, however, with considerable assiduity to the -decanters as they passed, and drank more wine in half an hour than Mr. -Stamford had ever known Hubert to consume in a month. - -He did talk after a while, but his conversation was mainly about the -last Melbourne Cup, upon which he admitted that he had wagered heavily, -and “dropped in for,” to use his own expression, “a beastly facer.” - -“Was not that imprudent?” asked Mr. Stamford, as he looked sadly at the -young man’s flushed face. “Don’t you think it a pity to lose more than -you can afford?” - -“Oh! the governor had to stand the racket, of course,” he said, filling -his glass; “and a dashed row he made about it—very bad form, I told -him—just as if a thousand or two mattered to him. Do you know what we -stood to win?” - -“Well, but you didn’t win!” - -“I suppose in the bush, Mr. Stamford, you don’t do much in that way,” -answered the young man with aristocratic hauteur, “but Maelstrom and I, -Sir Harry Falconer and another fellow, whose name I won’t mention, would -have pulled off forty-five thousand if that infernal First Robber hadn’t -gone wrong the very day of the race. Think of that! He was poisoned, I -believe. If I had my will I’d hang every blessed bookmaker in the whole -colony. Never mind, I’ll land them next Melbourne Spring.” - -“If there were no young gentlemen who backed the favourite, there would -be fewer bookmakers,” replied Stamford, peaceably. “But don’t you think -it a waste of time devoting so much of it to horseracing?” - -“What can a fellow do? There’s coursing, to be sure, and they’re getting -up a trotting match. I make believe to do a little work in the -governor’s office, you know, but I’m dead beat to get through the day as -it is.” - -“Try a year in the bush, my dear boy. You could soon learn to manage one -of your father’s stations. It would be a healthy change from town life.” - -“By Jove! It _would_ be a change indeed! Ha, ha! ‘Right you are, says -Moses.’ But I stayed at Banyule one shearing, and I give you my word I -was that sick of it all that I should have suicided if I had not been -let come to town. The same everlasting grind—sheep, supers, and -saltbush; rides, drives, wire fences, dams, dampers, and dingoes—day -after day. At night it was worse—not a blessed thing to amuse yourself -with. I used to play draughts with the book-keeper.” - -“But you could surely read! Books are easy to get up, and there are -always neighbours.” - -“I couldn’t stand reading out there, anyhow; the books we had were all -dry stuff, and the neighbours were such a deuced slow lot. Things are -not too lively in Sydney, but it’s heaven compared with the bush. I want -the governor to let me go to Europe. I should fancy Paris for a year or -so. Take another glass of this Madeira; it’s not an everyday wine. No! -Then I will, as I see the governor’s toddlin’.” - -In the drawing-room matters were in a general way more satisfactory. A -lady with a voice apparently borrowed from the angelic choir was singing -when they entered, and Mr. Stamford, passionately fond of music, moved -near the grand piano to listen. The guests disposed themselves _au -plaisir_. - -Master Carlo, singling out Mrs. Loreleigh, devoted himself to her for -the rest of the evening, with perfect indifference to the claims of the -other lady guests. - -“What a lovely voice Mrs. Thrushton has!” said his hostess to Stamford, -as soon as the notes of enchantment came to an end. - -“Lovely indeed!” echoed he; “it is long since I have heard such a song, -if ever—though my daughter Laura has a voice worth listening to. But -will not Miss Grandison sing?” he said after a decent interval. - -“Josie has been well taught, and few girls sing better when she likes,” -said her mother with a half sigh; “but she is so capricious that I can’t -always get her to perform for us. She has got into an argument with -Count Zamoreski, that handsome young Pole you see across the room, and -she says she’s not coming away to amuse a lot of stupid people. Josie is -quite a character, I assure you, and really the girls are so dreadfully -self-willed nowadays, that there is no doing anything with them. But you -must miss society so much in the bush! Don’t you? There are very few -nice men to be found there, I have heard.” - -“We are not so badly off as you suppose, Mrs. Grandison. People even -there keep themselves informed of the world’s doings, and value art and -literature. I often think the young people devote more time to mental -culture than they do in town.” - -“Indeed! I should hardly have supposed so. They can get masters so -easily in town, and then again the young folks have such chances of -meeting the best strangers—people of rank, for instance, and so on—that -they never can dream of even _seeing_, away from town. Mr. Grandison -wanted me to go into the bush when the children were young; and indeed -one of his stations, Banyule, was a charming place, but I never would -hear of it.” - -“A town life fulfilled all your expectations, I conclude.” - -“Yes, really, I think so; very nearly, that is to say. Josie has such -ease of manner and is so thoroughly at home with people in every rank of -life that I feel certain she will make her mark some day.” - -“And your son Carlo?” - -“Well, I don’t mind telling you, as an old friend, Mr. Stamford, that -Mr. Grandison is uneasy about him sometimes, says he won’t settle down -to anything, and is—well not really dissipated, you know, but inclined -to be fast. But I tell him that will wear off as he gets older. Boys -will be boys. Besides, see what an advantage it is to him to be in the -society of men like Captain Maelstrom, Sir Harry Falconer, and people of -that stamp.” - -“I am not so sure of that, but I trust all will come right, my dear Mrs. -Grandison. It is a great responsibility that we parents undertake. There -is nothing in life but care and trouble, it seems to me, in one form or -another. And now, as I hear the carriages coming up, I will say good -night.” - -Mr. Stamford went home to his hotel, much musing on the events of the -evening, nor was he able to sleep, indeed, during the early portion of -the night, in consequence of the uneasiness which the unsatisfactory -condition of his friend’s family caused him. - -“Poor Grandison!” he said to himself. “More than once have I envied him -his easy circumstances. I suppose it is impossible for a man laden with -debt and crushed with poverty to avoid that sort of thing. But I shall -never do so again. With all my troubles, if I thought Hubert and Laura -were likely to become like those two young people as a natural -consequence, I would not change places with him to-morrow. The boy, so -early _blasé_, with evil knowledge of the world, tainted with the -incurable vice of gambling, too fond of wine already, what has he to -look forward to? What will he be in middle age? And the girl, selfish -and frivolous, a woman of the world, when hardly out of her teens, -scorning her mother’s wishes, owning no law but her own pleasure, -looking forward but to a marriage of wealth or rank, if her own -undisciplined feelings stand not in the way! Money is good, at any rate, -as far as it softens the hard places of life; but if I thought that -wealth would bring such a blight upon my household, would so wither the -tender blossoms of hope and faith, would undermine manly endeavour and -girlish graces, I would spurn it from me to-morrow. I would—--” - -With which noble and sincere resolve Mr. Stamford fell asleep. - -Upon awaking next morning, he was almost disposed to think that the -strength of his disapproval as to the younger members of the Grandison -family might only have been enthusiasm, artificially heightened by his -host’s extremely good wine. “That were indeed a breach of hospitality,” -he said to himself. “And after all, it is not, strictly speaking, my -affair. I am grown rusty and precise, it may be, from living so -monotonous a life in the bush, so far removed from the higher -fashionable existence. Doubtless these things, which appear to me so -dangerous and alarming, are only the everyday phenomena of a more -artificial society. Let us hope for the best—that Carlo Grandison may -tone down after a few years, and that Miss Josie’s frivolity may subside -into mere fashionable matronhood.” - -Mr. Stamford finished his breakfast with an appetite which proved either -his moderation in the use of the good familiar creature over-night, or a -singularly happy state of the biliary secretions. He then proceeded in a -leisurely way to open his letters. Glancing at the postmark “Mooramah,” -the little country town near home, and recognising Hubert’s bold, firm -handwriting, he opened it, and read as follows:— - - -“MY DEAR OLD DAD,—I have no doubt you are enjoying yourself quietly, but -thoroughly, now that you have cleared off the Bank of New Guinea and got -in with the Austral Agency Company. Mother says you are to give yourself -all reasonable treats, and renew your youth if possible, but not to -think you have the Bank of England to draw upon just yet. - -“I told her you were to be trusted, and I have a piece of good news for -you, which will bear a little extravagance on its back. I am very glad -we were able to pay off that bank. - -“They had no right to push you as they did. However, I suppose they -can’t always help it. Now for the news, if some beastly telegram has not -anticipated it. We have had RAIN! - -“Yes, rain in large letters! What do you think of that? Forty-eight -hours of steady rain! Five inches sixty points! Didn’t it come -down!—cats and dogs, floods and waterspouts! - -“The drought has broken up. The river is tearing down a banker. You can -see the grass grow already. All bother about feed and water put safely -away for a year at least. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! - -“I have sent most of the sheep out back. Dams all full, but none carried -away, thank goodness! - -“I got the hill paddock fence finished and the weaners all into it -yesterday. Didn’t get home till midnight. - -“The run like a batter pudding, soaked right down to the bed rock. We -shall have more grass than we can use. Old Saville (Save-all, I call -him!) would sell five thousand young sheep, mixed sexes. He wants to -realise. If Mr. Barrington Hope, or whatever his name is, will stand it, -they would pay to buy. Wire me if I can close, but of course I don’t -expect it. - -“I think I may safely treat myself to John Richard Green’s _Making of -England_ and Motley’s _Rise of the Dutch Republic_, so please post them. -Everything looking first-rate. Laura is writing too. - -“Your loving son, - -HUBERT STAMFORD.” - - -Next came a letter in a neat, characteristic, legible hand, not -angular-feminine, which he well knew:— - - -“OH! DARLING DAD,—We are all gone straight out of our senses with -joy. We have had such blessed and beauteous rain. The windows of -Heaven have indeed been opened—where else could such a lovely -downpour come from? - -“All our doubts and fears are cleared away. Hubert has been working -himself to death, poor boy; off before daylight and never home till -twelve or one in the morning. He says that we shall have the best -season known for years, and that nothing can possibly hurt the grass -for a whole twelvemonth. Besides, more rain is sure to come. They -always say that though. Some water came through here and there, but -it was a blessing that Hubert and the old splitter put the new roof -over the kitchen before the drought broke up. The dear garden looks -lovely, I have been sowing a few flower seeds—so fresh and beautiful -it is already. - -“I rode to one of the out-stations with Hubert yesterday, and we got -such glorious ferns coming back. I am sorry to say dear mother is -not over strong. The hot weather, and the old trouble, ‘no -servants,’ have been too much for her. Do you think you could bring -back a good, willing girl as cook and laundress—that would shift the -hardest part of the work off our shoulders—and I think Linda and I -could manage the house-work, and be thankful too? Try your best, -that’s a good old dad! - -“I have been reading _Middlemarch_ strictly in spare time, and am -getting on pretty well with my German and Italian. If you could -bring up two or three books, and by all means a pretty song or two, -we should have nothing left to wish for. Now that the rain has come, -it seems like a new world. I intend to do great things in languages -next year. How about Mrs. Carlyle’s letters? From the review we saw -in _The Australasian_, they must be deeply interesting. We expect -you to return quite restored to your old self. Write longer letters, -and I am always, - - “Your loving daughter, - - “LAURA STAMFORD.” - - -“So far, so good, indeed,” quoth Mr. Stamford to himself. “The year -has turned with a vengeance. Let me see what the _Herald’s_ -telegrams say. Lucky I did not look at the paper. So Hubert’s letter -gives me first news. Ah! another letter. Handwriting unknown, -formal, with the English postmark, too. No bad news, I hope. Though -I can hardly imagine any news of importance from the old country, -good or bad, now. Luckily, I am outside the pale of bad news for a -while, thanks to Barrington Hope and this breaking up of the -drought. What says the _Herald_? - - - ”MOORAMAH. - - “(From our Own Correspondent.) - -“Drought broken up. Heavy, continuous rain. Six inches in -forty-eight hours. Country under water. Dams full. A grand season -anticipated. - - -“Quite right for once, ‘Our Own Correspondent,’ albeit too prone to -pronounce the ‘drought broken up’ on insufficient data. But now -accurately and carefully observant. I drink to him in a fresh cup of -tea. - -“And now for the unknown correspondent. Here we have him.” - -Mr. Stamford carefully and slowly opened his letter, after examining -all outward superscription and signs. Thus went the unaccustomed -missive:— - -”HAROLD STAMFORD, ESQ., - “Windāhgil Station, Mooramah, - “New South Wales, Australia. - - ”LONDON, 23 Capel Court, - - “_April 14, 1883_. - -“SIR,—It has become our duty to announce the fact that, consequent -upon the death of your cousin, Godwin Stamford, Esq., late of -Stamford Park, Berkshire, you are entitled to the sum of one hundred -and seventy-three thousand four hundred and sixty-nine pounds -fourteen shillings and ninepence (£173,469 14_s._ 9_d._), with -interest from date, which sum now stands to your credit in the -Funds. - -“You are possibly aware that your cousin’s only son, Mark Atheling -Stamford, would have inherited the said sum, and other moneys and -property, at the death of his father, had he not been unfortunately -lost in his yacht, the _Walrus_, in a white squall in the -Mediterranean, a few days before the date of this letter. - -“In his will, the late Mr. Godwin Stamford named you, as next of -kin, to be the legatee of this amount, in the case of the deceased -Mark Atheling Stamford dying without issue. We have communicated -with our agent, Mr. Worthington, of Phillip Street, Sydney, from -whom you will be enabled to learn all necessary particulars. We -shall feel honoured by your commands as to the disposal or -investment of this said sum, or any part of it. All business with -which you may think fit to entrust our firm shall have prompt -attention.—We have the honour to be, Sir, your obedient servants, - - “WALLINGFORD, RICHARDS & STOWE.” - - -Mr. Stamford read the letter carefully from end to end, twice, -indeed, with an unmoved countenance. He pushed it away; he walked up -and down the room. Then he went into the balcony of the hotel and -gazed at the people in the street. He retired to his bed-room after -this, whence he did not emerge for a short space. - -Returning to the table he sat calmly down, gazing at his letter, and -again examining the signature, the important figures, which also had -the value set forth formally in writing. Yes, there was no mistake. -It was not seven thousand four hundred and sixty-nine pounds. -Nothing of the kind. One hundred and seventy thousand pounds and the -rest. “One hundred and seventy thousand!” He repeated the words over -and over again in a calm and collected voice. Then the tears rushed -to his eyes, and he laid his head on his hands and sobbed like a -child. - -“For what did it all mean? Nothing less than this. That he was a -rich man for life. That his wife, best-beloved, tender, patient, -self-sacrificing as she had always been since he took her, a -fresh-hearted, beautiful girl, from her father’s house, where she -had never known aught but the most loving care, the most elaborate -comfort, would henceforth be enabled to enjoy all the old pleasures, -even the luxuries of life, from which they had all been so long -debarred. They could live in Sydney or Melbourne, as it pleased them -best. They could even sojourn in London or Paris, and travel on the -continent of Europe. - -“The girls could have all the ‘advantages,’ as they are called, of -the best teaching, the best society, change of scene, travel. - -“Great Heaven! what a vista of endless bliss seemed opening before -him!” - -But then, as he sat and thought, another aspect of the case, dimly, -shadowy, of darker colours and stranger light, seemed to pass before -him. - -“Would the effect of the sudden withdrawal of all necessity for -effort, all reason for self-denial, be favourable to the development -of these tenderly-cultured, generous but still youthful natures? - -“When the cares of this world—which up to this point had served but -to elevate and ennoble—were dismissed, would ‘the deceitfulness of -riches’ have power to choke the good seed? - -“Would the tares multiply and flourish, overrunning the corn, and -would the uprooting of them import another trouble—a difficulty -which might be enlarged into a sorrow? - -“Would indolence and reckless enjoyment succeed to the resolute -march along the pathway of duty, to the prayerful trust in that -Almighty Father who granted strength from day to day? Would the -taste for simple pleasures, which now proved so satisfying, be lost -irrevocably, to be succeeded, perhaps, by a dangerous craving for -excitement, by satiety or indifferentism? - -“What guarantee was there for this conservation of the healthful -tone of body and mind when the mainsprings of all action, restraint, -and self-discipline were in one hour relaxed or broken? - -“Could he bear to behold the gradual degeneration which might take -place, which had so manifested itself, as he had witnessed, in -natures perhaps not originally inferior to their own?” - -Long and anxiously did Harold Stamford ponder over these thoughts, -with nearly as grave a face, as anxious a brow, as he had worn in -his deepest troubles. - -At length he arose with a resolved air. He left the hotel, and took -his way to the office of Mr. Worthington, whom he knew well, who had -been his legal adviser and the depository of all official -confidences for many years past. - -It was he who had drawn the deed by which the slender dowry of his -wife, with some moderate addition of his own, had been settled upon -her. He knew that he could be trusted implicitly with his present -intentions; that the secret he intended to confide in him this day -would be inviolably preserved. - -This, then, was the resolution at which Harold Stamford had arrived. -He would _not_ abruptly alter the conditions of his family life; he -would gradually and unostentatiously ameliorate the circumstances of -the household. But he would defer to a future period the information -that riches had succeeded to this dreaded and probable poverty. He -would endeavour to maintain the standard of “plain living and high -thinking,” in which his family had been reared; he would preserve it -in its integrity, as far as lay in his power until, with characters -fully formed, tried, and matured, his children would in all -probability be enabled to withstand the allurements of luxury, the -flatteries of a facile society, the insidious temptations of the -world, the flesh, and the devil. - -Intent upon removing such dangers from their path in life, he felt -himself warranted in using the _suppressio veri_ which he meditated. -And he implored the blessing of God upon his endeavours to that end. - -Then, again, the station? It must stand apparently upon its own -foundation. What pride and joy to Hubert’s ardent nature for the -next few years would it be to plot and plan, to labour and to -endure, in order to compass the freedom of the beloved home from -debt! Now that the rain _had_ come, that the account was in good -standing, he had felt so sanguine of success that it would be cruel -to deprive him of the gratification he looked forward to—the -privilege he so prized. - -And what task would employ every faculty of mind and body more -worthily, more nobly, than this one to which he had addressed -himself! Hubert’s favourite quotation occurred to him— - - And how can man die better - Than facing fearful odds, - For the ashes of his fathers, - And the temples of his gods? - -This he was wont to declaim when his mother, meeting him as he -returned from weary rides, chilled by winter frosts, burnt black -well-nigh by summer suns, had many a time and oft expostulated, -telling him that he would kill himself. - -The tears came into the father’s eyes as he thought of these things. - -“Poor Hubert! poor boy! How he has worked; how he means to work in -the future! We must manage not to let him overdo things now. I -daresay I shall be able to slacken the pace a little for him without -his suspecting the real cause.” - -As he thought of his son, sitting Centaur-like on his favourite -horse, with his head up, his throat bare, courage in his eye and -manly resolution in his whole bearing—wild to do anything that was -self-sacrificing, dangerous, laborious, fully repaid by a smile from -his mother, a kiss from Laura, a nod of approval from himself—he -could not help contrasting him with Carlo Grandison, the product, as -he surmised, of a life of ease—of a system where self-restraint had -been rendered obsolete. - -He thought of Laura’s patient labours, of her constancy to -uncongenial tasks, of her fresh, unsullied bloom, and sweet, -childlike nature. - -“God forbid!” he said, “that they should ever know wealth if such a -transformation is likely to take place in their character. I know -what they are now. It shall be my aim to preserve them in their -present innocence. Let them remain unspotted from the world. I must -invent a way by which fair development and mental culture may be -furnished. But as to taking them away from this humble retreat where -all their natural good qualities have so grown and flourished in the -healthful atmosphere of home life, it were a sin to do it. I have -made up my mind.” And here Mr. Stamford almost frowned as he walked -along and looked as stern as it was in his nature to do. - -On arriving at Mr. Worthington’s chambers, with the precious -document carefully secured within his pocket book, he found that -gentleman engaged. He, however, sent in his card with a request to -be admitted at his leisure upon business of importance, and received -a reply to the effect that if he could remain for a quarter of an -hour, the principal would be at liberty. - -The time seemed not so long with a tranquil mind. The days of the -torture-chamber were over. - -He employed it in re-considering the points of his argument, and -when the door of Mr. Worthington’s private room opened, he felt his -position strengthened. - -“Sorry to detain you,” said the lawyer, “but it is a rule of mine to -take clients as they come, great and small. Haven’t seen you for -some time, Mr. Stamford. Had rain, I hear, in your country; that -means everything—everything good. What can I do for you?” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -The eminent solicitor, than whom no man in his profession held more -family confidences, not to say secrets in trust, here fixed a pair -of keen grey eyes, not unkindly in expression, but marvellously -direct and searching, upon his visitor. - -“You have had a communication with reference to the subject of this -letter,” said Mr. Stamford, placing it before him. - -“Ah! Wallingford, Richards and Stowe—first-class men in the -profession. Now you mention it, I certainly have, and I congratulate -you heartily upon it. I have heard generally about your affairs, Mr. -Stamford; losses and crosses, bad seasons, and so on. It has come at -the right time, hasn’t it?” - -“It certainly has; but, curiously, I had managed, with the aid of -the grand change of season, to do without it. Now I have at once an -explanation and an uncommon request to make.” - -Mr. Worthington settled himself in his chair and took a pinch of -snuff. “My dear sir,” said he, “pray go on. I am in the habit of -hearing uncommon requests and curious explanations every day of my -life.” - -“Perhaps I may surprise even you a little. In the first place, does -any one know of this rather exceptional legacy which I have -received, or rather to which I am entitled?” - -Mr. Worthington unlocked an escritoire, opened a drawer labelled -“Private,” and took from it a letter in the same handwriting as the -one before them. “Here is Wallingford’s letter. It has been seen by -no eye but mine. It was answered by me personally. No other living -soul is aware of it.” - -“I have reasons, connected with my family chiefly, for not desiring -to permit my accession to a fortune, for such it is, to be known by -them, or by the public generally, till, at any rate, a certain -number of years has passed. Can this be done?” - -“Most assuredly, I can receive the money, which will then be at your -disposal. No one need be a jot the wiser.” - -“That’s exactly what I want you to do for me. To invest the amount -securely, and to let the interest accumulate for the present. At the -same time, I may, upon notice, be compelled to draw upon it.” - -“That can be easily done. The interest will be lodged in the -Occidental Bank—they have no directors there, by the way—to be drawn -out if required, by cheque signed by you and me or my partner at my -decease—must provide for everything, you know. If you require the -whole, or any part, you have but to let me know, and I can send you -the firm’s written guarantee that the money will be at your credit -at the bank referred to, on any given day.” - -“I am not likely to require the principal, but the interest I may -draw upon from time to time.” - -“The arrangement can be made precisely as you desire. When you -authorise us on that behalf, the principal sum can be transmitted to -this colony without delay. You will be able to secure seven or eight -per cent. interest upon mortgage here without risk; and, as I said -before, to draw, should you require, by giving reasonable notice. -The course you are about to adopt is unusual; but I presume your -reasons to be adequate. It is not my business to be concerned with -them further than regards their legal aspect.” - -“You have made my course easy, my dear sir, and relieved me of some -anxiety. I wish now to give instructions for the addition of a -codicil to my will, which is in your office. That being done, our -business will be over.” - -This truly momentous interview was at length concluded most -satisfactorily, as Mr. Stamford thought. He made his way back to his -hotel in a serious but not uncheerful state of mind, reserving till -the following day a last interview with Mr. Barrington Hope. - -On the morrow, when he betook himself to the offices of the Austral -Agency Company, he smiled as he thought with what different feelings -he had made his first entrance. How agitated had been his mind with -hope and fear! Scarcely daring to believe that he would receive -other than the stereotyped answer to so many such requests—“Would -have been happy under any other circumstances. Stock and stations -unsalable. The money market in so critical a condition. The company -have decided to make no further advances for the present. At another -time, probably,” and so forth. He knew the formula by heart. - -How fortunate for him that it had been the policy of this company, -shaped by the alert and enterprising financial instinct of -Barrington Hope, to entertain his proposal; to make the sorely -needed advance; to float the sinking argosy; to risk loss and -guarantee speculative transactions for the sake of extending the -business of the company and gaining the confidence of the great -pastoral interest. The bold stroke, carried out as to so many larger -properties than poor, hardly-pressed Windāhgil, had been successful. -The daring policy, now that the rain had come, had turned out to be -wisely prescient. Capitalists began to talk of the man who, -comparatively young, had shown such nerve and decision in the throes -of a financial crisis—such as had just passed, thank God! The -oft-quoted succour might have proceeded chiefly from a superior -quality of head. - -But Mr. Stamford told himself that to his dying day he should always -credit Barrington Hope with those attributes of the heart which were -rarely granted to meaner men. - -At the present interview there were of course mutual -congratulations. - -“Had rain, I saw by the telegram, my dear sir. Heartily glad for -your sake—indeed, for our own. Squatters fully appreciate the -benefit their class receives by such a glorious change in the -seasons. I wonder if they always remember their hard-worked -brethren, the managers of banks and finance companies, upon whose -weary brains such a weight of responsibility presses. Well, ‘to each -his sufferings, all are men condemned alike to groan,’ &c.; we must -bear our burdens as we best may. But this is very frivolous. It must -be the rain. Nearly six inches! Enough to make any one talk -nonsense. What can I do for you at present?” - -Mr. Stamford shortly gave a _résumé_ of Hubert’s letter, and -mentioned the store sheep. - -“Certainly, by all means; if, as I assume, you will have grass to -spare. Buy for cash and save the discount. Would you like to -telegraph? Excuse me.” He summoned a clerk. “Mr. Stamford wishes -this telegram sent at once.” He had written: “Buy store sheep at -once—for cash. Draw at sight.—BARRINGTON HOPE.—HUBERT STAMFORD, -Esq., Mooramah.” - -“Is that right? Mr. Bowker, you will see that message sent through.” -The door closed. “It is best not to lose time in these matters. -Don’t you think so? Prices are rising every hour; sheep might be -withdrawn.” - -Mr. Stamford was quite of the same opinion, and was moreover -delighted with the promptness with which the transaction was -concluded. - -“Shall you want more sheep before shearing? If so, don’t scruple to -buy.” - -“Well, we shall have more grass than we know what to do with, Hubert -says,” commenced Mr. Stamford, rather aghast at this magnificent -manner of buying all before him; “but I don’t know whether there is -not a risk of over-stocking.” - -“None whatever, I should say; take advantage of a good season when -it comes, that’s the modern stock policy. Some very successful men, -whose names I could tell you, always practise it. You will consult -your son when you go home and let me know. But, admitting that you -bought up to your carrying capacity, and sold all but your best -sheep directly after shearing, you might make all safe, as they say -at sea. Our Queensland constituents are buying largely to stock up -new country. As your district has a good name for wool, you would -have no difficulty in quitting them at a profit.” - -“That makes a difference, certainly,” said Mr. Stamford, to whose -mind—long a _tabula rasa_ as regards speculation, having been too -deeply occupied in compassing mere existence (pecuniarily -speaking)—gorgeous enterprises and profits commenced to present -themselves. “I will talk it over with Hubert, and let you know.” - -“Certainly; wire rather than write, though; in matters of importance -time is generally most precious. You are going; good bye! Most happy -that our business intercourse has progressed so favourably.” - -“You must permit me, my dear Mr. Hope, to say that I feel most -grateful,” said Mr. Stamford, standing up and holding out his hand, -“deeply grateful personally, for your kindness and courtesy, outside -of any business relation whatever. No, you must not stop me. I shall -feel it to my dying day, and I trust you will come and see us at our -home—the home you saved for us, I shall always think—whenever you -visit our part of the country.” - -The hand-clasp was sincere and hearty; the interview terminated. The -squatter went his way musingly down narrow, not over-straight George -Street, on either side of which towering freestone buildings seemed -to be uprising daily; while Barrington Hope addressed himself to a -pile of letters from which he hardly raised his head until the -closing of the office. As for Mr. Stamford, his day’s work was done. -He mechanically thought over the store sheep question, but his face -suddenly changed as he remembered in such matters he would be -absolved from all anxiety or doubt in future. What rest—rest—all -blessed rest of mind and body, would be his for all time to come! - -Are there any disorders, sorrows, misfortunes, here below which so -surely, if gradually, eat away the heart of man as those which -spring from pecuniary dearth or doubt? - -How the days are dimmed! How the nights are troubled! The glory of -the sky, the beauty of the flower, the breath of morn, the solemn -hush of midnight, Nature’s best gifts and treasures, how unheeded -all, if not despised are they, when exhibited before the wretched -thrall of debt! - -To the galley slave in old classic days what were the purple waters -of the Egean—the haunting beauty of the temple-crowned promontory? -The choral dances, the flower-wreathed fanes of the Greek Isles were -but mockeries to the haggard rowers of the trireme as she swept by, -all too close to land. The grim jest of the old-world humorist was -keenly close—that even the demons of the nethermost pit disdained to -torture the luckless debtor, so wasted and dried up was every -attribute of body and soul! - -And was he indeed the same Harold Stamford that paced this very -street wearily and so despondingly but one poor week agone? “And -without the timely aid of the Austral Agency Company,” thought he, -“I was even then so near to safety, to triumph! I feel like the man -who clung so long to a marsh pile the long night through, in dread -of drowning, and, dropping from exhaustion, found himself in four -feet of water. And how wretched and despairing was I, how little -hope was there in the world apparently! But for Linda and the -children, I could have found it in my heart to make a quick end, in -the harbour, of the misery which was becoming unendurable. It shows -that a man should never despair. There are always chances. Hundreds, -as poor Hubert said. But shall I ever forget Barrington Hope and his -kindness? No, or may God forget me in my need. And what a grand -fellow he seems to be!” - -Having satisfactorily finished his soliloquy, Mr. Stamford bethought -himself that he would make a parting call upon his friends, the -Grandisons. He was going home in a day or two now and should be -tolerably busy, he knew by experience, what with commissions and -other matters which he was but too apt to put off till the last -moment. - -The ladies were engaged. Mr. Grandison was, however, at home, and, -as it turned out, not in that cheerful frame of mind which befitted -so rich a man. He had the world’s goods in profusion, but as -Stamford marked his anxious brow and perturbed countenance, he saw -that something had gone wrong. - -“Oh, it’s you, is it?” Mr. Grandison said. “I was afraid it was a -young fellow just out from home—got letters to us—the Honourable Mr. -Devereux; he’s not a bad chap, but I don’t feel up to talking to a -youngster I never saw before and won’t see again after next week. -Come into my den and have a yarn, Harold. I want to talk to you. -And, I say, stop and have a quiet _tête-à-tête_ dinner. They’re -going out—Josie and her mother—to one of Ketten’s recitals, as they -call it. I’m in no humour for musical humbug, I can tell you. I’m -worried to death about that eldest boy of mine, Carlo. Stay, like a -good fellow, and you can advise me. I’m fairly puzzled.” - -This was a matter of charity, and old friendship besides. Stamford’s -heart was touched at the spectacle of his old comrade troubled and -in distress. He forgot the obtrusive magnificence, and thought of -the long past days when they rode together beneath burning sky or -winter storm, before one had found the road to fortune and the other -had taken the bye-path which had only ended in happiness. “All -right, Bob,” he answered. “You shall have all the help I can offer. -I’m sorry you’ve cause to be uneasy about the boy. We must hope for -the best though. Youthful imprudence is not so uncommon.” - -“It’s worse than that,” said Mr. Grandison, gloomily—with a -portentous shake of his head. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -Just as dinner was announced, the carriage behind the grand three -hundred guinea browns—perhaps the best pair in Sydney—rolled up to -the door. Mrs. Grandison and Miss Josie fluttered down the stairs a -few minutes afterwards in the full glory of evening costume. As host -and guest stood in the hall, the lady of the house vouchsafed a -slight explanation, mingled with faint regret that the latter was -not coming with them. - -“You know, Mr. Stamford, this is one of that dear Ketten’s last -recitals. We really could not afford to miss it—especially as our -friends, the Cranberrys, will be there. Lady C. sent a private -message to Josie that she _must_ go. I wanted to stop, for we really -are miserable about that wicked boy Carlo; but Josie said it -couldn’t make any difference to him, and why should we punish -ourselves because he chose to be selfish and extravagant.” - -Mr. Stamford could not wholly assent to these philosophical -propositions. He thought of what Laura’s pleasure in hearing the -musical magnate would have been on the same evening that Hubert had -been declared a defaulter as to play debts, and was socially, if not -legally, under a cloud. - -He simply bowed coldly. Then he saw the pained maternal expression -in Mrs. Grandison’s face, in spite of her worldliness and frivolity, -and his heart smote him. - -“My dear Mrs. Grandison,” he said, taking her hand, “I feel for you -most deeply.” - -Then suddenly came a voice from the carriage, in which Miss Josie -had ensconced herself. “Mamma, I shall catch cold if we wait one -moment longer. Hadn’t you better postpone your interesting talk with -Mr. Stamford?” - -Mrs. Grandison started, and then recovering herself, shook Mr. -Stamford’s hand. “You will talk it over with Robert, won’t you? You -are old friends, you know. Don’t let him be too hard on poor Carlo. -I’m sure he has a good heart. Pray come and see us again before you -leave.” - -The portly form of his hostess moved off at a swifter rate than her -appearance denoted. The footman banged the carriage door, and the -grand equipage rattled out over the mathematically accurate curves -of the drive. The dinner gong commenced to resound after a warlike -and sudden fashion, and caused Mr. Stamford to betake himself -hurriedly to the drawing-room. There he found Mr. Grandison standing -by the fire-place in a meditative position. - -Mr. Grandison turned at his friend’s entrance. “Seen Mrs. Grandison? -Has she told you about it? Well, they’re gone now, and we can talk -it over quietly. Come in to dinner. I’ve no appetite, God knows! but -I want something to steady my nerves.” - -The dinner, somewhat restricted for the occasion, was extremely -good, though his host ate little, confining himself to a cutlet and -some wonderful brown sherry. Not until the dessert was placed before -them and they were alone did he begin the subject which lay so near -to his heart. - -“Of course I know, Stamford, that young fellows like my boy can’t be -expected to live in a town like Sydney upon a screwy allowance—at -any rate not if they are to be seen in good company. Therefore I’ve -always said to Carlo, ‘Let me see you make your mark, and live like -a gentleman. That’s all I ask of you, and you sha’n’t want for a -hundred or two.’ I hadn’t got it to spend when I was his age—you -know that, Harold; but if I like my youngster to be a bit different -in some things, that’s my own affair, isn’t it, as long as I am -willing to pay for it? Well that’s all right, you say. Take some of -this claret, it won’t hurt you. It’s my own importation from -Bordeaux. Of course I didn’t want the boy to slave in an office, nor -yet to live in the bush year after year with nothing but station -hands to talk to. If Mrs. Grandison had done what I wanted her to -do, while the children were young, and lived quietly at Banyule, it -might have been different. There we could have had everything -comfortable; nearly as good as here. It would have been better for -me, and them too, I expect. But she wouldn’t see it, and that’s why -we’ve always lived in town.” - -“Still,” interposed Stamford, “though you have been well enough off -to afford to live where you pleased, I can’t imagine why Carlo -should not keep the course and run straight, even in Sydney, like -other young men of his age.” - -Mr. Grandison sighed and filled his glass. “Some do, and some don’t, -that’s about the size of it. I don’t know why the lad shouldn’t have -enjoyed himself in reason like young Norman McAllister, Jack -Staunton, Neil O’Donnell, and others that we know. They’ve always -had lots of money, too; they’ve been home to the Old Country and -knocked about by themselves, and I never heard that they’ve got into -rows or overrun the constable. How my boy should have made such a -fool of himself with a father that’s always stuck well to him, I -can’t think. I’m afraid we’ve thought too much of his swell friends’ -names and families, and not enough of their principles. I’ve told my -wife that before now.” - -“But what has he done?” asked Stamford. “If it’s a matter of a few -thousands, you can settle that easily enough—particularly now we’ve -had rain,” continued he, introducing the pleasantry as a slight -relief to his friend’s self-reproachful strain. - -“Yes, of course, I can do that, thank God! rain or no rain, though -it made a matter of thirty thousand profit to me on those back -Dillandra blocks—more than that. I shouldn’t care if the money was -all; but this is how it is. I may as well bring it straight out. It -seems that Carlo and Captain Maelstrom (d—--n him!—I never liked a -bone in his body) and some others were playing loo last week with a -young fellow whose father had just died and left him a lot of money. -The stakes ran up high—a deal higher than the club committee would -have allowed if they’d known about it. Well, just at first they had -it all their own way. This young chap was a long way to the -bad—thousands, they say. Then the luck turned, and after that they -never held a card. He played a bold game, and the end of it was that -Carlo and the Captain were ten thousand out, and of course neither -of them able to pay up. The Captain managed to get time, but Carlo, -like a fool, went straight off and said nothing about it. He was -afraid to come to me, it seems, as we’d had a row last time; so he -did the very worst thing he could have done and cleared out to -Tasmania. We got a letter yesterday. He’s over there now.” Here Mr. -Grandison fairly groaned, and looked piteously in his old friend’s -face. - -“Well, well! but after all,” said Mr. Stamford, “of course it’s bad -enough, gambling—high stakes and folly generally; but if you pay up, -things will be much as they were, and it will be a lesson to him.” - -“I hope it may be, but the worst of it is,” went on Mr. Grandison, -“that the whole thing came out, and there was a regular _exposé_. -The young fellow, Newlands, made a disturbance when he wasn’t paid, -swore he’d horsewhip Carlo whenever he met him, and went on -tremendously. Then the committee of the club took it up and talked -of expelling Maelstrom and him for playing for stakes above the -proper limit, and if the affair’s raked up it’s possible they will. -I paid up in full, of course, as soon as I could get to know the -amount. Newlands apologised very properly and all that. But the -mischief’s done! Carlo can’t show his face in Sydney for I don’t -know how long. All our hopes about his turning steady and settling -down are disappointed. It’s a round sum of money to throw away for -nothing, and worse than nothing. And what to do with the boy I don’t -know.” - -“It certainly _is_ a hard case for his parents,” said Mr. Stamford, -thoughtfully. “I scarcely know what to advise. A year or two on a -station, or a turn at exploring in the far north used to be thought -a remedy, or, at any rate, to hold out reasonable hope of amendment -by change of scene and fresh interests, but—--” - -“But that wouldn’t suit Carlo. He hates bush life—can’t live away -from excitement—and I’m afraid, if I sent him away against his will, -he’d take to drinking, or do something worse still. I’m at my wits’ -end. He seems to have got it into his head that I’m to provide for -him under any circumstances, and the consequence is he never thinks -of doing anything for himself.” - -“How do you think travel would act upon him? He has never seen the -Old World, ‘the kingdoms of the earth and the glory of them.’ Surely -that would rouse sufficient enthusiasm to counteract the meaner -pleasures?” - -“Carlo would never get further than Paris if I trusted him alone. -However, I shall have to try it, I suppose. The long and the short -of it will be that we shall be obliged to move _en famille_. I can’t -send him by himself after what has happened.” - -“I really do think it is the best thing you can do. You can afford -it easily. Station property is likely to look up for a few years -now. You have excellent managers, and it will most likely benefit -the other young people. I don’t see any objection; indeed everything -seems in favour of it.” - -“Of course we can do it,” said his friend, doubtfully; “but I didn’t -intend to leave for a year or two yet—until we could have entered -Cecil at one of the universities, and, in fact, made other -arrangements. But Carlo is the master of the situation at present—he -must be, as usual, considered before everything and everybody. Well, -I’m much obliged to you, Stamford; indeed I feel most grateful; it -has been a great relief to my mind to be able to talk the matter -over with you quietly, and I really believe this idea of yours of -travel abroad will suit everybody. Mrs. Grandison and Josie will be -wild with delight, I feel sure.” - -“I hope you will all have reason to be satisfied with the results of -the step; and now, as it is getting late, I will say good night.” - -“Good night, and thank you very much, old fellow! By the way, this -rain has reached your part of the world, I see; I suppose your -affairs are improving a bit now—look brighter, eh!” - -“I have been enabled to make satisfactory arrangements lately,” said -Stamford, shortly. “I have placed my account with the Austral Agency -Company and we got on very well.” - -“Ah, indeed. Rising man, that Barrington Hope. I wish—but it’s no -use wishing. Well, good night again! Nothing like being independent -of the banks; that’s always the safest line!” - -“Safest indeed,” thought his guest as he walked down the gravel -drive, just in time to miss the blazing lamps and chariot wheels -of Mrs. Grandison’s equipage, which bore herself and her daughter -back from the hall where the _maestro_ had been delighting the -_crême de la crême_ of fashionable musical Sydney. “Safest indeed; -but how is one to manage it with droughty seasons, and markets -practically closed? I think Master Bob might have asked that -question before. But his own troubles have been greater than mine, -poor fellow—greater, ah, a thousandfold. What bribe, indeed, would -tempt me to change places with him? However, we must hope for the -best, though I am afraid Carlo will only substitute Baden Baden -for Bent Street. Miserable boy!” - - * * * * * - -The sacrifice at the altar of friendship being duly performed, Mr. -Stamford addressed himself to the arrangements necessary for a -speedy return to the home which he had quitted under such depressing -conditions. How different were the sensations with which he set -about preparing for departure from those which he had good reason to -fear would have overshadowed his return journey! “The sad companion, -ghastly Care,” had retired, indefinitely banished, as far as human -foresight could discover. - -All difficulties, all doubt as to ways and means, had vanished. The -kind hand of Providence had been specially exerted for his benefit. -He hardly recognised in himself the sanguine individual that had -replaced his boding, desponding entity, tortured by vain regrets and -undefined dread; hopeless of succour alike from God and man! - -He went about his business with alacrity and a cheerful enjoyment of -life that even surprised himself. He seemed to have renewed his -youth. Tastes and fancies which had long been relegated to the realm -of the impossible reappeared like the wild-wood flowers of his own -land after the gracious rainfall of which he had received tidings. -He was now enabled to indulge them in moderation with a clear -conscience. - -And he savoured them with a relish akin to that of the returned -traveller after perils by land and sea, of the desert-worn pilgrim -who sees again the green fields and rippling brooks of the -fatherland which he had despaired of again beholding. - -What a novel joy was it to him to awake at midnight—at early dawn—to -realise with returning consciousness that safety, comfort, -honourable independence were to be the portion of his loved ones -henceforward and for ever! What a relief to turn again to his -pillow, and sink into untroubled slumber with a heart filled with -gratitude—with peace unutterable! - -One of his first expeditions in the shopping line was to the chief -book mart, an establishment where he previously had been wont to -linger but for short intervals, regarding with a melancholy interest -the rows of new, enticing works, into the pages of which he hardly -dared to look. Now he boldly produced a list of standard authors, -magazines, works of travel, science, autobiography, fiction, what -not; commanded that they should be packed in a suitable case and -forwarded to the railway station to his address. How he relished the -actual writing of a cheque for the amount! How the thought of being -able to enjoy them with an untroubled mind, in the peaceful evenings -at Windāhgil, caused his spirits to rise, his heart to expand! - -Hubert’s modest commission was not forgotten, nor the less-developed -literary needs of Maurice and Ned, while at a neighbouring -establishment he chose a collection of music, vocal and -instrumental, which would keep Laura and Linda moderately well -employed for a twelvemonth. A new piano the girls must have, but not -yet, not all at once, whispered Prudence. He must not show his hand -too suddenly. All in good time. And, as a young professional of the -period ran his fingers lightly over the notes of a lovely Erard -semi-grand, Mr. Stamford almost waltzed out of the shop, to the -seductive strains of “Auf Wiedersehn.” His last and crowning exploit -was to procure, after, perhaps, rather more personal exertion and -loss of dignity than were expended on the foregoing transactions, -the services of a well-recommended, capable female domestic, whose -scruples at going so far into the bush he combated by a liberal rate -of wages, and a promise to pay her return fare if she remained for -twelve months in his service. After all this Mr. Stamford paid a -farewell visit to Mr. Barrington Hope, with whom he arranged for -shearing supplies, and, finally, at the close of an exciting day, he -found himself in the mail-train in a state of high contentment, in -charity with all men, and honestly grateful to that Almighty Ruler -who had uplifted him from those dark depths, at the remembrance of -which he still shuddered. - -At a reasonably early hour on the following day the unpretending -architecture of Mooramah emerged from the forest hills which -encompass that rising township, and there was Hubert sure enough, -with the well-worn buggy and the good old horses, still high in -bone, though, like himself, much improved in spirits and demeanour. - -“Why, governor!” quoth that young man, after an affectionate -greeting and the gradual absorption into the recesses of the buggy -of the tolerably heavy miscellaneous luggage of his parent, -“you’re quite another man. Let me look at you. Fashionable and -distinguished-looking, I declare! Thought you were a gentleman -from England. Mother and the girls won’t know you. I suppose it’s -the rain, and Mr. Barrington—what’s his name, Hope or Faith, isn’t -it? He seems to have lots of the latter requisite, doesn’t he? We -ought to have made his acquaintance years ago. And this is the new -servant, I suppose. Very glad to see you, Mary Jane. Not Mary -Jane? Isabella; well, that sounds nicer—country looks grand, -doesn’t it? Old Mooramah’s quite another place. But I can’t take -my eyes off you, governor! You look ten years younger.” - -“I feel so, my boy, I assure you. Things have gone well, I needn’t -tell you. I found Mr. Hope a most satisfactory person to do business -with. And of course the rain has crowned everything.” - -“Satisfactory! I should think he was! Smartest man we’ve ever worked -with. I closed with old Saville, and bought six thousand Riverina -ewes bred at Broongal. Sent a wire to him, had his answer, and -nailed them before dark. I believe I could make a half-a-crown -profit a head on the whole lot. That’s something like business, if -you like.” - -“And you’re sure you’ll have grass enough for them and our own, too! -It doesn’t do to run risks, you know, Hubert!” - -“Grass!” retorted the young man scornfully. “Wait till you see the -old place. Now that the stock are all off the frontage, the prairie -grass and trefoil are coming up like a hayfield. Why, we sha’n’t be -able to _see_ the sheep in it at shearing time. Don’t the old horses -go differently? They’re picking up hand over hand, though of course -they’ve not had time to lay on flesh yet. The sheep are quicker -about it, and they look wonderful. You’d hardly know the dry flocks. -We’re not far from the river, now; it’s just crossable again. Wait -till you come to the outer gate. But it’s all alike. I feel almost -too happy. If I hadn’t had a good lot of hardish work just at first, -I think I should have gone off my head.” - -Harold Stamford put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and looked with -loving pride into his clear eyes and bold, frank brow. “God in His -mercy be thanked for our prosperity, my son!” he said. “May He keep -us in health of body and mind, and long preserve us to each other. I -feel, also, as if my cup was almost too full. May He aid us to enjoy -and use wisely the benefits He has conferred on us!” - -The young man turned and wrung his father’s hand silently. - -“Great Heaven!” thought Mr. Stamford to himself, as he noted the -clear bronzed cheek, the manly, frank impression, the muscular frame -of his first-born, the whole figure instinct with the splendid -health and graceful vigour of early manhood when developed to -maturity amid the wholesome influences of a country life. “What a -contrast does he present to Carlo Grandison! Surely I am wise in -shielding him from the disturbing forces, the crowding temptations, -with which wealth besets mankind. I dislike every aspect of -deception, but surely the postponing the dangerous knowledge, which -would relieve these children from all necessity for self-denial, is -a justifiable exercise of my discretion as the head of the -household. It will, it must, I feel convinced, be for their ultimate -advantage.” - -By the time the train of reflection induced by this consideration -had come to an end, the river was forded—tolerably high indeed; so -much so as to cause the new domestic some natural misgivings, but -the strong, temperate horses breasted the swirling current, and -landed them safely, under Hubert’s experienced guidance, upon the -pebbly beach of the farther shore. - -“So far, so good,” said the charioteer; “we couldn’t have done that -yesterday, and it’s not every pair of horses that would fancy all -that rushing and bubbling of the stream. Don’t you remember Mr. -Round nearly making a mess of it last year at night in this very -place, with the governess and all the children too? He had a pretty -bad quarter of an hour after he broke his pole. Now look at the -grass, that’s something like, isn’t it?” - -Mr. Stamford had seen such things before in his pastoral -experience. Not for the first time did he look upon the marvellous -transformation wrought in “dry country” by forty-eight hours’ -rain. But he could not avoid an exclamation of surprise when he -gazed around him. Was this the same place—the same country even, -which he had driven over so lately to catch the train, with the -self-same pair of horses too? - -Then the river trickled in a thin rivulet from one pond to another -in the wide, half-dry bed of the stream; then the dusty banks were -lined with dead sheep; the black-soiled alluvial flat was innocent -of grass in root or stalk or living herbage as the trampled dust of -a stockyard. Now a thick, green carpet of various verdure covered -all the great meadow as far as eye could see, and brought its bright -green border to the very verge of the sand and shingle of the river -shore. - -The half-flood which had resulted from the rainfall nearer the -source had swept away the carcases of the sheep and cattle and -deposited all saddening souvenirs of the drought amid the reed beds -of the lower Mooramah. All was spring-like and splendidly luxuriant, -though as yet but in the later autumn season. It was a new land, a -new climate, a region recovered from the waste. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -In ten minutes Mr. Stamford was deposited safely at the home which -he had quitted with such gloomy forebodings, such dreadful doubt and -uncertainty. Then he had asked himself, ‘Should he be enabled to -call it his own on returning? Was not Ruin’s knell already sounding -in his ears?’ - -A few short weeks had elapsed, and how different was the outlook! -When he beheld again the true and tender wife, the loving daughters, -the joyful children, his heart swelled nigh to bursting. An unspoken -prayer went up to heaven that he might ever remain worthy of the -unselfish love, the trusting faith which had been his since first he -had acquired a household of his own. How unworthy are the best of -men of such treasures—the purest, the richest, which are granted to -mortal man! - -When his affairs were at the worst, had he not always known where to -receive wise counsel, tender consolation, heartfelt sympathy? When a -ray of sunshine broke through the cloud-wrack which environed his -fortunes, had not a double brilliancy been added to it by those -loving hearts which took their colour so readily from his every -mood? Now all was joy, peace, magical transformation. The -storm-clouds had passed over, the menacing powers had vanished like -evil dreams. All was hope and sanguine trust in the future. He was a -monarch restored to his throne, a leader once more in front of his -faithful band, the head of a household which care and pain, in -certain forms, could never more approach. - -“So, father, you have deigned to return to us!” said Mrs. Stamford, -smiling the bright, loving welcome which had never failed her -husband. “We began to think that the ‘pleasures and palaces’ were -becoming too much for the ‘home, sweet home’ side of the question. -Didn’t we, Laura? But how wonderfully well you look, darling! We are -all ready to go on pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Barrington Hope, -as it seems he has wrought all these miracles.” - -“Yes, indeed, dear old dad,” cried Laura; “I would have put up his -image in my bedroom, and done a little private worship if I had had -the least idea of what he was like. But you never vouchsafed any -sketch of his personal appearance. You haven’t brought a photo, have -you? That would be something.” - -“Mr. Barrington Hope is a very fine man, pussy, as you will see -probably, one of these days—a good deal out of the common in every -respect.” - -“Young, is he?” queried Linda, who, having climbed on her father’s -knee, was patting his face and smoothing his hair. “He isn’t a -horrid old man, or married? Good gracious! we never thought of that, -did we? Oh! don’t say he is bald or grey, or unromantic. Laura and I -would never get over it. We have fixed on him for our hero, like Guy -in the _Heir of Redclyffe_. Surely some one said he was young!” - -“He is a good deal more like Philip, but there is nothing of the -prig about him, as I fear there was about that estimable young man,” -replied her father. “But what does his personal appearance matter, I -should like to know?” - -“But it _does_, it matters everything,” returned the enthusiastic -damsel. “Oh! he can’t be plain, surely not—after all he has done for -us. You mustn’t knock down the romance we have all been building -up.” - -“He is a very fine man, a few years older than Hubert, that is all. -I can’t give any inventory of his features, but he is tall and -distinguished looking. Isn’t that enough?” - -“Oh! splendid!” Here Linda clapped her hands in childish glee. “Fate -is too kind! Our preserver is all that we could wish. Nothing was -wanting but that. We are the happiest family in New South Wales—in -the world.” - -“Amen!” said Mr. Stamford. “Now you may unlock my portmanteau and -turn out a few presents I have brought my little girls. I shall be -ready for lunch when it comes in, I may venture to remark. The bush -air is still keen, I perceive.” - -In accordance with his well-studied programme, Mr. Stamford informed -his family, in general terms, that the arrangements he had made with -Mr. Barrington Hope were of a satisfactory description. That -gentleman had behaved most liberally and courteously in all -respects. The rain having so fortunately arrived on the top of all -this, had enabled him even to improve on his first terms, which were -nearly all that could be wished. They would therefore be warranted -in allowing themselves a few indulgences such as, had the season -continued dry, could not have been so much as thought of. - -After lunch, or rather dinner, the mid-day meal being of that -unfashionable description, Mr. Stamford and Hubert took a long drive -round the run. The appearance of the pastures, as also of the sheep -they encountered, was such as to draw forth exclamations of surprise -and delight from their possessor. - -“I never remember such a season since the year I bought the run,” he -remarked to his son. “You were quite a little fellow then, and Laura -hardly able to walk. It puts me quite in mind of old times—of the -happy days which I thought had fled for ever.” - -“Well, please goodness, governor, we’ll knock something out of the -old place this year that will make up for past losses. Sheep are -rising fast, and, as we can’t help having a fine lambing and a good -clip, you’ll see what we’ll rake in. We must put up a new washpen, -though, and enlarge the shed a bit. It won’t cost much, as I’ve put -a first-rate man on. He’s a Swede, been a ship’s carpenter, and the -quickest worker, when he understands what you want done, that I ever -saw. Not one of your cabinet-making humbugs who are all day -morticing a gate-head. I’ll draw in all the round stuff, and you’ll -see how soon we’ll knock it up.” - -“All right, my boy; any improvements in reason, only we mustn’t -spend all our money before we make it.” - -“Trust me for that, dad; you won’t find me spending a penny that can -be saved. We shall want no extra hands till shearing time. All the -paddocks are right and tight, so the sheep will shepherd themselves, -and do all the better, too. How jolly it is to have no bother about -water, isn’t it? And what a bit of luck we had that dam in the hill -paddock finished just before the rain came.” - -“Nothing like doing things at the right time, Hubert,” replied Mr. -Stamford, with an air of oracular wisdom. “You had half a mind to -leave that same dam till next year.” - -“Well, I must confess I hadn’t much heart to go shovelling and -picking that gravelly clay—hard as iron—with the weather so hot too, -and looking as if rain was never coming again. But you were right to -have it done, and now we have the benefit of it. Got a pretty fair -paddock of oats in too. It’s coming up splendidly.” - -“How did you manage that without a team?” - -“Hired a carrier’s for a week or two. He was short of cash, and -wanted to spell his bullocks; besides we ripped over the ploughing -in no time. Then I made a brush harrow and finished it with the -station horses. The main thing was to get in the seed the first -break of dry weather, and now we shall have a stack that will last -us two years at least.” - -“Well done, my boy; dry seasons will come again some day; we must -prepare for them, though everything looks so bright, or rather so -delightfully cloudy, just now. We shall have to invent a fresh set -of proverbs to suit Australia, shall we not, instead of using our -old-fashioned English ones?” - -“Yes, indeed. Can anything be more ludicrous than ‘Save up for a -rainy day?’ ‘Look ahead in case of a dry season,’ should be our -motto. This carrier was rather a smart chap, and understood similes. -‘Will that bullock go steady on the near side?’ I asked him the -other day. ‘Oh! he’s right,’ he said; ‘right as rain!’ That was -something like, wasn’t it? By the bye, dad, you didn’t forget those -books of mine, did you?” - -“No, my son! I bought a few more in addition. In fact, there’s a box -of books coming up by the train.” - -“A box of books! Hurrah! What times we shall have, when the evenings -get longer. But, I say, dad! isn’t that rather extravagant? You’ll -have the mater on to you if you begin to buy books by the box.” - -“They will have to last us some time, Hubert; you will find a good -deal of stiff reading among them. But if things go well generally, I -won’t stint you in books. We must charge them to the rain account -this time.” - -“I suppose we can save out of something else, but I really have -found it hard, the last year or two, to do without a new book now -and then. It’s so tantalising to see the names and read the reviews -when you’re not able to get them. But of course it couldn’t be -helped when things looked so bad.” - -“I have a notion, Hubert, that things will never look so bad again. -However, we must not be led away by temporary good fortune. -Perseverance is, after all, the great secret of success. Without -that mere cleverness is misleading, and even mischievous.” - -It was so far fortunate for Mr. Stamford, and it certainly made his -allotted task the easier, that he had always been somewhat reticent -as to business details. - -They were subjects concerning which he disliked conversation -extremely, so that although he confided in his wife and family as to -every change in their pecuniary position, he was wont to ignore -special explanation, much more the repetition of detail. - -When he announced therefore in general terms, from time to time, to -his family that things were going well, and that Mr. Barrington -Hope’s financial plan, coupled with that extraordinary advance in -the value of pastoral property occasioned by the rain, enabled him -to raise the standard of their house-keeping, they were satisfied, -and did not press for further information. - -Now commenced for Harold Stamford the ideal country life towards -which he had always aspired, but from which, latterly, he had been -further removed than ever. He enjoyed the advantages of the dweller -away from cities without the drawbacks which so often tend to render -that idyllic life monotonous and depressing. - -He had daily outdoor exercise in sufficient quantity to produce the -wholesome half-tired feeling so necessary to repose. - -At the same time, he was entirely freed from dominant and engrossing -dread, a state of mind which had for years past coloured so large a -portion of his waking thoughts. How hard it had been to fall asleep -with endless plans coursing through his tired brain, having for -their central idea the admitted fact of bankruptcy. How were they to -act? What was there to support the family while he sought for -employment? Employment, too! To what occupation could he betake -himself, now that middle age was reached, and much of the vigour and -activity of manhood departed? He had acquired “experience.” There -was a grim irony in the expression—of what use would it be to him -without capital? A managership of the station of another? True that -might be possibly attained after weeks and months of effort, or -years, as the case might be. - -He was familiar with the appearance of saddened men who haunted the -offices of stock-agents and merchants—the waiting-rooms of bankers, -the steps of clubs whence their more prosperous comrades walked -forth redolent of solvency. He had noticed such men growing -shabbier, more hopeless of aspect as the months rolled on. He had -heard them alluded to with contemptuous pity as “Poor old So-and-so! -Not up to much now, younger and smarter men to be had,” &c. He had -wondered whether such might be his fate, whether with his fall he -should drag down those beloved ones, who, whatever might be the -trials they had undergone together, had always enjoyed the fullest -personal freedom and independence. - -Such dreary reflections had been his companions in the past—daily, -hourly, as well under the light of the sun as in the night watches, -when silence lends to every reproach of conscience, every signal of -danger, a treble force and distinctness. - -In those terrible years of doubt and dread, of ruin and despair, -what tragedies had been enacted before his eyes, among his friends -and comrades, dwellers in the same region, dependent upon the same -seasons, betrayed by the same natural causes! But the other men had -not, like him, been shielded by the soft encircling influence of a -happy home. A logical mind, a sanguine spirit, combined with a -philosophical habit, had perhaps proved his safeguard. However that -might be, and Harold Stamford was the last man to boast to himself -or to others, his bark had battled with the angry waters while -others had become dismal wrecks, or had foundered suddenly and -irrevocably. - -Despair had written its tale in the chronicles of the district, in -reckless deep drinking, in suicide, in brain-ruin. - -All these things had he seen and known of. From these and other -evils, not less deadly, but of slower effect, had he been preserved. - -When he looked around and saw himself on a pinnacle of prosperity, -safe in the possession of all that he held most dear—the lands he -had so loved—the life of labour and of leisure so happily -apportioned, which he had so fully appreciated—the assured position -of respect and consideration, which it is not in mortal man wholly -to undervalue, he could with difficulty restrain his feelings. His -heart swelled with thankfulness to that Supreme Ruler who had so -mercifully ordered all matters concerning him and his, and again he -vowed so to shape his future life that he might be held in some -degree worthy of the blessings which had been showered upon him all -unworthy. - -This adjustment of ways and means he found nearly as difficult in -its way as the former trial. He often smiled to himself as he found -what an amount of conscientious reluctance to accept the unwonted -plenty he was compelled to combat. Did he effect a surprise of a few -rare plants for his flower-loving wife, she would calculate the -railway charges, and ask gravely if he was sure he could afford it. -Did he order a new riding-habit for Laura, a hat or a summer dress -for Linda, they were sure they could make the old ones do for -another season. It was interesting to watch the conflict between the -natural, girlish eagerness for the new and desirable and the inner -voice which had so long cried “refrain, refrain!” in that sorely -tried household. - -However, in spite of their virtuous resistance, by the exercise of a -little diplomacy, Harold Stamford had his way. The garden was dug -over, the trees were pruned, the parterre refilled with choice -varieties of the old loved flowers that the drought had slain. Even -a bush-house and a fernery were managed—put up indeed by the man who -had been temporarily retained as gardener, and whom Mrs. Stamford, -deeply as she appreciated the enjoyment of once more beholding trim -alleys and well-tended beds, could not help regarding in the light -of a superfluity. - -Then there was the American buggy, a wonderful vehicle, in which so -many journeys had been made over roads that were rough or smooth, -ways that were short or long, as need was, wherein all the family -had been closely packed in the days of their childhood, still strong -and serviceable, but woefully deficient in paint and varnish. This -family friend, and a friend in need had it been, found its way to -the coachmaker’s, whence it issued resplendent, nearly as -distinguished in appearance, Mrs. Stamford conceded, as when, in the -earlier days of their wedded life, they had been secretly proud of -their handsome carriage and well-matched, fast-trotting pair. - -“It quite brought back,” she averred, “the old days of love in a -cottage, with all their precious memories.” - -Gradually, and unobtrusively, was the master of the establishment -enabled to compass these and other desirable repairs and refittings. -All things that had become shabby were dismissed or replaced after -the same piecemeal manner. As time wore on, the process ceased to -alarm his wife or children, more especially as, aided by the -bounteous season and Hubert’s ceaseless energy, the general -prosperity of the station was marked and gratifying. - -The increase of the stock was unexampled. The anxious, toilsome -period of shearing was passed successfully. - -The new washpen answered beyond the most sanguine anticipation. The -clip was heavy, and “got up” so as almost to resemble raw silk—a -pardonable exaggeration—so free from dust and all contamination had -sleepless vigilance and care on Hubert’s part “turned it out.” The -crop was as “high as the fence,” Maurice averred, and the haystack, -consequently, a colossal and imposing pile of fragrant fodder. The -spring was sufficiently showery to lay the dust and keep the matted -grass green at the roots. Water was abundant, both “out back” as -well as on the frontage. “All went merry as a marriage bell,” and -when the last high-piled waggon-load had moved slowly away, on which -was imprinted “Windāhgil, First Combing, 348,” with other suggestive -and satisfactory legends, Mr. Stamford put his arm round his wife’s -waist, and remarked, “My dear, I think a trip to Sydney would do you -and the girls so much good. As I am compelled to see Mr. Hope on -business, we may as well all go together.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -The thrill of pleasure with which this proposal was received showed -itself in the flushing cheeks and brightened eyes of Laura and her -sister—while upon Mrs. Stamford’s features an almost pathetic -expression appeared, as of a revelation of joy sudden and -unhoped-for. “You are so kind, Harold; but, oh! are you prudent? -Think of the expense—new dresses, new everything, indeed! Why it -seems an age since I saw Sydney!” - -“Think of the clip, Mrs. Stamford,” retorted her husband. “Think of -the lambs, think of the fat sheep ready for market. Your journey to -town will be the merest trifle of expenditure compared to what we -can lawfully and reasonably afford. I speak in sober earnest. -Besides, the Intercolonial Exhibition is open. The girls may never -have such another chance. Hubert must stay at home for fear of bush -fires. He shall have his holiday when we return. So, girls, the -great Windāhgil migration is settled.” - -The departure for the metropolis of a family that has long dwelt in -the “bush,” or veritable far country division of Australian life, is -an event of no ordinary magnitude. - -Not that the conditions of their rural life are so widely different -from those in England. There is the country town within reasonable -distance, to which visits are by no means infrequent. There reside -the clergymen, lawyers, doctors, bankers, teachers, and -tradespeople, the chief component parts of rural society—as in -England. There are also various retired non-combatants, decayed -gentry and others, the poor and proud section—as in Europe. The -squirearchy is represented by large-acred, wealthy personages, who -have either acquired or inherited estates, exceeding ten- or -twenty-fold in value those of average proprietors—as in Europe. -These great people are frequently absent, but contribute fairly by a -higher scale of expenditure, often comprising picture-galleries, and -valuable collections of _objets d’art_, generally to the mental -advancement of the neighbourhood. It is not to be supposed, either, -that they are for the most part uneducated or unrefined. - -It follows, therefore, that even when deprived of access to -metropolitan luxuries, the families of rural colonists are not -wholly without intellectual privileges, invariable as has been the -custom of the British novelist to depict them as living a rude, -unpolished, and wholly unlettered life. - -In ordinary seasons it is the custom for squatters of a certain rank -to visit the sea coast with their families once a year, if not -oftener. The pleasures of city life are then moderately partaken of, -fresh ideas are acquired, old tastes are indulged; friendships are -contracted, repaired, or revived. Mental and physical benefits -unspecified are acquired, and after a few weeks’ absence the country -family returns, much contented with their experiences, but perfectly -resigned to await the changing year’s recurrence ere such another -momentous journeying takes place. - -But when, as at Windāhgil, a succession of untoward seasons brings -the family ark well-nigh to wreck and ruin, it is obvious that no -such holiday-making can be thought of. “Certainly not this year, -perhaps not next year,” says Paterfamilias, sorrowfully, but firmly. -Then doubtless all the reserves are called up; steady, instructive -reading must take the place of travel, old acquaintances whose -minds, so to speak, have been read through and through, and -dog’s-eared besides, must perforce be endured through lack of -charmingly-new fresh romantically-respectful strangers. The old -dresses are turned and returned, freshly trimmed, and their terms of -service lengthened by every economical device, pathetic in the -patience and true homely virtue displayed. But though all these -substitutes and makeshifts are availed of, the time _does_ pass a -little wearily and monotonously. - -But now the “route was given,” the delightful signal had sounded. -The sudden change of ideas necessitated by the announcement of Mr. -Stamford was at first bewildering to his wife, and nearly in an -equal degree to his daughters. - -Calculation and arrangement were required; much forecasting as to -where they were to go first, when they could possibly be ready to -start, maternal doubts as to what poor Hubert would do in their -absence, as the maids would necessarily return to their friends. -These weighty considerations absorbed so much time and thought that -it was generally agreed to be a species of miracle by which the -family found themselves safely packed in the waggonette one -memorable Monday on the way to Mooarmah railway station, the luggage -having been sent on in the early morning. - -“Poor dear Hubert, it seems so selfish to leave him at home by -himself,” said Laura; “I think one of us ought to have stayed to -keep house for him.” - -“It’s not too late now,” said Linda. “Which is it to be? Shall we -toss up? I’m quite ready, if I lose.” - -“No! I will stay,” said Laura. “I’m the eldest.” - -“I think I will stop after all,” said Mrs. Stamford. “You two girls -are due for a little enjoyment, and it does not matter so much about -me.” - -“You will do nothing of the sort,” said Mr. Stamford, with rather -more emphasis than usual. “Your mother wants a change as much as any -of us. It’s very good of you girls to be ready to remain, and it -pleases me, my dears. But Hubert is man enough to look after -himself, as well as the station, for a month or two. When our -holiday is up, his will begin.” - -“As if I would have let anybody stop,” said Hubert, “let alone the -dear mater; bless her old heart! And how am I going to do when I go -to the ‘Never-Never’ country, do you suppose—and I must have a turn -there some day—if you all coddle me up so?” - -“I hope you never will go to that dreadful new country,” said Mrs. -Stamford, half-tearfully. “Didn’t you read that shocking account of -the poor fellow who died of thirst by the telegraph line the other -day, besides that nice young Belford who was killed by the blacks?” - -“Accidents will happen,” said Hubert. “The British Empire wouldn’t -be what it is, if every mother kept her boy at home so that she -could see him, while she knitted his warm socks. Windāhgil is paying -fairly now, but there’s no fortune to be made here, is there, -governor?” - -“I didn’t know that you were growing discontented with your lot, my -boy,” said the father, looking admiringly at his first-born; “but -there’s time enough to think about all that. I’ll see when we are -all settled at home again. There goes the bell; we must take our -places. God bless you, my boy!” - -The following morning found the Stamford family comfortably -deposited in one of the hotels which in Sydney combine proximity to -the sea with perfect accessibility from all city centres. Bath and -breakfast had removed all traces of fatigue or travelling -discomfort. Laura, with her sister, was standing at a window which -overlooked the sea, wild with delight at the unaccustomed glory of -the ocean. - -“Oh! what a lovely, lovely sight!” cried Linda. “Look at that -glorious bay, with those white-winged boats flying across it like -sea-gulls—it’s an old simile, I know, but it always sounds nice. -Look at the rocks and promontories, beaches and islands! And there, -a great ocean liner is moving majestically along, as if she was -going to steam up to the verandah. Wouldn’t it be nice if she did! I -wonder what the people would be like? Oh! I shall expire with joy -and wonder if I stay here much longer.” - -“Then put on your bonnet, and come to George Street with me,” said -Mrs. Stamford. “I want to do a little quiet shopping before lunch. -Laura can stay with her father. He is going to take her to see the -Grandisons.” - -“Oh! how nice; I haven’t seen a real shop,” said Linda, “like -Palmer’s and David Bowen’s, you know, since I was a little girl. -That will tone the excitement down a little, or give it a new -direction. Oh, I _do_ feel so happy! Do you think it will last, -mother? It can’t be any better in England—or Fairyland. The world -does not offer anything superior to my present feeling of -perfect—yes, perfect happiness. Don’t let us go to the opera for a -week yet, till I have had time to subside. I feel like a glass of -champagne; I should effervesce over. La! la, la, la! la, la, la! la, -la!” And here the excited girl waltzed into her bed-room to the tune -of “The Venetia.” - -When Mrs. Stamford and her youngest daughter departed on their -shopping expedition, the latter declaring that she felt the greatest -difficulty in restraining herself from bursting into song from pure -gladsomeness of heart, her father betook himself in a cab with Laura -to Mr. Grandison’s house, where he proposed to leave her with her -cousin Josie till his return in the evening. Laura was little less -inwardly delighted with her general surroundings than Linda, but not -being so highly demonstrative, she forbore to testify her pleasure -by bodily movement. Yet was her heart filled with innocent joy and -honest admiration as she surveyed the unwonted scene. - -As their carriage wound slowly up one of the steep ascents by which, -on leaving the city proper, the more fashionable suburbs are -reached, her dark eyes sparkled and her fair cheek glowed while she -pointed out the fresh combination of sea and shore. - -“Oh, father!” she said, “when you look on this, does it not seem -strange that any one should choose to live away from the sea? I -should spend half my time on the beach! What changeful beauty! What -new wonders arise, even from this tiny outlook! Nothing can be more -delicious than this harbour, with gardens and lawns down to the very -ends of the promontories. The dear little bays too, like fairy -pictures, with smooth shores, and a big rock with an archway here -and there. And oh! the Heads! Grand and majestic, are they -not?—frowning above the restless deep like eternal ocean portals. I -can see billows, I declare. How vast and awe-striking! I am really -thankful we haven’t been to Sydney all these bad seasons. A day like -this is worth a year of common life.” - -“That’s an extravagant price to pay for a day’s pleasure, pussy,” -said her father fondly, as he watched the fire of enthusiasm glow in -the girl’s bright eyes, which seemed to dilate and sparkle at -intervals as if the glory of the grand vision had been transfused -into her very blood. “You will count your years, as other people -count their money, much more carefully as you grow older. But I -trust, pet, that you will have long years of happiness before you, -and that this is not the only one of earth’s precious things that -you will enjoy.” - -“What a divine pleasure travel must be!” said she, gazing -steadfastly before her, as if looking out on a new world of wonder -and enchantment. “Think of seeing, with one’s own very eyes, the -cities and battle-fields of the earth, the shrines of the dead, -immortal past! Oh! to see Rome and Venice, Athens and the Greek -Isles, even dear old England with Saxon ruins and Norman castles. I -wonder it does not kill people.” - -“Happiness is rarely fatal, though the sensation of sudden joy is -often overpowering,” remarked Mr. Stamford with a quiet smile, as he -recalled his own recent experience. “But I hope you and Linda will -qualify yourselves by study for an intelligent appreciation of the -marvels of the Old World. That is,”—he added—“in the event of your -being fortunate enough to get there. ‘We colonists have a great deal -to learn in art and literature,’ as Lord Kimberley was pleased to -say the other day. We must show that we are not altogether without a -glimmering of taste and attainment.” - -“That is the fixed British idea about all colonists,” said Laura -with indignation. “I suppose Lord Kimberley thinks we do nothing but -chop down trees and gallop about all day long. Well, one mustn’t -boast, but we have been getting on with our French and Italian -lately, and Linda’s sketches show something more than amateur work, -I think.” - -When they drew up at Chatsworth, and the cabman was opening the gold -and bronze-coloured iron gates, Laura’s ecstasies broke out anew. - -“Oh! father, do look; did you ever see such a beautiful place? Look -at the gravel, look at the flowers, look at the sea which makes a -background for the whole picture! Look at that purple mass of -_Bougainvillea_ covering all one side of the house. Why the lawn is -like a big billiard table! It is a morsel of Fairyland. How happy -they must be in such a lovely home!” - -“Humph!” said Mr. Stamford, “perhaps the less we say about that the -better. The people that live in the best houses do not always lead -the pleasantest lives. But it certainly is a show place.” - -It was truly difficult to overpraise the Chatsworth house and -grounds. Nature had been bountiful, and every beauty was heightened, -every trifling defect corrected by art. - -The gravel of which the drive was composed was in itself a study—its -dark red colour, its perfect condition, daily raked and rolled as it -was to the smoothness of a board. Rare shrubs and massed flowers -bordered the accurately defined tiled edges. The bright blue -blossoms of the _Jacaranda_, the scarlet stars of the _Hibiscus_, -the broad purple and green leaves of the _Coleus_, the waving, -restless spires of the pine, the rustling, delicate banana -fronds—all these and a host of tropical plants which the mild Sydney -winter suffers to flourish in the open air, were here. Fountains, -tennis-grounds, and shaded walks, all were to be found in the tiny -demesne, every yard of which had been measured and calculated so as -to produce the largest amount of effect and convenience. - -The hot-house and green-houses were under the care of an autocratic -Scotch gardener, who treated Mr. Grandison’s suggestions with silent -contempt, and obeyed or defied Mrs. Grandison’s orders as to fruit -or flowers entirely as it seemed good to him. - -Mrs. Grandison was at home. The footman admitted so much, as he -asked the country cousins into a morning room—a most grand apartment -to their eyes; nevertheless, Mrs. Grandison’s countenance—she was -there alone—wore a clouded and dissatisfied expression. She relaxed -considerably, though with an effort, as her visitors were announced, -and came forward to greet them warmly enough. - -“So glad to see you, Mr. Stamford. It was nice of you to bring -Laura. Why you look as fresh as a rose, child! How do you manage to -have such a complexion in a hot district? I tell Josie she is -getting as pale as a ghost, and yellow too. The fact is, she goes -out too much, and this Sydney climate is enough to age any one. She -hasn’t been down to breakfast yet—naughty girl—but she was at the -Moreton’s ball last night. Mrs. Watchtower took her, and she didn’t -get home till past four o’clock.” - -“I suppose Grandison’s in town,” said Mr. Stamford. - -“Oh! yes; he goes in regularly every day, though I often tell him I -don’t know what he has to do. He lunches at his club; you’ll find -him there at one o’clock. He says it’s dull enough there, but -nothing to what it would be if he stopped at home. Not very -complimentary, is it? But men are all alike; they like to get away -from their wives and families.” - -“I’ve brought mine with me, you see, this time; so I don’t fall -under your disapproval.” - -“Oh! I do think you’re pretty good, as men go, though there’s no -knowing. But, Laura, you’d better go up to Josie’s room, if you want -to have a talk, or else you may have to wait. Now, Mr. Stamford, -when will you all come and dine? To-day you’ll be tired—to-morrow or -next day, which shall it be—and we’ll have somebody to make it a -little lively for the girls?” - -“Thank you. I think the day after to-morrow, if it is equally -convenient,” said Stamford. “And now I must go, as I have some -business to attend to. I will leave Laura, with your permission, and -call for her as I return in the afternoon.” - -“Oh! yes, by all means. Josie will enjoy a long talk with her. What -a fine girl she has grown, and so handsome too! She wants dressing a -bit. But how does she manage to get all that fine bloom in the bush? -I thought Windāhgil was a hot place, yet Laura looks as fresh as a -milkmaid.” - -“She is a good girl, and has had very little dissipation. We lead -very simple lives in the bush, you know. My daughters are very -unsophisticated as yet.” - -“That’s all very well, but being simple doesn’t give beauty or -style, and Laura seems to have a very fair share of both. You let -her come to the Assembly Ball next week that all the girls are -talking about, and see what a sensation she’ll make.” - -“If there’s a ball while we are down I should not think of denying -the girls a legitimate pleasure, though Linda is rather young yet; -but I think you flatter Laura.” - -“Not a bit. It’s her fresh, natural manner that will strike -everybody, and the way all her face seems to speak without words. -Her eyes are perfectly wonderful. Why didn’t you tell us she was -such a beauty, and had a charming manner?” - -“To my mind, it’s rather a disadvantage than otherwise—the -beauty—not the manner, of course,” said Mr. Stamford -philosophically. “I beg you won’t inform her of the fact, though I -really don’t think she’d believe you, my dear Mrs. Grandison. But I -must go now, so good-bye for the present.” - -“It is nearly lunch time now,” said Mrs. Grandison; “you may as well -stay, and go to town afterwards.” But Mr. Stamford pleaded “urgent -private affairs,” and notwithstanding the temptress—who began to -look forward to a lonely meal, with the two girls chatting in the -bed-room, and was fain to fall back on even a middle-aged -squatter—he sought his cab. - -Mr. Stamford looked at his watch; it wanted more than half an hour -to one o’clock. He bade his cabman drive briskly, and was landed at -the palatial offices of the Austral Agency Company in reasonable -time. He dashed into Barrington Hope’s sanctuary with something like -boyish enthusiasm. That gentleman raised his head from a pile of -accounts, and to Mr. Stamford’s eyes looked even more careworn and -fagged than at his last visit. - -“How are you, Mr. Stamford?” he said, with a sudden brightening up -of the weary features. “But I needn’t ask. You’re a different man -from what you were when our acquaintance commenced. And no wonder. -Talk about physicians! Rain is the king of them all. Tell me a -healer, a preserver like him! What a grand season you have had, to -be sure—the precursor of many others, I hope. The Windāhgil wool -brought a high price, didn’t it? Splendidly got up; every one said -so. Bought for the French market. It made a character for the brand, -if one was wanted. But all this is gossip. You wanted to say -something on business.” - -“Not now,” said Mr. Stamford; “‘sufficient for the day,’ and so on. -We only reached Sydney this morning. But I have a piece of very -particular business. I want you to come down and dine with us, _en -famille_, at Batty’s this evening. Brought my wife and daughters -down. They’re anxious to make your acquaintance.” - -“Delighted, I’m sure. I hope the ladies will find Sydney amusing. -There’s nothing going on particularly, except a Bachelors’ Ball next -week, of which I happen to be a steward. Perhaps you will allow me -to send you invitations.” - -“I can answer for their being accepted,” said Mr. Stamford, “as far -as my daughters are concerned. Their parents are rather old to do -more than look on. But I will promise to do that energetically. And -now I will not bother you longer. You have a stiff bit of work -before you there. Don’t knock yourself up, that’s all. There’s such -a thing as overdoing these confounded figure columns, and when a -cogwheel goes, Nature’s workshop provides no duplicate.” - -“I understand you,” said Hope, pressing his hand with a quick -gesture to his forehead. “I _have_ felt rather run down lately. The -business has been increasing at a tremendous rate, too. I must take -a holiday before long, though I don’t quite see my way.” - -“Come and see us at Windāhgil,” said Mr. Stamford warmly. “The fresh -bush air and a gallop on horseback will set you right again. That’s -all you want. We must talk about it. In the meantime, adieu.” And -Mr. Stamford vanished. - -He reached his hotel in time for lunch, where he found Mrs. Stamford -and Linda, who had returned from their expedition into the heart of -the kingdom of finery. - -Linda declared that she had never comprehended the subject -before—never was aware that she knew nothing, so to speak, of this -all-engrossing subject, so important in all its details to -womanhood. “I can quite imagine people with lots of money going to -any lengths in the way of dress,” she said. “The variety is so -charming, and the milliners are so persuasive. How that dear little -girl at Farmer’s tried to get me to take the silk dress. Didn’t she, -mother?” - -“I was afraid she would succeed at one time, my dear; you appeared -to be hesitating.” - -“I should have liked it, of course. Such a lovely lilac. It suited -my complexion perfectly, she said; but I knew my allowance wouldn’t -stand it, and you have been so good, my dear old dad. I don’t want -you and mother to think I can’t resist temptation.” - -“Act on steady principles through life, my dear, and you will never -regret it. I don’t say the silk dresses and other suitable vanities -may not come in time, but not just yet, not yet for my little girls. -And now for the reward of merit. Mr. Hope is coming to dine with us -this evening, so you and Laura must entertain him pleasantly.” - -“Oh, what a delightful surprise! Sydney is full of them. Of course I -knew we should see him some time or other, but perhaps not for ever -so long, unless he called. I wonder if he will be like my impression -of him? Does Laura know of it?” - -“Not until I go for her, unless you would like to send her a -telegram; but I think she will have full time for preparation.” - -“What a pity it will be if they keep her at Chatsworth! They are -sure to want to. But don’t you give in, if they do ever so much.” - -“There will be the less necessity for that, my dear Linda, as we are -all to dine there on the day after to-morrow. They can feast their -eyes on Laura and all the family then.” - -“That is surprise number two. A real dinner-party! It will be my -first invitation to one. I hope I shall behave well, and not upset -my wine-glass or do anything dreadful. I shall be looking at the -butler or the hostess, or the attractive guests, I know, and break -something. I think I shall begin to practise calm dignity to-night, -mother. Don’t you think it a good opportunity?” - -“If my little girl remembers what she has always been taught,” said -the fond mother, looking at the girlish, eager face, bright with the -hues of early womanhood, “and will not think about herself, or the -effect she is likely to produce, she will do very well. I don’t -think we shall have cause to be ashamed of her. And now for a little -luncheon. My appetite is really quite surprising.” - -After lunch Mr. Stamford betook himself to the Archaic Club, where -it was tolerably certain his friend would be found, for an hour or -two. By the way, how very few married men return to their homes, -even those of abounding leisure, before it is time to dress for -dinner. They will sit yawning at a club, when they have nothing to -do, where they care for nobody, and don’t go in for reading or even -play billiards, until the late afternoon, when there is just time to -catch a cab or train to reach home in the gathering twilight. - -How, then, can these things be? The solution of this and other -social problems must be left to the coming philosophical student, -who will analyse and depict the causes of all seeming anomalies. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -Mr. Stamford, on inquiring of the club porter, found that his friend -was at home, so to speak, and had not been more than ten minutes in -an apartment very unostentatiously furnished, which was devoted to -the reception of strangers, when Mr. Grandison entered. - -“Are you club magnates afraid that strangers may run away with a -chair or two, or a spare sofa, that you are so confoundedly -parsimonious in the furniture line?” inquired Stamford. “I have more -than once considered the question when I have been kicking my heels -here and at the Junior Pioneers, and that is the conclusion I have -arrived at. It must be so. Surely there must be a legend of a -dried-out squatter being driven to spout an arm-chair or a -table-cover. Isn’t that it?” - -“You’re in famous spirits, Harold, old man,” said the capitalist, -who was by no means over-joyous of demeanour. “It’s the rain that’s -done it, I suppose. ’Pon my soul, you’re right about this room. It -isn’t fit for a gentleman to be put into. I must bring it before the -committee. How are Mrs. Stamford and the girls? Brought them down?” - -“Yes, we’re at Batty’s. I took Laura to Chatsworth this morning; I’m -going out now to call for her. I saw Mrs. Grandison; she was kind -enough to ask us to dine on Thursday.” - -“That’s all right. Now I’ll tell you what I’ll do. The mail-phaeton -will be here in five minutes, and we’ll go out home together. I want -to have a talk with you. Things are not going altogether right in -the family, and I want another good yarn with you. You know what I -told you about Carlo? Well, he’s done worse since then, pretty near -broke my heart and his mother’s.” And here Mr. Grandison looked so -worried and hopeless that his friend felt himself to be grossly -selfish in that he found himself in such good spirits. - -“I’m very sorry to hear it, Bob, my dear fellow,” said he with real -concern. “But worse! how can he have done worse?” - -“He _has_ done worse, much worse. He has married, and married badly -too, by Jingo!” and here Mr. Grandison could no longer contain -himself. - -“I hate to talk about it,” said he, after a pause, “but it’s one of -those things that must be faced. And of course you and I are too old -friends to mind telling each other the whole truth. But the fact is, -the confounded young fool has gone and married a barmaid.” - -“You don’t say so!” said Mr. Stamford, starting back as from a blow, -but gradually bringing his mind to bear on the question, and -wondering how the consequences and complication of such an -inconceivable step in the case of an eldest son would end. “Carlo a -married man! And to a barmaid too! Surely there must be some -mistake. How in the world did it happen—how could it happen?” he -asked. - -“I suppose it could happen, because it did,” answered his friend -gloomily. “Unfortunately, it’s only too true. The fact is, that -while he was living in Tasmania—you know he had just gone there when -you were in Sydney last, after that card-scrape he got into here—he -was living an idle, aimless life. He did that here, for that matter, -so that there was no need for him to complain about it so bitterly. -I sent him a very fair allowance, and thought he was well out of -harm’s way. He used to write his mother long letters; I thought he -was on the way to be reformed.” Here Mr. Grandison lit a cigar. - -“What happened then?” - -“After that he wanted me to give him an allowance, and let him go to -Europe. I wish to heaven I had done so now!” - -“But why didn’t you?” - -“Because I couldn’t trust him. I knew if I let him go on that -understanding, he would overdraw his allowance—gamble on a large -scale at some of those foreign places—Baden Baden or Homburg. Blow -his brains out then, perhaps.” - -“I should have let him go, but I can understand your very natural -reluctance.” - -“Yes, he’s a bad boy, Stamford, there’s no denying. But he’s my -eldest son, my first child. My God! how I remember all the love and -fondness poor Mary and I lavished on him—how we fretted ourselves to -death when he had any childish complaint—the agony we were in when -he was away from home one night, we thought he was lost. And to -think he should have repaid us for all our care and love, perhaps -foolish indulgence, like this—like this! It’s very bitter; it’s hard -to bear. Dashed if I didn’t envy our gardener last week, whose son -was apprenticed to a blacksmith! I did, by Jove! What’s all the -money to us now?” - -“It is hard, my dear fellow,” said Stamford, touched by his friend’s -evident distress and hopeless air. “I pity you from my heart. But -are things so very bad? Can nothing be done?” - -“Well they might be worse. The girl’s character is good, I believe; -she is a dairyman’s daughter, with no education, and that’s all the -harm I know of her. She has a pretty face. Carlo met her at a -roadside inn near where he was lodging. He writes over and says he -was so confoundedly dull and miserable that he’d made up his mind -he’d either marry the girl if she’d have him, or shoot himself. She -did have him. So this is the end of all our slaving and striving for -his benefit and to give him a chance of keeping in the first flight -of the best society the colony could show. He goes and throws -himself away like this. And we have a daughter-in-law that doesn’t -know an aitch when she sees it, I suppose, and if ever she comes -here, which isn’t likely, perhaps, can’t tell a finger-glass from a -flower-pot.” At this dreadful picture evoked from his inner -consciousness, Mr. Grandison groaned again, and made as if he could -tear his hair, were such gestures of grief permissible in a member -of a fashionable club. - -Mr. Stamford did not really know for the moment what to say to -console the unhappy father, who, unless his son had died, could -hardly have been in a position of more hopeless sorrow. No doubt -some fathers would have been sufficiently Spartan to have preferred -an honourable death to an undesirable marriage. But, except in -business matters, he was not a hard man. Stamford knew that such -Lacedæmonian severity was alien to his nature. He set himself to -suggest consolatory ideas as the London built phaeton drew up to the -club steps. - -“It’s a bad enough affair, doubtless. I won’t say I don’t think so. -I should have felt all you do, in my own case.” Here Mr. Stamford -inwardly scoffed at the possibility of Hubert’s acting in this -manner under any possible circumstances. “But it’s no use taking too -sombre a view. The girl is good looking, and honest, which is much. -She will, doubtless improve with opportunities. If she has any -strength of character, she will probably keep Carlo straight for the -future. We have known such things happen before. It’s a desperate -remedy, but occasionally efficacious.” - -“Desperate! You may say so,” replied Mr. Grandison, testily. “Take -the other side of the question. Suppose she turns out a flirt or a -scold—or both; runs away from him, or he from her, leaving three or -four half-bred brats to worry me in my old age. What then?” - -With the expression of these gloomy apprehensions as to the probable -matrimonial fate of the heir apparent of Chatsworth and many a fair -acre of plain and woodland, the phaeton entered the massive and -ornate portals of Chatsworth House, and crunched the immaculate -gravel, while the lord of all sat with folded arms and darkened -brow, indifferent as a captive to outer grandeur. - -“Here we are! Come in Harold, old man,” he said, as the wheels -almost grazed the portico. “By George, I could find it in my heart -to sit down and cry on our own doorstep, but we have to live and see -it out, I suppose. Didn’t you say you were going to take Laura back? -Better stay and dine. Keep me company, there’s a good fellow. I’m -low enough, God knows!” - -Harold Stamford would have agreed to this proposal at once, so -touched was he by his old friend’s woebegone appearance and -desponding words, but he recalled his own engagement. This he -pleaded successfully, adding, “You’ll have the whole family here on -Thursday.” - -“All right, if you can’t, you can’t. Here, Bateman,” he called out -to the coachman who was driving away from the front, “don’t go away -yet. I want you to take Mr. Stamford and his daughter home. You may -as well go back to Batty’s in comfort, and this pair doesn’t get -half work enough. They’ll be making a bolt of it one of these days -like Carlo, if I don’t look out. Ha, ha!” - -Mr. Grandison’s laugh was not pleasant to hear. His friend followed -him into the drawing-room in silence. Here sat the three ladies, who -were apparently not in bad spirits. Mrs. Grandison had chased from -her brow the marks of care which were so apparent at an earlier -period of the day, and was joining, apparently without effort, in -the vivacious discourse of the two young ladies. Miss Josie had -contrived to arise and apparel herself after the fashion of the -period, and though showing some of the pallor produced by a round of -gaiety in a semi-tropical climate, was on the whole sufficiently -attractive. - -“So this is Laura,” said Mr. Grandison, as he advanced and warmly -greeted the young lady in question. “Why, what a woman you’ve grown, -and a handsome one, too, or I mistake much. Why, Josie, we must send -you up to the banks of the Warra Warra, or wherever Windāhgil is. -Near Mooramah, isn’t it, Stamford? ’Pon my soul! I forget where my -own stations are sometimes.” - -“You won’t catch me going into the bush, father!” said Miss Josie, -in a rather sharp tone of voice. “That is, not farther than North -Shore. It certainly agrees with some people, and Laura here might -play the part of Patience without dressing. But Sydney is my home, -and I don’t mean to stir from it.” - -“It’s the worst day’s work I ever did in my life when I brought you -all to live here,” said her father. “I wish to heaven we had -continued to live at the old bush cottage you were born in, my -lady.” - -“I don’t see what difference that would have made, Robert,” said his -wife. - -“But I do,” said the master of the house. “You and your children -would never have learned the habits of fashionable folly and -reckless extravagance in which your lives are spent. We might have -been satisfied with a more natural existence—aye, and, a happier -life.” - -“If you only come home early to say disagreeable things, my dear -Robert, I must say that I like the old way best,” said Mrs. -Grandison with dignity. - -“I would say a great many more things of the same sort,” replied he, -“if I could persuade myself that they would do any good. But it is -too late now. We have sown the wind and must reap the whirlwind.” - -This form of discussion tended to render things generally rather -uncomfortable. It would have been difficult to direct the -conversation into a more conventional channel had not Mr. Grandison -abruptly left the room. - -“I can’t think what has put Robert out so this afternoon,” said his -wife, “of course he keeps worrying himself about that dreadful -affair of Carlo’s—wicked boy! He told you about that, Mr. Stamford, -I know. I’ve cried my eyes out, and I shall never be the same woman -again, I know. But what is the use of making your life one long -misery for the sake of a selfish, disobedient son? He never -considered us, I firmly believe, since he was a boy at school. Then -why, as Josie says, should we consider him? I am not going to grieve -over him any longer. He has chosen his path.” - -“He’s a selfish, stupid, unprincipled fellow,” said Josie, with an -air of cold decision. “He has done everything he could to disgrace -himself and us. I am not going to spoil my life on his account, and -I shall never mention his name, or that of the servant-girl he has -chosen to bring into the family.” - -“I think you are too hard; I do indeed, Josie!” said her mother, -“though he deserves very little at our hands. You are not his -mother, my dear, and you don’t know how it feels. But I can’t think -we should deny ourselves anything in society for his sake. Just at -the beginning of the gay season in Sydney, too!” - -Laura, who had looked extremely grave throughout the discussion, now -felt inclined to smile at Mrs. Grandison’s distressful _finale_. She -rose, and looked at her father to explain the absolute necessity for -their departure. - -“We shall see you all here at dinner on Thursday, then, mind that!” -said their hostess. “And, Laura, put on your best bib and tucker. -I’ll have some of our show young men to meet you.” - -“I’m sure I don’t know where you’ll find them, mother,” said Josie, -disdainfully. “Since the Lorenzo went to Fiji, there hasn’t been a -man in Sydney fit to look at.” - -The coachman’s temper was not improved by the length of time during -which he had been kept waiting. One of the highly-conditioned, -irregularly-exercised horses had indeed revenged himself by pawing -and scraping, the result of which was a hole in the gravel, which -caused the head gardener to use a much stronger expression when he -saw it than, still mindful of kirk and minister, he was in the habit -of employing. - -As they went spinning down the incline to Double Bay, in the easy, -well-hung carriage, her father said, “Wouldn’t you like to have a -drag like this, my dear, to put your husband down at his office in -if you were married and lived in Sydney?” - -“That means if I were somebody else altogether,” replied Laura, with -a slight blush. “I can’t say how I might act then. But if you ask me -whether I would change places with the poor people in the splendid -house we have just left, I say, with the country mouse, ‘Give me my -hollow tree and liberty,’ or rather our love and affection for each -other. I don’t think anything could happen to alter that; do you, -father?” - -Mr. Stamford answered by a quick, decided movement rather than by -words. It is to be hoped no one in that fashionable suburb observed -the action; but even if so, the faultlessly aristocratic appearance -of the equipage in which the offenders sat would have sufficed to -condone the offence. - -A comparatively short time saw them at Hyde Park—too short, indeed, -it seemed to Laura, eager to enjoy the varied beauty of the scene. -The splendours of the dying day, the roll of the surge upon the -outer shore, the rising ocean breeze, all these seemed to the keen -and cultured sense of the enthusiastic maiden but portions of a -wondrous panorama, of which each hour furnished a fresh presentment. - -Linda, from the balcony, beheld them arrive in state, and waved her -handkerchief in token of welcome and approval. “Oh! Laura, I was -beginning to think you were never coming. What kept you so late? You -will hardly have time to dress for dinner, and I do so want you to -look well.” - -“Why should you want me to look well? I fancied I was looking rather -nice—that is, for a country cousin, as Josie says.” - -“What!” almost shouted Linda; “hasn’t father told you? I see he -hasn’t—isn’t it just like him? If the Duke of Edinburgh and Lord -Wolseley were coming to dinner he’d forget all about it. And yet he -thinks he’s a good father.” - -“So he is,” said Laura, “and I won’t have him run down. What is the -dreadful secret? Has the aide-de-camp come to ask us to dinner at -Government House?” - -“No! But without joking, Laura, it is a matter of importance. That -is—we should have thought so at Windāhgil. Mr. Barrington Hope is -coming to dine.” - -“Is he?” said Laura, coolly. Linda afterwards said it was “unnatural -calmness.” “Then suppose you ask the maid to turn on the gas -directly. We must put on our best bibs and tuckers, as Mrs. -Grandison says.” - -Mr. Barrington Hope arrived in due time, accurately apparelled and -looking—as most men do—to great advantage in evening costume. Though -much above the ordinary height, his breadth of shoulder and justness -of proportion prevented any appearance of incongruity. Evidently one -of those persons who wisely dismiss the problems of the day with -their ordinary garb, his features wore an entirely different -expression, so closely allied to careless ease that Mr. Stamford -could hardly believe he saw before him the anxious brain-worker of -the morning. - -As the two men stood together on the balcony overlooking the bay -with its evening crowd of water-wayfarers and pleasure seekers, the -elder said— - -“How wonderful an image of rest and peace a calm sea presents, -especially at this hour! There are hard work and deep thoughts -frequently upon blue water, but I confess I can never connect them -together.” - -“My own feeling, quite,” said Hope. “I am passionately fond of the -sea, but few people have less time for indulging such a taste. I -always feel it to be the true home of the lotus-eater. ‘In calm or -storm, by rock or bay,’ there is rest for the soul when on the deep. -If I were safely embarked for Europe and clear of the Heads, I -should almost expire of joy, I really believe.” - -“But why do you not take a holiday—a run to Fiji, San Francisco, -Galle, anywhere? All places strange and foreign are equally good for -change.” - -“Or to the moon,” laughed the young man. “Nearly as much chance of -getting to one as the other. However, I will think it over and -arrange.” - -“Depend upon it, you should not delay. I am something of a -physiognomist, and I see reasons for a foreign tour. Why not make an -application? Urgent private affairs. They could not be more -truthfully described. But here come my young people.” - -Mrs. Stamford and her daughters now appeared. With her usual prompt -kindness she advanced, upon hearing her husband commence a formal -introduction, and held out her hand to the young man. - -“You are well known to us by name, Mr. Hope! I have great pleasure, -believe me, in making your acquaintance. I trust some day that we -may be able to see you at Windāhgil. You will be indeed welcome to -our country home.” - -Mr. Hope bowed with an air as if disclaiming all title to unusual -indulgence, but his eyes strayed from the kind face of the speaker -to that of Laura Stamford, to whom, with Linda, he was now -presented. - -Both these young ladies, in spite of an air of calm repose, were -inwardly somewhat agitated at beholding a personage in whose favour -they had heard so much. Prone, like most damsels of the romantic -age, to invest the probable hero with striking attributes, they had -yet fallen short of a correct estimate of Barrington Hope’s -appearance. Connecting him in more or less degree with his -mercantile profession, they had expected perhaps a look of greater -age, a more concentrated regard, or care-encumbered countenance. -When therefore they were confronted by one of the best-looking, -best-dressed men in the metropolis, separated as to air and manner -apparently from any commonplace pecuniary labours, they could hardly -believe their eyes. - -Linda was inwardly gnashing her teeth, and reproaching the author of -her being in that he was such an inefficient hand at description. -“Would not any one have imagined, Laura,” she said afterwards, “that -Mr. Hope was a hard-headed sort of person, clever at figures and all -that, and good to us? And now, quite suddenly we are brought face to -face with a magnificent man—the finest man I ever saw in my life. -Isn’t it a shame—a crying shame, Laura?” - -“Isn’t what a crying shame? That Mr. Hope is asked to dine, or that -we couldn’t write and request his photograph before the original -burst upon us in all his glory? Do you think you would have liked to -behave differently?” - -“I am sure I can’t tell. But it was such a surprise. I might have -fainted and disgraced myself. But you are such a cold-blooded -creature, Laura; I sometimes think you have no heart.” - -“H’m,” said Laura, “that is a matter of opinion. I do not profess to -wear my heart upon my sleeve, but there is an article of the kind -somewhere deep down, I daresay. What do I think about Mr. Hope? I -think him very nice. He is well-informed, though he did not parade -his knowledge. Understands the science of music, and plays with -taste. I don’t know that I can say more about him at present.” - -“What a prosaic list of qualities; it might have been read out of a -book! But didn’t you like him a great deal?” - -“How could I like any one a great deal the first day I met him? Do -you think I resemble Miss Morton’s heroines, who meet a perfectly -unknown young man, and in an hour have told him all their family -affairs and inmost thoughts? That kind of transparent simplicity is -not in my line.” - -“But you do like him, Laura. Say you do really.” - -“Of course I like a handsome, agreeable man who has been of the -greatest use and benefit to the family, as I like any pleasant -acquaintance. Further than that I decline to commit myself. And now -let me go to sleep.” - -“How you can go to sleep entirely astonishes me. Oh! wasn’t it a -delightful dinner? I felt so nice. I am sure I looked the essence of -propriety and countrified inexperience. Do you think he could -discover that we had seen very little society, Laura?” - -“If he was not a very unobservant man he might easily have made out -so much, I should say; that is if he troubled himself to study us so -deeply. What can it matter?” - -It was not only on that memorable evening that Barrington Hope -produced a favourable impression upon the youthful portion of the -Stamford family. Mrs. Stamford was charmed with him. His manner was -so easy, yet so deferential and so respectful to her and her -daughters. Well-informed as to the European politics of the day, he -inferentially, in an argument with Mr. Stamford, showed himself to -be widely read. He was familiar with the latest songs, the very last -waltz; he sang a duet with Laura, and even played an accompaniment -which showed more than theoretical knowledge of the science of -music. - -When he made his adieux somewhat early in the evening, every voice -was musical in his praise. - -“He’s a delightful creature,” said Linda, “all my fancy painted him, -and more. How different he is from most of the men one meets. So -free from conceit, and yet he knows so much, doesn’t he? And what a -good touch he has on the piano! But men always play better than we -do when they play at all. When are we going to see him again?” - -“He is to send us tickets for the Bachelors’ Ball,” said Laura. “We -shall meet him there, of course. What a grand affair it is to be!” - -“I shall catch a fever and die before the day arrives,” said Linda, -plaintively. “The happiness will be too great to be realised. Oh! -oh, dear! Oh! dear! how shall we pass the intervening days? Luckily -our dresses will take up a good deal of our thoughts and spare time. -Do you think he dances well, Laura?” - -“Mr. Hope appears to do many things well. I don’t suppose he showed -us all his good qualities in one evening. He is a man of the world, -and doesn’t have all his goods in the shop window at once.” - -“What a horrid idea, Laura. You haven’t half as much sentiment as I -have. I hope he hasn’t many more accomplishments; I don’t care for a -man being perfect. Perhaps he has a bad temper underneath. Men with -soft voices often have.” - -“I didn’t notice any uncommon softness of voice. I thought he spoke -naturally, which is the great thing after all, with men or women -either. But after we go to the ball you will most likely discover -that there are other men in the world.” - -“I don’t care. I am quite certain there are very few nicer ones, if -any. I think you must admire him yourself, Laura; you are so guarded -about him, and I am sure he has taken a fancy to you.” - -“Nonsense, Linda! Really you are old enough to talk more sensibly. -How can any one form any liking or otherwise in a single evening?” - -“What, not love at first sight?” exclaimed Linda, jumping up in an -excited manner. “Do you disbelieve wholly in that? What does -Disraeli say in that lovely _Venetia_ of his? ‘There is no love but -love at first sight,’ or first love, I forget which.” - -“They are different things,” answered Laura; “but Disraeli ought to -have more sense than to write in a way to turn silly girls’ heads. I -think your novel-reading will have to be restricted, Linda, before -long; I must really speak to mother.” - -“It’s too late now, Laura. I’ve read all sorts of things, but they -don’t do girls any harm. Bad companions do, if you like. They are -destructive; but we never had any friends that we were ashamed of. -And so you don’t like Mr. Hope.” - -“I didn’t say that,” answered Laura; “but really you’re as -persistent as an interviewer, Linda,” and she quitted the room. - -In spite of Linda’s repeated assertions that the week preceding the -ball never would come to an end, the despised days passed -away—perhaps too quickly indeed for some people. A picnic in the -harbour, the detail of which was arranged by Mr. Hope, and which -every one enjoyed ecstatically, as Linda avowed, perhaps aided the -flight of time. A visit to the theatre, where the London Comedy -Company was performing, also tended to prevent undue concentration -of thought. And, oh! wonder of wonders, and joy of joys, was not the -Intercolonial Exhibition, that Aladdin’s Palace of Art and Industry, -daily open, daily enjoyed to the very acme of novel excitement? - -How delicious was it to stroll around the fountain in the afternoon -of each day, while the music of the Austrian Band rose to the lofty -roof or floated dreamlike amid the aisles and courts; to sit -silently absorbing delicious sounds amid the strange beauty and -variety of the scene; to wander amid the heaped up riches of the -curiosities of every land under the sun, encountering well-known -friends unexpectedly, or exchanging the pleasantries of the hour -with gay acquaintances. Such were the resources thrown open to the -erstwhile dwellers at Windāhgil. Small surprise need therefore be -aroused by Linda’s next declaration, that the ball would be upon -them all too swiftly, and find them unprepared. Strangely sweet -sorrows and sighs of youth! joys in disguise are they for the most -part. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - -Although the ball bore the name of the Bachelors’, it was generally -known to be an entertainment got up by the unmarried members of the -leading clubs. As was their wont, no expense would be spared. -Invitations had been comparatively restricted; many had been -disappointed who had made certain of the privilege. All this, of -course, made the happy possessors of the tickets still more -gratified by their good fortune. The finest hall in the city had -been secured for the occasion. The ornamentation was said to be -unparalleled, the supper without precedent for style and -expensiveness. A celebrated European band, then on a tour through -Australia, had been engaged. Sailors from a man-of-war anchored in -the harbour were kindly lent to hold a rope which served to divide -the ball-room. It was questionable whether so truly magnificent a -ball had ever been given in Sydney, or perhaps would be given again. - -The weather was evidently “set fair”—there would be no deduction -from comfort on that account. It was weeks since a great society -entertainment had been given. The _haute volée_ of Sydney was -manifestly fluttered. Some of the younger feminine members openly -stated that, after tasting to the full of its delights, they would -be ready to lie down and die. - -At length the long-expected day arrived, on the night of which the -fondly-anticipated Bachelors’ Ball was to take place. All feminine -adult Sydney—that is to say, the fortunate section which was -entitled to the _entrée_—was moved to its centre. No statistics are -to hand of the number of dressmakers who temporarily became of -unsound mind because of the terrific call upon their fingers and -brains, tempers and tongues. Nevertheless, according to the doctrine -of averages, there must have been a certain number of the managers -and of the young persons whose passage to an early grave was thereby -accelerated. - -Mrs. Stamford, wisely forecasting, had carried out arrangements for -her own and the girls’ dresses at a comparatively early period, had -got them home with all necessary alterations and trimmings decided -upon long before the real crush of the thoughtless began, or the -panic of the dangerously late set in. - -Simple as were the materials, few the ornaments, and unobtrusive the -accordance with the prevailing fashion, the full measure of -satisfactory fitting was not completed without several interviews -and divers alterations. The sum total of her milliner’s bill -astonished, even alarmed, Mrs. Stamford. - -But her husband, when giving her _carte blanche_, had intimated that -he did not wish trifling economies to be studied, that his wife and -daughters must look their best; all the world was to be there, and -as it was to be a rare occasion, they had better take full advantage -of it. - -When the hour sounded, Laura had been dressed and finished to the -last lace; had indeed been sitting quietly reading, awaiting the -arrival of their carriage. But Linda could not contain her -impatience. She walked up and down the sitting-room spreading out -her dress occasionally, and requesting her mother to say if it was -“straight,” whether her flowers were exactly in their places, -whether it would not have been better for her to have worn another -colour. This conversation was varied by wondering whether she would -get any partners, or have to sit on a seat the whole evening; -whether Mr. Hope would find them out, or be so occupied with his -duties as steward that he would not observe them or have time to -dance with them. To which inquiries her parents either were unable -to reply satisfactorily or said she would see when she got there. - -“Do you know, Laura,” she suddenly added, “impartially speaking, you -are really a pretty girl! I am sure if I were a stranger I should -think so; I should indeed. Your features are not perfection, except -your eyes, I mean—I don’t think any one could say they were not -first class. But you have a very taking look when you are interested -about anything; and then you are tallish and slight—not too tall -either. You could look dignified too, if you liked, which is a great -advantage to a woman, while I am afraid I never could. If I were to -set my mouth and knit my brows and say ‘Sir! I fail to understand -you,’ people would only laugh and pat me on the back. It would never -freeze the blood in their veins, or anything of that sort. Now -‘father, dearest father!’ as the Wanderer in the play says, don’t -you think Laura looks perfectly splendid to-night?” - -“Bless her heart!” said Mr. Stamford, answering the question while -he gazed at his eldest daughter with fond admiration, “she looks -like a—like a queen in a book, like a princess in the _Arabian -Nights_; like her father’s own dear girl. I trust she will enjoy -herself as much as she deserves; and you too, Linda, darling.” - -Laura Stamford without doubt did look a most perfect incarnation of -innocent, girlish beauty. And, indeed, when is a maiden more likely -to present that appearance than on the night of the first ball of -note and importance to which she has been bidden? Her cheek slightly -flushed with the excitement of untasted pleasure, her eyes sparkling -with innocent excitement; her red-rose lips; her rounded arms; her -ivory neck; her slender, supple form; her free, elastic step—if -these attributes do not, in combination, make up the wondrous, -God-given, crowning gift of beauty, then have the grateful eyes of -mankind never been gladdened with the vision. - -“Father is perfectly just in his opinion of dear Laura’s appearance -to-night,” said Mrs. Stamford, with a mother’s guarded approval; -“and my little girl here, too, looks extremely nice. I might say -more, were I not afraid of making her vain. I can only tell her not -to be anxious about herself; to trust to the course of events, and -all will go well. We must have a grand talk over it all to-morrow -morning.” - -“Here comes the carriage at last, I am thankful to say,” said Laura, -as the grand London-made barouche rolled up to the door, while the -footman rang the bell sufficiently long to make a nervous inmate -conclude it to be a fire. - -“Muffle up and run down, my dears! We must not keep three hundred -guineas’ worth of horseflesh waiting at night,” said her father. - -Mrs. Grandison and Josie were in the carriage. The former made room -beside her for Mrs. Stamford, saying, “You girls must sit together -on the back seat. It’s large enough to hold four of you now there’s -no crinoline—at least, none to speak of. Perhaps Mr. Stamford won’t -mind sitting on the box—once upon a time two people would have -filled this carriage. How did you get on with your dresses, girls? -Mine and Josie’s only came late in the afternoon, after that -infamous Madame Rocheretti promising to have them fitted on and -everything done in the way of trimmings yesterday. However, she -threw herself on my mercy, as she said the Government House people -had come down upon her at the last moment.” - -“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Josie. “However, I have made up -my mind to have my dresses made at Justine’s in future. She is -dearer, but she has twice as much originality. What have you got on, -Laura?” - -“Nothing very wonderful. We went to mother’s old dressmaker, Madame -Schlesinger, that she used to have when she was first married. She -is behind the times, I dare say, but a ball is a ball with Linda and -me. We shall enjoy ourselves, I dare say. If we are much disfigured -this time, we shall gradually advance to a knowledge of high -millinery.” - -“You’ll see when you go into the room how the other women are -dressed,” said Josie authoritatively. “If you’re dowdy, it will make -you so miserable that you’ll be more careful next time. I would have -come down and given you a hint or two, but I make it a rule never to -stir out on the day of a ball, and all yesterday I was too busy.” - -“It is very kind of you,” said Laura, warmly, “and we were uncertain -about several things, but it doesn’t matter particularly.” - -“Laura must make up by freshness and youth what she wants in style,” -said Mrs. Grandison good-humouredly. “I dare say she and Linda will -do very well, though I really believe Josie’s will be the best dress -in the room. And indeed it ought to be. Mr. Grandison’s cheque, and -it was a large one, didn’t nearly pay for it.” - -“Laura is only a year younger than I am, mamma,” said Josie, rather -sharply. “One would think I was getting quite an old hag. I wonder -if all the best men are going? Is that good looking Mr. Hope sure to -be there?” - -“Yes,” said Linda; “he told us he was one of the committee.” - -Further conversation was rendered difficult by the dashing of the -carriage into the “line.” The string of ball-ward carriages, of -which they now formed a part, compelled them to proceed at a walk -until the foremost vehicles drove up and deposited their occupants. -The novelty of making a part of such an astonishing procession -almost roused Linda’s spirits to the point of expressing the -admiration of everything which she felt. But, recalling her mother’s -advice and the responsibility of decorous demeanour now cast upon -her, she refrained, at great personal cost and self-denial. She was -rewarded in turn by the arrival of the carriage at the magic portal, -from the interior of which a blaze of lamps and fairy splendour was -visible. - -A few moments saw them safely ushered into the dressing-room, -provided with all accessories needful for repairing temporary damage -or partial disarray. Small stay, however, was made here, and after -Josie had gazed at herself in the mirrors from every conceivable -point, and had herself adjusted by her obedient mother in several -different modes, they bent their steps towards the main entrance to -the ball-room, where they found Mr. Stamford awaiting them. By a -curious coincidence, Mr. Barrington Hope chanced to come that way, -when, giving his arm to Mrs. Stamford and Laura, he walked up to the -top of the enormous room, leaving Mr. Stamford to bring up the rear -with Mrs. Grandison and the two girls. - -The latter lady lost no time in locating herself next to the wife of -a well-known member of Parliament, and at no great distance from the -wife and daughter of the Governor. - -She signed to Mrs. Stamford to sit next to her, and being thus -within the Vice-regal circle, as it were, considered the seating and -rendezvous part of the business to be settled for the night. - -Mr. Barrington Hope immediately possessed himself of Laura’s card, -upon which he inscribed his name for two waltzes and said something -about an extra as well. Josie was surrounded by several of the -_jeunesse dorée_, who appropriated a large share of the dances not -marked engaged. Of these there were several unnamed, and yet not -open. When questioned, she declined to give the names of her -partners, merely remarking that she reserved them for friends. As -for Linda, she sat down in a state of wonder and admiration at the -whole splendid array, to her astonished gaze supernal in glory and -dazzling in brilliancy. The magnificent and lofty hall, the crowd of -well-dressed men and women, the glass-like floor, the melodious -crash of the band, which filled the room with the music of the -spheres, as it seemed to her, the hall divided by a rope held by -picturesque tars modelled upon the lines of the nautical melodrama; -the swing and sway of the immortal dance-music of Johann -Strauss—which had for some time commenced—the uniforms of the naval -and military officers, all these wonders and splendours for a time -obscured in her mind the fact that nobody had as yet asked her to -dance. - -She had suddenly become aware of this fact, and was subsiding into a -plaintive and resigned condition, a prey to dismal anticipations, -when Mr. Hope suddenly appeared in company of a naval lieutenant, -whom he begged leave to introduce. - -Linda bowed with acquiescence, and the next moment was whirling -around with the joyous throng, conscious that she danced well, -feeling herself to be one of the leading performers, and quite on a -par with all other individuals of her age and sex. - -The young officer danced well, as do naval men generally. He talked -easily and agreeably, with that happy mixture of brusquerie and -refinement which renders the service so irresistible. Linda -apparently came up to his standard of a nice girl and a desirable -partner, since he begged leave to put down his name for two more -dances; he also brought up some brother officers, including a stout -doctor and a small but preternaturally cool and amusing midshipman, -so that when Mr. Hope came for his dance, he was nearly crowded out -by the naval brigade, who quite encompassed Linda, to the exclusion -of the most irreproachable civilians. - -If Linda was a success, it seemed that Laura was destined to achieve -a genuine triumph. - -Shortly after her first dance with Barrington Hope there appeared to -be an unusual amount of interest displayed in the vicinity of Mrs. -Grandison, who, of course, was extensively known in the _grande -monde_. A variety of entertaining conversation was indulged in with -that lady, generally ending with a respectful request for an -introduction to the young lady in white. - -The good-natured matron did not grudge the girl her meed of praise; -still she occasionally remarked without satisfaction that the great -guns of the fashionable world, the inheritors of wealth and estates -of proverbial grandeur, the travelled and fastidious “elegants,” -contented themselves with a passing notice or a laughing exchange of -badinage with Josie while they struggled for Laura’s card, and -searched closely the lower figures of the programme, uncertain as -she declared it to be that her party would remain to conclude it. - -Mr. Grandison, who had stayed rather late at the club over a -seductive hand of whist, now came up in time to glance at things -generally. He was extremely complimentary as to the appearance of -his young friends, and declared that Laura had been voted the belle -of the ball by several of the leading authorities of the club, -against whose decision there was manifestly no appeal. - -“There’s a sort of freshness, and, well, I hardly know what to -call it,” he said, “about girls that come from the country that -fetches the men of taste. The town girls are better millinered and -so on; but they can’t get the colour and the innocent look, -the—ah—dew-drop, early morning sort of brightness,” continued Mr. -Grandison, who had refreshed liberally with the Heidsiek dry -monopole which the club imported, and was becoming poetical. -“That’s what there’s no standing against. Dash it, Stamford, old -fellow! Laura’s cut ’em all down to-night. White dress, rose in -her hair, and so on. It’s the real thing when the complexion will -stand it. There’s not a girl here to-night who’s a patch on her. I -heard Donald M’Intosh say so himself.” - -This stupendous announcement produced no reply for the moment. That -_the_ bachelor eligible, _par excellence_, the man of estates and -establishments, who had travelled, had taken an English University -degree, distinguished equally for tennis play as for parliamentary -influence, who was generally an invited member of the Vice-regal -party at public demonstrations and amusements, that _he_ should have -awarded the golden pippin to the unknown provincial damsel, struck -Mrs. Grandison dumb with astonishment, and caused Josie to turn -paler with envy than even her ordinary complexion warranted. - -When Mrs. Grandison recovered herself, she said, “Upon my word, Mr. -Grandison, you’re determined to make the girl vain—though she is -dancing now, and can’t hear. One would think you hadn’t a daughter -of your own. Not but what Laura does look very nice, Mrs. Stamford, -only it seems to me the champagne’s very good to-night.” - -“What do people come to a ball for?” returned her husband, -gallantly. “Come over to the supper-table and have a glass yourself, -my dear. Stamford, you bring my wife and Josie. I’ll take Mrs. -Stamford, and we’ll drink Laura’s health. After that it’s time to go -home. Struck two, and the best of the fun’s over.” - -“I’ve had enough,” said Josie, who had sat out the last two dances. -“For my part, I begin to hate balls; they get stupider every time, I -think. And, oh, how tired I am!” - -So in ten minutes afterwards, Mr. Stamford and his wife marched down -the room and carried off their daughters, to the great and sincere -grief of their prospective partners. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - -Laura Stamford, like other girls, would have preferred to stay at -the ball for another hour—to have danced another waltz with Mr. -Donald M’Intosh, who indeed made himself most agreeable. But her -natural tendencies lay in the direction of sympathetic consideration -for others. When, therefore, she remarked the tired look on her -mother’s face, and, moreover, instantly remembered that they were to -be conveyed homeward in the Grandisons’ carriage, she at once -declared her willingness to depart, telling her despairing partner -that “she must really go; Mrs. Grandison and her mother were waiting -for her.” - -“If I persuade Mrs. Grandison to wait for the next waltz, may I say -I have your permission?” eagerly inquired Mr. M’Intosh. - -“No! indeed, no!” said Laura, looking at Mrs. Stamford’s resigned -yet weary countenance, the lines on which she could read so well. -“No, thank you! I must say good bye, I really must not consent to -stay on any terms whatever. Please to take me to my mother.” - -Mr. M’Intosh bowed low, and made his most impressive adieu. After -which he betook himself to the supper-room, and declined dancing for -the short time for which he remained among the revellers. - -Latish, but not unreasonably near to lunchtime, the Stamford family -showed up to breakfast after the ball. - -Every one was tolerably fresh. The slight pallor, the darkened lines -under the eyes of Laura and Linda, only communicated an added charm -to their youthful countenances. - -Mrs. Stamford looked hardly restored, but after the first cup of tea -rallied, and enjoyed a _réchauffé_ of the great night’s -entertainment. - -“Whatever happens, _Ich habe gelebt und geliebt_,” said Linda, who -had a turn for German literature. “I did not believe such happiness -was to be found on earth! And to think that I am only nineteen, too! -I shall die early, or else it will consume me.” - -“You certainly seemed to be having a very pleasant time of it, with -your naval friends,” assented Laura. “People’s views of the area of -existence must be enlarging. But it certainly was the most -transcendent ball. I feel almost humiliated at having enjoyed it so -much.” - -“I begin to think we must not have many dances of that sort,” said -Mrs. Stamford. “I’m afraid they are too exciting. You girls will -find Windāhgil dull and prosaic after this.” - -“Not at all,” said Laura, taking her mother’s hand affectionately. -“We shall have souvenirs that will last us a year, that is all. Next -to coming to town the going back to dear, peaceful, happy old -Windāhgil is the greatest pleasure I can imagine in life.” - -“Won’t it be delightful,” said Linda, “talking over all our -experiences? Then reading up the lovely books we’re taking home. I -always wonder how any one can call “the bush” dull. It will be a -perfect elysium of rest after all this fierce excitement.” - -“And when are we to go home?” inquired Mr. Stamford tentatively; “at -the end of the week?” - -“Oh! no, no! out of the question,” called out both the girls. - -“Mr. Fitzurse said,” pleaded Linda, “that they were going to have a -_déjeuner_ and a dance on board the _Eurydice_ on Monday, and if I -didn’t go the ship would turn over and sink, like the _Austral_.” - -“Mr. M’Intosh mentioned something about a _matinée musicale_ which -was to be at Government House on Tuesday,“ said Laura, at which -Mademoiselle Claironnet was to give her celebrated recitals out of -_Lohengrin_. It would be a pity to miss that. He felt sure we would -have tickets sent us.” - -“There’s to be a tennis party at the Whartons’,” said Linda, “on -Wednesday. They have an asphalte court, and the winners of the last -tournament are to be there, besides Miss Constance Grey, who is the -champion Melbourne player. I want to see if I have any of my old -form left.” - -“Mr. Hope is going to drive four-in-hand to the picnic at Botany -Heads on Thursday,” said Laura, carelessly; “he said he could easily -take us all, and I was to have the box seat. It would be almost a -pity not to go, don’t you think?” - -“Exactly so,” said Mr. Stamford; “and we’re all to dine at -Chatsworth on Friday, so it looks as if the week was pretty well -discounted in advance. Well, Saturday for recovery, on Sunday we’ll -all go to the Cathedral, on Monday—mind, Monday week—we start for -home, if all the picnics, parties, and pleasure-promises of Sydney -were to be left unfurnished and unfulfilled.” - -“I am sure, girls, you should think your father the best of living -parents,” said Mrs. Stamford. “I don’t know how we can be grateful -enough to him. I wanted a day’s shopping before our departure, and -this will give us time to finish up comfortably. I was dreadfully -afraid that we should have to leave town this week.” - -Laura and Linda laughed outright at this. - -“Why, mother,” said Linda, we couldn’t do that without breaking our -words, being ungrateful, and doing everything that you have brought -us up not to do; could we, Laura? I promised faithfully to go to -this dance on board the _Eurydice_; she’s anchored in Neutral Bay, -and Mr. Fitzurse said he’d send a boat specially for us. It would be -disgraceful to throw him over.” - -“And who gave you leave to promise and vow, Miss Linda, in the -absence of your parents, may I ask?” said Mr. Stamford. “You don’t -seem to understand that, unless we are consulted, all your -undertakings are vain.” - -“Oh! but I knew you would approve,” said Linda; “besides Mr. -Fitzurse was so respectful and nice—perfectly timid, in fact—that I -thought it would be unladylike to refuse. And we have never seen a -man-of-war—a ship I mean. What a lot we shall have to tell Hubert, -shall we not, mother?” - -“If you tell him everything you’ll have a great historiette, or -confession, whatever you call it, to make,” said Laura, “if one may -judge by the amount of chattering I saw going on. - -“Some people may not chatter, but do a great deal of -serious—h’m—friendship-making in the same time,” retorted Linda. -“But I don’t mind, I’m so happy. Everything’s delightful. I had no -idea the world was such a nice place.” - -Although matters could not be expected to keep up to the degree of -high pressure indicated, an unusual and highly satisfactory amount -of recreation was transacted during the remainder of the reprieve -allowed by fate and Mr. Stamford. - -The dance on board the _Eurydice_ came off, when Linda enjoyed the -supreme and exquisite felicity of being taken off from the pier in a -barge with twelve rowers and the _Eurydice_ flag flying; the crew -being dominated by an implacable midshipman of the sternest -demeanour. They were received with all due formality and ceremony at -the gangway, and being thereafter marshalled about by Lieutenant -Fitzurse, before envious comrades, Linda’s joy was complete. The -dance, as most naval entertainments are, was wonderfully organised, -and truly successful. Epauletted heroes were plentiful, and even the -Commodore himself graciously explained the rudiments of nautical -science to Laura and her mother. The happy day ended with a romantic -return sail, with a favouring breeze, under a silver moon, over the -mystical, motionless deep. - -It was fairyland once more possible in this world below. The happy -girls could hardly realise that they were the same people who had -been, but one little year ago, mourning the unkind season, sadly -contending with the wrath of Heaven and the wrongs of earth. - -The _matinée musicale_, honoured by Vice-regal patronage, was also -transacted with all the society population of Sydney in full array -and punctual attendance. Here Mr. Donald M’Intosh, a distinguished -amateur, held pre-eminent sway. His “marked attentions” to Laura -caused her to be the observed of all observers, a circumstance -which, however, did not interfere with her frankly expressed -enjoyment of the musical luxuries. - -“Why, Laura!” said her cousin, “if you go on in this way you and -Linda will have all the Sydney girls mobbing you, or petitioning for -your rustication without delay. You have fascinated the sailors, and -not contented with that, you seem only to have to hold up your hand -to have that difficult, delightful Mr. M’Intosh, the least -susceptible man in Sydney, at your feet. Then there is Mr. Hope, -neglecting his business and driving four-in-hand, as I hear to this -picnic, all for your sake! What is your charm, may I ask?” - -“I don’t quite understand you, Josie,” she answered (which, perhaps, -was pardonably insincere); “we are enjoying ourselves very much, and -everybody is extremely kind.” - -“I should think so, indeed,” replied Miss Josie, scornfully. - -As for the great picnic, everybody was there. The day was lovely, -the sea calm, the sky of the glowing azure which the south land only -boasts, the road perfect. The rival four-in-hand drags, including -Mr. Hope’s chestnuts, combined to produce a perfectly faithful -presentment of the ideal life which Linda had previously concluded -to be limited to society novels, and the, perhaps, mythical -personages depicted therein. - -There was even a Royal Duke among the guests, though when he was -pointed out to her, Laura committed the error of mistaking for him a -well-known officer of police in attendance, whose aristocratic -figure and distinguished bearing at once decided her in her quest -for royalty. However, the slight mistake was soon rectified, and the -day burned itself into her maiden consciousness as one of those -seasons of enjoyment which rarely fulfil anticipation, but if so, -continue to illumine the halls of memory until life’s latest hour. - -“This is our farewell to the sea for a while,” thought Laura. “I -can’t help feeling melancholy. What a lovely haze spreads over the -ocean in the distance! How strange to think that it is nearly a -hundred years since Cook sailed into these silent headlands. What a -new world he was preparing! It was more than a discovery. Almost a -creation. Oh, day of days! Oh, whispering breeze! Oh, soft blue sky! -Can the earth hold anything more lovely?” - -The “pleasures and palaces” having come to an end, the fatal Monday -made its unwelcome appearance. - -As the Stamfords’ day of departure was known, there was an unwonted -influx of afternoon visitors at their rooms, besides a dropping fire -of cards, notes, and messages, expressive of different shades of -regret. - -“Oh, dear! I had no idea Sydney was such a nice place,” exclaimed -Linda, as the twilight hour approached, and the stream of friends -and acquaintances ceased to flow. “I could not have believed there -were so many delightful people in the world. Why will writers say so -many unpleasant things about society? It seems full of polite, -graceful, affectionate persons. As for the malignant and wicked -people that all the books rave about, where are they? We have not -seen them, certainly, or even heard of them, have we, Laura?” - -“I believe not—yes—no,” answered Laura, absently. “But who said -anybody was wicked?” - -“Nobody, of course,” explained Linda. “I only meant that in every -book you read there are pages and pages devoted to descriptions of -ingeniously wicked people, who seem as common in every city as -bookmakers at a racecourse, whereas I said we never see any of them, -or hear either.” - -“See whom?” inquired Laura, who was looking out thoughtfully over -the harbour. “Do you mean any one who called this afternoon?” - -“What nonsense you are talking, Laura! I really believe you must be -thinking of something, or rather somebody, else. I wonder whom it -can be? Certainly you have received a good deal of attention—‘marked -attention,’ as Mrs. Grandison always says. How cross Josie looked -when she said it! First of all Mr. Barrington Hope, then Mr. -M’Intosh, then Mr.—who was that nice man from New Zealand?” - -“Really Linda, you are altogether too ridiculous. Am I to be called -to account about every one of my partners? If so, you had better get -my ball programmes—I have kept them all—and ask everybody’s -intentions right down the lists.” - -“I don’t mean partners, Laura; I had plenty of them, I am thankful -to say; but people didn’t come every other day to the house—besides -waylaying one everywhere, and making a fuss over father and poor -dear mother. They drew the line at that.” - -“I feel more and more convinced, Linda, that you have not quite -finished packing,” remarked Laura calmly. “The tea-bell will ring -directly, and we shall have no more time then. Do think a little. I -saw your cerise silk in our room, I feel sure, just now.” - -“Oh, my lovely cerise silk! To think I should have forgotten it!” -said Linda, quite diverted from her line of cross-questioning. “But -where will it go? I haven’t the faintest notion. My trunk is -full—more than full—and pressed down. It wouldn’t hold another -handkerchief.” - -“Be a good girl, and promise to talk sensibly, and I may spare you a -place in mine,” said Laura, smiling at her victory. “I am just going -to fold and put away my last dress.” - -“You are always so kind, Laura. I did not mean to tease you, but I -really do feel anxious about Mr. M’Intosh. Suppose he was only -amusing himself with you all the time!” - -“Then you will be able to console yourself with the idea that you -have seen at least one wicked person,” said Laura, with great good -humour; “and so your knowledge of the great world will be expanded. -But I will venture to contradict the charge, as far as he is -concerned. But remember on what terms I provide a place for your -forlorn dress. Besides I want to write one or two good-bye notes.” - - * * * * * - -Although Laura was outwardly calm and self-possessed, she was not -wholly unmoved by certain considerations which Linda’s badinage had -suggested. - -Unless her perception played her false upon a subject on which -women, even when inexperienced, commonly judge correctly, both Mr. -Barrington Hope and Mr. M’Intosh were seriously interested in her -good opinion of them. The latter gentleman had indeed been so -persistent and pressing, that she had been compelled with great -gentleness, yet with firmness, to discourage his advances. This step -she took with a certain reluctance—more perhaps, because she had not -finally resolved as to her state of feeling than because she in any -way disliked him. - -Dislike him? No—who could, indeed, dislike Donald M’Intosh? Was he -not handsome, accomplished, manly, possessed, moreover, of all the -subtle graces of manner that almost invariably attach themselves to -a man, be he good, bad, or indifferent as to morals or brains, who -has “seen the world,” as the phrase runs—who has met his -fellow-creatures all his life under the highly-favoured -circumstances of an assured position and ample means? - -He certainly had been most assiduous, most respectful, most -flatteringly _empresse_ in his manner, bestowing that unconcealed -admiration which gratifies the vanity of womanhood, at the same time -that it is apt to arouse the ire of the virgins, both wise and -foolish, who are less prominently noticed. - -Then his “position,” as it is called. He possessed that social -distinction, that untitled rank, which is perhaps as clearly -defined, as freely yielded, or firmly refused, in a colony as in -England. He was a great country gentleman—such a man as in Britain a -hundred years ago would have periodically gone up to London in his -family carriage attended by outriders and driven by postillions. -Here in the colonies he was known as a man of good family, who had -inherited large estates, besides pastoral possessions of even -greater value, lands in city and suburbs, houses in fashionable -squares all derived from well-considered investments in those early -days when every hundred pounds in cash—sometimes even a tenth of -that proverbial sum—so invested bore fruit fiftyfold or a -thousandfold, as the case might be. - -Then there was his magnificent place, Glenduart, of which everybody -had heard. Such a drawing-room, such suites of apartments! Gardens -and stables, conservatories and fountains, picture-gallery and -statuary—what not! Had he not entertained the Governor and Lady -Delmore there? Everybody said it was like a nobleman’s house in -England, or, at any rate, one of those beautiful old country seats -which are the glory of the parent land. His horses, too, his -carriages—what a four-in-hand team had he driven at the picnic they -had all gone to! - -And all this at her feet! Was there a girl in Sydney—as far as any -one could judge—that would not—she could not say “jump at,” even in -her thoughts—but willingly accept him? - -What a chorus of congratulations or detractions, both equally -gratifying, would not the announcement of her engagement arouse! - -Thus far the world, the natural, impulsive feeling of the human -heart, unchecked by the calm voice of reason, the warnings of the -inner soul. - -On the other hand, was he so fitted in character and mentally -fashioned as to accord with the tone of her mind, with the -principles in which from childhood she had been reared? Did they -agree in opinion on subjects which were to her vitally important? -Were their tastes mainly in accord? and if differing, was his -disposition such as would lead her to suppose that he would modify -his predilections to suit her wishes? - -She could not say. She did not know. Her ignorance of his character -was complete. All that she could possibly assure herself that she -knew concerning Donald M’Intosh was what the world said of him, and -no more—that he was brave, generous, courteous, and rich. So much -she admitted. But her experience had been merely of the outer husk -of his nature. The varnish with which the natural man is concealed -from his fellows was flawless and brilliant. All might be in -accordance with the fair-seeming, attractive exterior. On the other -hand, much might be hidden beneath, the revelation of which would -constitute the difference to Laura Stamford between joy and peace, -hope and happiness upon earth, or misery complete and unending, -hopeless despair. - -It was a terrible risk to run, an uncertainty altogether too -momentous to encounter at present. Dismissing the subject of Mr. -M’Intosh’s interests and prospects, there was—and she blushed even -when naming his name in her own heart—there was Barrington Hope. He -had little to offer in any way comparable to the other in what most -people would consider the essentials of matrimonial success. A -hard-worked man compelled to tax his every mental faculty to the -uttermost, in order to meet the demands of his occupation. From one -point of view, no doubt, his position was high; no man of his age -had, perhaps, the same rank and consideration in finance. But the -magnificence of “seigneury” was not his—never probably would be. In -spite of his birth, which was equal to that of any magnate of the -land, no girl of the period, no matron who knew the world, would -think for a moment of comparing the social status of the two men. - -But in his favour there were arguments of weight. She knew him to be -a man of refined tastes, of literary culture, of high moral -principle, of fastidious delicacy of tone and taste. It may be that -Laura Stamford only thought she knew these things, that she -committed the feminine mistake of taking for granted that the hero -of her girlish romance was perfection. It may be confessed here that -Barrington Hope was the first man who had had power to stir those -mysterious passion-currents which sleep so calmly in the heart of -youth, puissant as they are when fully aroused to hurry the -possessor to destruction or despair. But she was, for her age, a -calm observer, having, moreover, a full measure of the sex’s -intuitive discernment. In all their light or serious conversation, -she had marked in the mind of Barrington Hope the signs of high and -lofty purpose, of a chivalrous nature, an inborn generosity only -controlled by the voice of conscience and the dictates of an -enforced prudence. - -And did he love her as in her heart she told herself she deserved to -be loved? - -Of that all-important fact she could not yet assure herself. But, -patient ever, and modestly doubtful of all things which concerned -her personal influence, Laura decided that she could well afford to -await the direction of circumstances. Her home duties were still -paramount in her steadfast mind. She had no immediate wish that they -should be cast aside for objects purely personal. There was yet much -to do at Windāhgil. Linda was scarcely capable of assuming the -responsibilities of housekeeping, and should she make default, she -knew upon whose shoulders the burden would fall. The younger -brothers and Hubert, who had hardly been separated from her thoughts -for an hour since childhood—all the love and gentle tendence due to -them were not to be uprooted and flung away to wither like weeds out -of the garden path. No! The time might come when she, Laura -Stamford, like other girls, would go forth from her father’s house, -bidding farewell to the loved ones of her youth—of her life—part of -her very soul, as they were; but there was no necessity for haste. -She must take time for careful choice—for sober counsel. She had -never been wont to do anything of importance hastily. She would not -furnish so bad a precedent now. - -So in spite of Linda’s desponding protestations that they never -would be actually, completely, and finally packed up, the fated -evening came which witnessed a devoted cab, overladen with such an -array of luggage as caused Mr. Stamford to exclaim and the -hall-porter to smile. - -On the preceding Sunday every one had gone dutifully to church, but -in the afternoon Linda’s devotional feelings must have been somewhat -intermixed with ideas of a nautical nature, judging from audible -scraps of conversation, as carried on by Lieutenant Fitzurse, R.N., -and his comrades, who had thought it only decent and fitting, as -they observed, to make their adieux to Miss Linda Stamford before -she went back to Western Australia or Riverina, or whatever far-away -place “in the bush,” they had heard she was bound for. - -Mr. Hope did not arrive on that afternoon, although Mr. M’Intosh -did, but, having something to say to Mr. Stamford, presumably on -business, he came in time to accompany them to the railway station, -and to receive a warm invitation from that gentleman to visit them -at Windāhgil directly he could get leave of absence. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - -Linda began to look out of the window at least two miles from the -Mooramah railway station. A few seconds before the train stopped, -she discovered Hubert on the platform. - -Waving his hand to her, he was at the window in a moment, receiving, -indeed, personal tokens of welcome long before the guard could open -the door and collect the tickets. - -“Oh! I _am_ so glad to see you again, dearest, dearest Hubert,” -exclaimed Linda. “You have no idea how nice and large Mooramah -looks. I am sure I shall never stir away from dear old Windāhgil for -a year. I don’t feel proud at all, do you, Laura? I am sure we are -both immensely improved, though. Don’t you think so, Hubert?” - -“You must wait till you are at home again, and I can turn you round -and examine you both carefully,” said Hubert; “there are too many -people here at present. I think mother looks splendid, and the -governor gets younger every time he sees Sydney. I shall have to go -soon, or our ages will be reversed.” - -“Poor, dear old Hubert!” said Laura, looking at her brother’s -sun-burnt face, and spare, muscular figure; “I’m sure you’ve been -working yourself to death while we were away, with nobody to stop -you. Never mind, we’ll soon make a difference—if we don’t talk you -to death the first week.” - -“I can hear all you’ve got to say,” said Hubert; “but just now let -us get the luggage counted and ready for Jerry to put in the spring -cart; then we’ll rattle home in the buggy. Don’t the old horses look -well?” - -“Splendid!” said Linda. “They have beautiful coats too, which I did -not expect. They’re not quite so aristocratic in demeanour as Mr. -Grandison’s carriage horses, but they can trot about double as fast, -I daresay.” - -“They look very different to what they did this time last year,” -said Hubert, running his eye over the middle-sized, well-bred, wiry -pair. “Do you remember poor old Whalebone tumbling down—Whipcord was -nearly as bad—as we were driving to church, from sheer weakness?” - -“Oh! yes,” said Linda; “we had to tie up the pole of the buggy with -our pocket-handkerchiefs; poor old dear! He looks as if he could -pull one’s arms off now.” - -Once fairly off behind the fourteen-mile-an-hour buggy horses, -spinning along the smooth bush road—the best wheel track in the -world in good weather and in a dry country, that is, its normal -state—the spirits of the party rose several degrees. Mr. Stamford -and his wife were calmly happy at the idea of returning to their -quiet home life, having had enough of the excitement of city and -suburb for a while. The girls were continually exclaiming, as each -new turn of the road brought them within sight of well-remembered -spots and familiar points of the landscape, while Hubert, much too -happy to talk, kept looking at his relatives, one by one, with an -air of intense, overflowing affection. - -“It’s worth all the loneliness to have you back again,” he said, -patting his mother’s cheek; “but it was horribly dismal for a time. -I felt as if I could have left the run in charge of the -boundary-riders, only for shame, and run down to Sydney myself. -Fortunately, Laura wrote so regularly that I seemed to know what you -were doing and saving, as well as almost everything you thought.” - -“I wrote too, I’m sure,” said Linda, with an injured air. - -“Well, you were more spasmodic. Though I was very glad to get your -letters too. I acquired a deal of information about the ‘Queen’s -Navee,’ in which department I was weak. However, I suppose it’s as -well to know everything.” - -“I’m sure you are most ungrateful,” pouted Linda, “If you only knew -how hard it is to write!” - -“Oh, ho! quoting from Lord Sandwich’s lines:— - - ‘To all you ladies now on land - We men at sea indite, - But first I’d have you understand - How hard it is to write.’” - -“You are too clever altogether, Hubert,” said Linda, with rather a -conscious laugh. “You must have been taking lessons in mind-reading, -or some such stuff, in our absence. But oh! there are some of the -Windāhgil sheep. How well they look! I’d almost forgotten there were -such dear creatures in the world.” - -“If it were not for them and their fleeces there would not be any -trips to Sydney, or bachelors’ balls, or picnics,” said Mr. -Stamford; “so keep up a proper respect for the merino interest, and -all belonging to it.” - -“They never looked better than they do now,” said Hubert; “the -season has been a trifle dry since you left, but I think they are -all the better for it. And did not the wool bring a capital price?” -he continued. “I see you sold it all in Sydney—two and a penny, and -two and threepence for the hogget bales. The wash-pen was paid for -over and over again. However, I have a plan in my head for getting -it up better still next year.” - -“That’s right, my boy,” said his father; “stick well to your -business and it will stick to you—a homely proverb, but full of -wisdom. How does the garden look?” - -“Not so bad. I had it made pretty decent for mother to look at. I -kept all the new plants watered—they’ve grown splendidly, and I -managed, with a little help, to get up a ‘bush house’ in case mother -brought up any new ferns, or _Coleus_ novelties.” - -“The very thing I am wishing for, my dear boy,” said his mother. “I -was just wondering how I could manage; I did get a few pot plants -and ferns.” - -“A few!” said Mr. Stamford, making believe to frown. “You showed a -correct estimate of your mother’s probable weakness, however, -Hubert. I don’t know that you could have spent your leisure time -more profitably.” - -“Home, sweet home!” sang Linda, as they drove up to the well-known -white gate. “How lovely the garden looks, and everything about the -dear old place is flourishing; even the turkeys have grown up since -we left. I feel as if I could go round and kiss everything—the very -posts of the verandah. That is the advantage of going away. I really -think it is one’s duty to do so; it makes you value your home so -when you come back.” - -“I shall have no curiosity about the great world for a year at -least,” said Laura. “It will take us nearly that time to read all -the new books; and to properly enjoy the garden, I am going to have -a fernery of my own. I bought the _Fern World_ out of my own money, -and somebody—I forget who it was—promised to send me some rare New -Zealand and South Sea Island ferns. After all, the pleasures of -country life are the best, I really do believe; they are so calm and -peaceful and yet satisfying.” - -That first meal, lunch or dinner, as it might happen to be, in the -old familiar room, was an unmixed delight to all. The two servants, -having just returned, had exerted themselves to prepare a somewhat -_recherché_ repast for the family, to whom they were attached, and -whose return they hailed with honest expressions of welcome. The -cookery and arrangements generally met with special commendation, -while in the intervals of talking, laughing, and sudden exclamations -of delight, Linda repeated her conviction that she had never enjoyed -eating and drinking so much since she left Windāhgil. - -Immediately after this necessary performance, Hubert and Mr. -Stamford betook themselves to one of the outlying portions of the -run, where the son was anxious for his father to behold the success -of a new dam lately constructed. This piece of engineering had -“thrown back” the water of a creek nearly two miles, thus affording -permanent sustenance for a large flock of sheep. - -“These weaners were formerly obliged to come in to the frontage, you -remember governor, where they were always mixing with the other -sheep. The water dried up regularly about this time. Now they can -stay here till next shearing, and I think the country suits them -better, too.” - -“They are looking uncommonly well,” said Mr. Stamford, running his -eye over a flock of fine, well-grown young sheep, which were just -moving out to grass after their noonday rest. “They ought to cut a -first-rate fleece this year.” - -“Yes; and the wool is so clean,” said Hubert. “There is nothing like -having your sheep within fences; no running about with dogs and -shepherds; they don’t get half the dust and sand into their fleeces. -But I’m afraid this is about the last improvement Windāhgil wants -doing to it. It’s getting too settled and finished. How I should -like to tackle a big, wild, half-stocked run in new country, with no -fencing done, and all the water to make!” - -“You must bide your time, my boy,” said Mr. Stamford, with a serious -face. “It will come some day—in another year or two, perhaps. You -mustn’t be in too great a hurry to leave us all. Windāhgil is not -such a bad place.” - -“On the contrary, it’s getting too good altogether. There’s only -half enough work, and next to no management required. Why, you could -do all the work yourself, governor, with a steady working overseer!” - -“Thank you, my boy, for the compliment,” said Mr. Stamford, taking -off his hat. - -“Oh, you know what I mean, father! so don’t pretend you don’t. I’m -not growing cheeky because things have gone well lately; but really -there’s only enough managing to keep you in exercise. It will half -break my heart to go away, but what’s the use of settling down on a -small comfortable place like this? And how can I feel that I’m doing -the best for the family, when I hear of fellows like Persse, and -Grantley, and Philipson taking up that new country beyond the Barcoo -by the thousand square miles; splendid downs covered with blue grass -and Mitchell grass? Grand water, too, when you come upon it. Think -what all that country will be worth in a few years.” - -“I understand you, my boy,” said the proud father, while a sudden -emotion stirred his heart, as he remembered the days of his own -youth, when he too had nourished the same high thoughts of adventure -and discovery, and had played his part amid the dangers and -privations of frontier life. “You can talk it over with Mr. Hope. -We’ll see what can be done.” - -“I suppose,” said Hubert, after a while, “when you’ve been up a week -or ten days, and I’ve talked over everything with mother and the -girls, from the regatta to the last new waltz step, I may as well -take my holiday. I haven’t had one for three years. I begin to -forget what the sea looks like, and I think a month in the ‘big -smoke’ and a few new ideas will do me no harm.” - -“Have your holiday, by all means, and enjoy it too, my boy. Thank -God, it is not a question of money now. I have the fullest belief in -the sanitary value, mentally, of a trip to the metropolis now and -then.” - -“Thank you, father. I’m sure it will brush me up a little; besides, -I want to go to the Lands Office for certain reasons. I want, above -all, to have a good talk with this Mr. Barrington Hope that I’ve -heard so much about.” - -“You’ll find him an uncommon sort of person. The more you see of -him, the more you’ll like him, I feel certain. He is just the man I -should like you to make a friend of. Try and get him to return with -you, if he can spare the time.” - -After the tea-things were cleared away, and the large, steadfast, -satisfactory table was left free for reading, writing, or -needlework—for all of which purposes it was equally well -adapted—what a season of rational enjoyment set in! The book box had -been opened before. The beautiful new uncut volumes, the titles of -which were received with exclamations of joy, were placed upon a -table. The collection of new music was inspected, Linda going there -and then to the piano and dashing off a waltz; making, besides, a -running commentary upon half-a-dozen songs which she and Laura were -going to learn directly there was a minute to spare. Mr. Stamford -took his accustomed chair, and devoted himself to the _Sydney -Morning Herald_. Mrs. Stamford resumed the needlework which is -apparently a species of Penelope’s web for all mothers of families, -while Hubert and Laura, somewhat apart from the rest, kneeling on -their chairs as if they had been children again, made a cursory -examination of the new books, exclaiming from time to time at -passages or illustrations. - -“I feel inclined not to go to Sydney till after I’ve read most of -these books,” said Hubert; “only that would make it so late. But it -seems a pity to leave such a lot of splendid reading. Certainly -there’s the Public Library in Sydney, but I hardly ever go in there, -because I find it so hard to get out again. I did stay there once -till the lamps were lit. I had gone in for a few minutes after -breakfast.” - -“What a queer idea!” said Laura, laughing outright. “How strange it -must have felt to have lost a whole day in Sydney. Never mind, -Hubert! There are a good many young men to whom it would not occur -to spend a whole day in a library, public or private. Everything in -moderation, though. You must have another station at your back -before you can read all day long.” - -“Please God, we’ll have that too,” replied he with a cheery smile, -“or else the new country will be taken up very fast. I don’t think -Windāhgil will see me after next shearing; that is if the governor -doesn’t forbid it.” - -“You don’t care about breaking our hearts, you naughty boy!” said -his sister, pressing her cheek against his, as they looked over the -same book. “What are we all to do when you are gone! You don’t think -how lonely and miserable the place will be.” - -“Are you going to stay here all your life, Laura? If you will, I -will. But don’t think I shall not feel the parting bitterly; I quite -tremble to think of it. How miserable I was when you were in Sydney! -But what is a man to do? A few years of self-denial and hard life -now will make things easy for the rest of our days. I am the working -head of the family now. Father is not the man he used to be. And if -I take life too easily for the next few years, all these great -opportunities will be gone, and we shall regret it all the rest of -our lives.” - -“But the risk!” sighed Laura; “the wild country, blacks, thirst, -fever and ague. Every paper brings news of some poor fellow losing -his life out there. What should we do if you were taken? Remember -how many lives you carry about with you.” - -“You set a great value on Hubert Stamford,” he said jokingly, while -something in his eyes showed a deeper feeling. “Other people -wouldn’t think any great loss had taken place if I dropped. But men -still go to sea, though wrecks occur. Think how nice it will be when -I return bronzed, and illustrious, a gallant explorer with a whole -country-side taken up for ‘Stamford and Son,’ with runs to keep and -to sell, and to give away if we like.” - -“I’m afraid you won’t be stopped; you are an obstinate boy, though -no one would think it. I think I shall take possession of the piano -and sing you that lovely ‘Volkslied,’ though I’m afraid my voice is -weak after the night journey.” - -Laura had taken a few lessons in Sydney, very wisely. Her naturally -sweet, pure voice and correct intonation were therefore much aided -by her later instruction. - -“You _have_ improved,” said her brother. “I never expected you to -turn out such a _prima donna_, though there is a tone in your voice -that always makes me wish to cry, as if that would be the height of -enjoyment. You brought up a duet for me, didn’t you? Well, we won’t -try it to-night. You’re rather tired, I can see. We’ll attack it -some morning after breakfast, when we’re fresh.” - -From this day forward, life flowed on with uninterrupted felicity -for the Windāhgil household. It was nearly a week before the -excitement passed away of enjoying all the treasures and novelties -brought from the metropolis. The weather even became favourable to -the new development of the garden, in which Mr. Stamford and his -wife were principally interested. Genial showers refreshed the -soil—always inclined to be thirsty in that region—so that Mrs. -Stamford’s ferns and flowers, and plants with parti-coloured leaves, -as well as her husband’s new varieties of vegetables, shrubs, and -fruit trees, all partook of the beneficence of the season. - -As for Hubert and his sisters, they rode and drove about by day -whenever the weather was favourable; indeed sometimes when it was -not. They read steadily at the new books by night, and by that -means, and a few visits to old friends in the neighbourhood, filled -up every spare moment in a mode of life each day of which was -consciously and unaffectedly happy. - -In addition to these quasi-pastoral occupations, one day brought the -exciting news that a new proprietor—indeed a new family—was about to -arrive in the district—now the owner of a sheep station distant from -Windāhgil about twenty miles had for some months, indeed since the -change of season, cherished hopes of selling out to advantage. - -An astute, unscrupulous speculator, he had purchased sheep largely, -at low prices, directly the weather broke, had crowded on to -Wantabalree all the stock it could hold—and more, had sent the rest -of his cheap purchase “on the road.” This means, in Australia, -travelling for grass to a distant undefined point in a neighbouring -colony whence at any time they could be ordered back; subsisting at -free quarters, on other men’s pastures till shearing. - -He then offered Wantabalree for sale, at the high market price of -the day, describing it as a magnificent pastoral property with a -stock of sheep of the highest quality and breeding; puffed up the -grass, the improvements, the homestead, the water supply, directly -and indirectly, and having done all this, awaited quietly the usual -victim provided with cash and deficient in experience. - -In Australia, as in other countries probably, it is a fact patent to -observers of human nature that the weak points of any particular -locality are rarely obtruded upon the incoming proprietor or tenant. -He is, in a general way, prone to spend money on a liberal scale for -the first two or three years. - -The interests of other proprietors are, in a way, identical. -Assuming that the newly-arrived purchaser has made an indifferent -bargain—that is, has misunderstood wholly the value of his -investment, or bought in total ignorance of the peculiar drawbacks -of the district, it is rarely that any one volunteers to enlighten -him. - -Such information, if unfavourable, might tend to depreciate the -value of property locally. It was none of their business. Every one -had enough to do to look after their own affairs. They might want to -sell out themselves some day. - -Besides, after all, the seasons might prove wet for years to come, -in which case a tide of general prosperity would set in, quite -sufficient to float Colonel Dacre’s as well as the other partially -stranded argosies of the period. - -This was the mode of reasoning which mostly obtained around -Mooramah—possibly not wholly unknown in other centres more or less -connected with financial operations. - -Even an experienced Australian pastoralist may be placed at -considerable disadvantage when he comes to inspect station property -in a region previously unknown to him. He may under-rate or -over-estimate the changes in pasture produced in varying seasons. He -may be wholly ignorant of probable or latent disease. Summer’s heat -or winter’s cold may surprise him by their diverse results. Such men -may make—have indeed made—the most astonishing mistakes in -purchasing stations in unfamiliar country. How much more so the -wholly inexperienced, newly-arrived buyer from Europe, or -Hindustan—ignorant of the very alphabet of pastoral science! He is -indeed delivered over as a prey. The net is, in a manner, spread for -him. Unless he be clearly warned, and indeed vigorously frightened -away from this all-tempting enclosure, he is very apt to be -enmeshed. After his entanglement—from which except by the blindest -chance he rarely emerges save with despoiled plumage and drooping -crest—he can hear from his too reticent neighbours doleful tales of -loss and distress, a portion of which information would have been -sufficient to deter him from (as he now believes) so suicidal an -investment. - -To do the Stamfords justice, they were not the sort of people likely -to stand by and see an injustice perpetrated without protest. -Colonel Dacre, on arriving in the district, had called at Windāhgil, -and informing Mr. Stamford that he felt disposed to buy Wantabalree, -which was then offered for sale with so many sheep, so much -purchased land, &c., had asked his opinion of the policy of the -purchase. - -Hubert and his father looked at one another for a moment. Then the -younger man burst out—“I think it’s a confounded shame that any -gentleman coming to a fresh district should be taken in, utterly -deceived in a purchase like this one of Wantabalree. It is known to -every child within fifty miles that the place is over-stocked by -nearly one-half. The reason the run looks so well is that a lot of -sheep that were travelling have just been put on. They haven’t had -time to eat down the grass yet. If a dry season comes they’ll die -like flies.” - -“You must be careful in making statements to Mr. Dealerson’s -prejudice,” said his father. “We are not on good terms with him. -That should be, perhaps, considered by Colonel Dacre. At the same -time, I endorse every word you have said.” - -“I know I hate the fellow like poison,” said Hubert. “He’s mean and -dishonest—and deserves to be had up for false representation to -boot; but I would say the same if he were my own brother. The sale -of Wantabalree with the stock at present on it, under the -advertisement of a fairly-stocked run, is a deception and a robbery. -I give Colonel Dacre leave to repeat my words to Mr. Dealerson or -his friends.” - -“I gather from what you say,” said the Colonel; “that the stock upon -Wantabalree is in excess of what it would be safe to depasture in -ordinary seasons; that the buyer would probably, in the event of an -unfavourable season, be at a disadvantage—--” - -“Such a disadvantage that he would lose twenty or thirty thousand -sheep to begin with,” replied Hubert; “and even under the most -favourable circumstances the place could never carry its present -stock.” - -“Yet the sheep look very well—are indeed fit for market—as I am -informed by the person the agents recommended me to consult.” - -“This is the finest season we have had for five years. It is the -best time of year also,” said Hubert. “Any run about here would -carry double its ordinary stock for a few months—till winter, for -instance. If a third more sheep were put on now, say on to this run, -neither sheep nor run would exhibit much difference until the autumn -was well over.” - -“And what would happen then?” asked the Colonel. - -“Then they would merely begin to starve—become weak and die—thousand -after thousand, while all the survivors would be impoverished and -lessened in value.” - -“Good Heavens!” said the astonished soldier. “I never imagined such -deceit could be practised in a pastoral community. It amounts to -obtaining money under false pretences!” - -“Not legally,” said Mr. Stamford; “but every word which my son has -told you is substantially true. Wantabalree with its present stock -is nothing better than a trap skilfully set to catch the unwary -purchaser. Mr. Dealerson is, so to speak, an enemy of ours, but I -will do Hubert the justice to say that a friend acting similarly -would have fared no better at his hands.” - -“Well! forewarned is forearmed,” said the colonel. “I feel deeply -indebted to you, but your conduct has been in marked contrast to -that of all the other residents to whom I have spoken on the -subject.” - -“Unfortunately, there is too much caution or apathy in matters of -this sort,” said Mr. Stamford. “We should have been delighted to -have you as a neighbour, believe me, but not at such cost to -yourself.” - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - -About a week after this conversation Hubert dropped the local paper -he was reading in the evening with such a sudden exclamation that -his mother and sisters looked up in mild astonishment. - -“‘Well I’m gormed!’ as Dan Peggotty has it!” he said at length. -“Nothing will ever surprise me again as long as there is such a crop -of fools in the world—no wonder that rogues like Dealerson flourish! -After all I said too! Listen to this! headed ‘Important Sale of -Station.—We have much pleasure in noticing that our energetic and -popular neighbour, Mr. Dealerson, has completed the sale of his -well-known station, Wantabalree, with fifty-four thousand six -hundred sheep of a superior character, to Colonel Dacre, a gentleman -lately arrived from England. Furniture, stores, station, horses and -cattle given in. The price is said to be satisfactory.’ Well, the -devil helps some people,” said Hubert. “How that poor gentleman -could have run into the snare blindfold after the talking to father -and I gave him, I can’t make out. Mark my words; he’s a dead man -(financially) unless it’s going to rain for years.” - -“Dealerson is a very astute man,” remarked Mr. Stamford, musingly. -“As a persuasive talker he has few equals. Fine, frank, engaging -manner too. Bold and ready-witted; I think I can see how he managed -it.” - -“Well I can’t see—can’t make it out at all,” said Hubert, “unless he -is a mesmerist.” - -“No doubt he made the most of being on bad terms with Windāhgil. He -would rake up that old story of the disputed sheep; tell it his own -way; get that fellow Ospreigh, who always goes about with him, to -back him up; also make small concessions such as furniture and -working plant; talk about the house and garden—they would be -attractive to a new arrival; and if Colonel Dacre is at all -impulsive—and I think he is—he has thus landed him. I wonder what -the Colonel will think of Dealerson about three years from this -time?” - -“I’ll tell him what _I_ think of him, the next time we meet in -public,” said Hubert, squaring his shoulders, while a dangerous -light came into his eyes. “If he could be tempted into giving me the -lie, I should like to have the pleasure of thrashing him.” - -“Gently, my boy!” said Mr. Stamford; “we must not set up ourselves -as the redressers of wrongs for Lower Mooramah, Few people are in a -position to discharge the duties of that appointment. I honour your -righteous indignation all the same, and trust you will always retain -an honest scorn of wrong and wrongdoers.” - -“I should hope so,” said Laura. “I can’t imagine Hubert holding his -tongue discreetly or passing by on the other side. There are a good -many Levites in this part of the world, I am afraid.” - -“Oh, my gracious!” said Linda, who was reading a closely-written -letter; “think of this! Isn’t his name Colonel John Dacre, late of -the 75th Regiment? There is one redeeming feature about the affair, -at all events.” - -“What can that be?” said Laura and Hubert both together. - -“Why! there’s a distressed damsel in the case. If I didn’t know -better, I should think Hubert must have heard about her. Listen to -this!” And she read aloud:—“‘I hear that you are to have delightful -neighbours. I was told that Colonel Dacre was going to settle in -your neighbourhood. He has bought Wantabalree station—young Groves -told me last night. He is a widower, handsome and middle-aged. But I -don’t mean him. He has an only daughter, also a son. Think of that! -Jane Robinson met her at Mrs. Preston’s, where she is staying. She -says she is most sweet—handsome, though not objectionable in the -beauty-girl line, clever, sensible, distinguished-looking, &c. Take -care of Hubert, if you don’t want to lose him for good and all.’ -That’s from Nellie Conway. Oh! isn’t that lovely?” and here Linda -held the letter aloft, and danced for joy. - -“I don’t see what difference it makes,” said Hubert, gloomily, -“except that there are three people to be ruined instead of one. You -girls are always thinking of marriage and giving in marriage.” - -“Now don’t be provoking, Hubert,” said Laura, coaxingly; “we know -somebody who is not always thinking about cattle and sheep. Now, -listen to me. How long will it take for Mr. Dealerson to ruin them?” - -“About three years,” said Hubert; “depends on the terms. Of course -he’s got all the Colonel’s cash, but he would take long-dated bills -rather than let him slip. Say three—three and a half—that’s the very -outside month.” - -“That means that we are to have the society and companionship of the -very nice girl for three or four years,” said Laura; “we can ask her -here for the last six months, you know, I really think, Hubert, it -won’t turn out such a bad investment for the Colonel after all.” - -“You’d better marry him out of pity,” said Hubert; “get father to -endorse his bills, and that will effectually finish up the Stamford -family as well—stock, lock, and barrel.” - -“I’ll complete the tragedy by marrying Mr. Dealerson,” said Linda, -“whom I shall afterwards poison, then come on to the stage and -repent in white satin in my last agonies, having by mistake taken -some out of the same glass. What a charming melodrama! Who says -there are no Australian romances possible in real life?” - -“No; but nonsense apart,” said Laura, “I intend to make a friend of -Miss Dacre; she will be rather lonely. There are no decent people -within twenty miles of Wantabalree. You must drive us over to call -directly we hear that they have arrived at the station. It is a -pleasant house, and the garden is lovely, to give Mr. Dealerson his -due.” - -“You girls generally manage to persuade everybody to do as you -like,” said Hubert, making believe to be sulky still, but putting -his arm round Laura’s waist. “It’s a pity you didn’t tackle the -Colonel about not buying the beastly place, instead of father and -me. He’d have dropped it like a shot most likely.” - -“Don’t you worry yourself any more about it,” said Linda. “You have -been ‘faithful’ to the Colonel—as Mrs. Christianson always says—and -done the honest and disagreeable. Now let it rest.” - -“You’re bordering on a Levite,” retorted her brother. “However, it -was always the fashionable side.” - -About a fortnight after the return of the family party, when most of -the books had been read, when all the songs had been sung, when -every conceivable incident that had happened in Sydney had been -described and dilated on, after every new phase of intellectual -growth in the three young minds had been stated and reviewed, Hubert -Stamford relinquished his charge of Windāhgil, and departed for the -metropolis on his long-expected holiday. Not without tears shed by -his female relatives did he leave Windāhgil, that true and sacred -home in every sense of the word—a family abiding place consecrated -by fervent, unselfish love, which had grown and deepened since -childhood’s hour with every opening year. How could they think -without a sudden pang of the possibility of an accident—of one of -the everyday mischances in this age of rushing, resistless forces -harnessed to the car of man’s feverish need—depriving them for ever -of the sight of that pleasant face, those frank, kind eyes, that -manly form! Such might happen—_had_ happened. Therefore, there were -averted heads, fast falling tears, as the signal sounded, and the -punctual, pitiless steam-giant bore away the hope of Windāhgil from -the little platform at Mooramah. - -“Poor, dear Hubert!” said Linda, sneezing violently, and then wiping -her eyes; “it seems ridiculous to cry, when he’s going away to enjoy -himself so much, and deserves it so well; but, somehow, one can’t -help it. There is a great relief in tears. I think they are -specially adapted to the feminine temperament, a nice, comforting -sort of protest against circumstances. Dear me! how lonely we shall -be to-night.” - -“I really believe father was afraid he would ‘give way’ too, as -Nurse Allen used to say,” said Laura, “and that was the reason he -declined to come. Never mind; we shall have a telegram to-morrow. He -must have been much more lonely when we departed. Fancy you or me at -home, Linda, and all the rest of the family away!” - -When Hubert Stamford had got over the first feeling of parting with -those whom he loved better than his own life, the change of place -and scene which the fast-speeding mail train rapidly furnished -commenced to raise his youthful spirits. After all, _ce n’est que le -premier pas qui coûte_. Ah, but that first step! Some people never -can accomplish it, for things good as well as evil, and a whole -world of delights and dangers remain unexplored. - -In Hubert Stamford’s case the initiatory stage was now accomplished. -The journey, more or less eventful to home-keeping youths—the first -really accredited visit to the metropolis since his manhood, with -all things made easy for him, was now about to take place. -Imagination commenced to conjure up the various wonders and -witcheries which he was about to encounter, as well as the campaign -of business which he hoped to plan out and engineer definitely, if -not finally. - -Much revolving these pleasing and, in a sense, profitable thoughts, -the night became reasonably far advanced. It then occurred to him -that, as he intended to have a long day before him in Sydney, he -might as well prepare for it by an orthodox allowance of sleep; so, -commending himself and those never-forgotten idols of his heart to -the mercy of the All-wise, All-seeing Father of this wondrous world, -he wrapped himself in his rug and fell asleep. - -When he awoke the train was speeding down the long incline which -divides the mountain world of rock and dell-rifted peak and alpine -summit, from the lowlands of the Nepean River. A few more -miles—another hour. Farms and home-steadings, orangeries and -orchards, vineyards and cornfields, alternated with wide pastures, -dank with river fogs and morning dew, darksome jungles of eucalyptus -which the axe of the woodman had as yet spared. Yet another -terminus, suburbs, smoke, a distant view of the great sea, a turmoil -of railway sheds, carriages, tramcars, and cabs—Sydney! - - * * * * * - -Comfortably established at Batty’s Hotel, to the management of which -he had taken the trouble to telegraph for a room, and received with -that pleasing welcome accorded to the guest who is known to spend -liberally and pay promptly, Hubert found the situation, as he -surveyed the harbour from the balcony with after-breakfast feelings, -to be one of measureless content mingled with sanguine anticipation. - -Oh! precious spring-time of life! Blest reflex of the golden days of -Arcady. What might we not have done with thy celestial hours, strewn -with diamonds and rubies more precious than the fabled valley of the -Arabian voyager, had we but have divined their value. For how much -is it now too late? The scythe-bearer, slow, passionless, pitiless, -has passed on. The irrevocable winged hours have fled. Opportunity, -fleet nymph with haunting eyes and shining hair, has disappeared in -the recesses of the charmed forest, and we, gazing hopelessly on the -shore of life’s ocean, hear from afar the hollow murmur of the -maelstrom of Fate—the rhythmic cadence of the tideless waves of -eternity. - -Hubert Stamford, more fortunate, had all the world before him; -moreover, nothing to do but elect, with the aid of a sufficiency of -cash, leisure and introductions, to what particular pleasures he -should devote the cheerful day. He revolved in his mind several -kinds of entertainments of which he would like to partake, but -finally resolved to present himself at the office of the Austral -Agency Company, having a great desire to see the wonderful -Barrington Hope, of whom he had heard so much, as also to sound him -as to a Queensland stock speculation. He would leave a card for Mr. -Grandison at his club. If no engagement turned up he would take a -steamer to Manly Beach, and afterwards go to the theatre. - -Having mapped out the day to his satisfaction, Hubert betook himself -to the Austral Agency Company’s offices, by the splendour of which -he was much struck, and sent in his card. - -He was not suffered to remain long in the outer office, but was -promptly ushered into the manager’s room and confronted with the -head of the department in person. Doubtless it was a mutual -pleasure. Hubert was impressed with the autocrat’s appearance, the -manner, as well as the reserve of power which in every word and -gesture Barrington Hope displayed. The latter, on the other hand, -did full justice to the bold, sincere countenance, the manly, -muscular figure of his young visitor. Reading between the lines, he -saw there written quenchless energy and love of adventure, yet -shrewd forecast. - -“This youngster is not like other men,” Mr. Hope said to himself, -after the first direct, searching gaze. “He only wants opportunity, -encouragement, and the backing-up of capital to become a successful -speculator. He has enterprise, undying pluck, persistent energy, and -still sufficient apprehensiveness to shield him from disaster. We -must send him along. He will do well for himself and the company. -His complexion and features are different—but how like he is to his -sister!” - -Much of this he may have thought, but merely said, “Mr. Hubert -Stamford, I am sincerely glad to make your acquaintance. Having had -the pleasure of knowing your family, I was really anxious to meet -you. I venture to predict that we shall become friends and allies. I -trust you left all well at Windāhgil, and that the season continues -favourable.” - -“Perfectly well, thank you,” said Hubert. “My father desired to be -particularly remembered to you. My sisters have not yet left off -describing their pleasant visit to Sydney. The season is a trifle -dry, but otherwise everything that can be desired.” - -“Thanks very much! Tell your sisters when you write that a great -melancholy fell upon me when they left. We had been so much together -in town, fortunately for me.” - -“I have been waiting for an opportunity to thank you for the -assistance you gave us at a very critical time,” said Hubert. “My -father has, I daresay, told you all we thought about it. But I -always determined to speak for myself on the subject.” - -“It was a speculation, a purely business risk, which I undertook,” -replied Mr. Hope. “I told your father so at the time. That it has -resulted so favourably, is of course, most satisfactory.” - -“I see your point. All the same, it was more than fortunate for us, -and for Windāhgil, that you happened to take that precise commercial -risk at that particular time. It is, besides, more agreeable to work -financially with some people than others. And now, will you come and -lunch with me, so that we may have a talk?” - -“I am really sorry,” said Mr. Hope, looking at his watch, “but shall -not have five minutes to spare till five o’clock, when I should like -to consult you on a business matter. If, afterwards, you will dine -with me at the club, at seven sharp, I will talk as much as you -like.” - -“That will do as well, indeed better,” said Hubert, “as the day will -be over, which is a great advantage if one is to enjoy oneself. I -have a call or two to make, so adieu for the present!” Making a -direct point for the club which Mr. Grandison ornamented, Hubert was -fortunate in discovering that gentleman just emerging from the -strangers’ room with an elderly gentleman, whom Hubert recognised as -Colonel Dacre. - -“How are you, Hubert, my boy?” said Grandison. “What a man you’ve -grown! Nothing like bush air. Father quite well? Mother and the -girls? Glad to hear it. Let me introduce you to Colonel Dacre, soon -to be a neighbour of yours at Wantabalree.” - -“I’m very sorry for it,” blurted out Hubert. “That is, in one sense, -as I told Colonel Dacre before. I said then, and think now, that he -made a bad bargain. That apart, I am, of course, delighted to hear -that he is coming with his family to live so near us.” - -“Oh! indeed; I didn’t know you had met before.” - -The Colonel bowed, and looking slightly embarrassed, for a veteran, -before so youthful a soldier as Hubert, said, “I ought to thank Mr. -Stamford and his father for their sincere and kindly advice about my -purchase. I did not take it wholly, and indeed acted on my own -judgment and that of other friends in buying Wantabalree. But I -shall always feel grateful for their well-meant counsel.” - -“Why, how is this, Hubert?” said Mr. Grandison with an important -air. “You seem to have been very decided on the subject. My friend -Barterdale, under whose financial advice Colonel Dacre acted, says -he is credibly informed that it is a most paying purchase. And -Dealerson says it is the best bargain of the day.” - -“For _him_, no doubt; but Dealerson is a liar and a rogue,” said -Hubert, bluntly. “I will tell him so to his face, if ever I meet -him. As for Mr. Barterdale, he keeps Dealerson’s account, and -perhaps may not wish to offend a good customer. The Colonel has been -deceived and robbed, that’s all! And having said enough, perhaps -more than is polite, I shall not speak another word about the -affair, except to assure Colonel Dacre that all Windāhgil is at his -service in the way of neighbourly assistance.” - -“Thanks very much!” said the Colonel, looking rather crestfallen; -“but have you heard” Hubert felt quite ashamed of his savage -sentence as he remarked the old gentleman’s humility of tone—“the -price I have sold the fat sheep at?” - -“No,” replied Hubert, “I can’t say that I have; but, assuming that -the wool does as well you are still in a dangerous position, with an -overcrowded run. However, I sincerely trust that it may be -otherwise.” - -“And so do I,” said Mr. Grandison; “but you’ve done your duty, my -boy, and Providence must do the rest. Colonel Dacre is coming to -lunch with me. Here’s the phaeton, jump in and you will see Mrs. -Grandison and Josie, besides another young lady that you haven’t -before met.” - -“I asked Mr. Hope to lunch,” said Hubert; “but as he can’t come I am -free. And so, if Colonel Dacre isn’t offended by my plain speaking, -I shall be most happy.” - -At luncheon Mrs. Grandison appeared with the fair Josie, who -welcomed Hubert so warmly that he began to think that he was -mistaken in the opinion he had previously formed of both these -ladies. Certainly, in his boyhood, they had expressed remarkably -little interest in his welfare. But being slow to think evil, he -took himself severely to task, and decided that Mrs. Grandison was a -warm-hearted matron, and Josie a very attractive-looking girl. - -At that moment a young lady entered the room and apologised to Mrs. -Grandison in so sweet a voice, and with so much natural grace of -manner, for being late that his too susceptible heart was -immediately led captive. Miss Josie’s charms receded to a register -below zero, where they remained as unalterably fixed as the “set -fair” in an aneroid barometer in a drought. - -“Allow me to introduce our cousin, Mr. Hubert Stamford,” said the -elder lady; “Miss Dacre, I think you are to be neighbours in the -bush.” - -“I am happy to meet Mr. Stamford,” said the young lady, bestowing a -gaze on Hubert so honest, kindly, and yet questioning, that his -subjection was complete. “Though, from what papa tells me, it is not -his fault that we are not in some other district.” - -“I was acting against my own interest—against all our interests,” -Hubert said, rather nervously. “Believe me that the whole family -were most anxious to have you as neighbours. So you must give me -credit for honesty of intention.” - -“I shall never doubt that, from all I hear,” said Miss Dacre. “Papa -is rather sanguine, I am afraid.” - -“And perhaps I am not sufficiently so,” said Hubert; “It’s all over -now. Let us find a pleasanter subject. When do you think of going -up?” - -“Oh! next week at farthest. Are we not, papa?” - -The Colonel nodded. “I’m enthusiastically fond of the country. I -hear there’s such a nice cottage, quite a pretty garden, a flowing -stream, a mountain, cows and pigs, and chickens, a fair library—in -fact, almost an English home. You’ll admit that, I hope, Mr. -Stamford?” - -“I’ll admit anything,” said Hubert; “the homestead’s the best in the -district. My mother and sisters will be charmed to put you _au fait_ -in all matters of bush housekeeping. And now, Josie, are you going -to the opera on Thursday night, and would you like a cavalier?” - -“We were thinking of it,” said she. “Mother was doubtful, and father -doesn’t care about opera. If you can get some one else, I have no -doubt Mrs. Stopford would be glad to act as chaperon, and Miss Dacre -and I would go—if she would like it?” - -“Oh! above all things,” said that young lady; “I am always ready to -hear opera. And I hear you have a very good company here. I was -stupid enough, when I left England, to think I should never hear -Italian opera again. I feel ashamed.” - -“We are not quite barbarians, nor yet copper-coloured,” said Josie; -“though I am afraid we Sydney girls can’t boast of our complexions.” - -“I am quite ready to make recantation of all my errors,” said Miss -Dacre. “I suppose it need not be done publicly, in a white sheet. I -am divided between that and writing to the _Times_.” - -“I believe you will make the best bush-woman possible,” said the -Colonel, with an admiring glance. “Only we both have so much to -unlearn. I didn’t expect to see a room like this, for instance, or -such appointments,” he continued, raising a glass of claret -pensively to his lips. - -“It’s rather a bad thing for us, pappy, as we have to live in the -real bush, don’t you think? We must forget it all as soon as -possible.” - -“It won’t make the least difference to you, my dear,” said Mrs. -Grandison. “If you had seen Hubert’s sisters here you would have -been—well—astonished to see such girls come out of the bush. For -some reasons I begin really to think it would be better for all of -us to live there.” Here she glanced reflectively at Josie, who -looked scarcely as self-possessed as usual. - -“I shall not say another word about bush matters,” said Hubert. -“They will keep. When Miss Dacre comes up she will judge for -herself. If my opinion is requested, I shall be happy to give it, -but shall not volunteer advice. Will your brother travel up with -you, Miss Dacre?” - -“Willoughby went to stay a few days with a ship friend, who lives -near Penrith, I think it is, but he is quite as enthusiastic as I am -about beginning life in earnest. He will be in town again on -Friday.” - -“Come and dine with us on Saturday, then, Hubert,” said Mrs. -Grandison, and I’ll ask Mr. Hope and one or two of your rude bush -pioneers. Josie, can’t you get a couple of young ladies for Hubert’s -benefit and to show Mr. Dacre?” - -“I don’t think Hubert wants any more young ladies,” said Josie -mischievously; “but I’ll ask the Flemington girls to come in—one of -them plays marvellously and the other sings. Her voice is very like -Parepa’s.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - -The dinner was a success, the party to the opera having gone off -without a drawback to the unbroken joyousness of the affair. The -Misses Flemington came and performed such musical feats as were -expected of them, and Miss Dacre admitted that she had not heard a -voice unprofessional for years to equal May Flemington’s. She -wondered, indeed, what she could have been thinking of to imagine -that when she came to Australia all artistic luxuries were to be -banished from her thoughts. - -“The fact is,” she said, “we are frightfully narrow and prejudiced -in England. We know a great deal about France, Germany and the -Continent generally, because we are always running backwards and -forwards. But of our own countrymen in Australia and New Zealand we -know next to nothing. I was going to say as little as about -Timbuctoo, but we do really know something about Africa, because the -missionaries tell us, and we have returned evangelists from -Borioboolah Gha, even from Fiji and New Zealand. But of Australia we -know nothing.” - -“When you go home again, Miss Dacre,” said Hubert, “you will be able -to do battle for us, I see. We must make you Agent-General, or -Ambassadress, if any such post is vacant. I am sure you will do us -justice.” - -“Indeed I shall, but I feel ashamed of the ludicrous notions which I -brought out with me. No one would think of going down to Yorkshire -and saying, ‘I suppose you have nothing newer in songs than “The -days when we went gipsying,”’ or asking the Edinburgh people if they -had ever seen a bicycle. But really men and women who have had -‘advantages,’ as they are called, do come out here (five weeks from -England) and expect to see you living a sort of Fenimore Cooper -life, cutting down trees, ‘trailing’ your enemies, and sleeping in -wigwams or huts only once removed.” - -“Perhaps a portion of this is natural enough,” said Hubert, “we are -a long way from town.” - -“No, it is not natural,” said Miss Dacre; “because have not so many -of our friends come out for generations past? And then for us to -think that their sons and daughters were to grow up as clods and -_belles sauvages_!” - -“It will all come right in time,” said Hubert. “It doesn’t hurt us, -if it pleases them, always excepting people”—here he bowed—“whom we -don’t want to have wrong impressions about us. Wait till you get -fairly settled at Wantabalree, Miss Dacre, and you’ll lose a few -more illusions.” - -“Oh! but I don’t want to lose all of them,” replied the young lady. -“Some of them are so nice, that I want to retain them in full -freshness. I am going to keep pigs and poultry and send wonderful -hams to England to show our people what we can do. I am going to be -a great walker, and write letters about my impressions to the -magazines. I am sure they will do good. Then I shall have a good -collection of books, and grow quite learned, besides making myself -acquainted with all the people round about, and doing good among the -poor. I am certain there is a great field for an energetic person -like myself.” - -“True!” replied Hubert reflectively. “Australians are rarely -energetic, and your programme is excellent. I fully agree with all -your plans and ideas, but I am only afraid there may be difficulties -in the way of carrying them out.” - -“You really are most disappointing people—you colonists.” Here -Hubert held up his finger warningly. - -“Oh! I forgot. I am not to call you colonists, but to talk to you as -if you were like everybody else—is not that so? Well—but you _do_ -disappoint me. There is an air of guarded toleration, or mild -disapproval, which I observe among all of you when I begin to talk -of carrying out reforms. You are very polite, I admit; but tell me -now, why should I not? Surely one does not come all this way to do -only what everyone else does!” - -Josie laughed. Hubert looked sympathetic, but did not offer an -explanation. Then Mrs. Grandison took up the running. “My dear, you -are quite right in wishing to do everything in your power in the way -of good; it is what every girl ought to strive after. It would keep -them out of mischief, and so on. But where you English people—when -you first come out, not afterwards—differ a little from us is that -you are all going to set us benighted colonists right, and to -improve us in a great many ways. You say, “I only want to do my -duty—just as one would do in England,” but the idea is that you can -improve things ever so much.” - -“Well, perhaps there may be a feeling that a good deal appears to be -left undone; but the intention is to do our duty in that state of -life, &c.” - -“Quite true,” assented Mrs. Grandison; “but remember what you said, -that so many of the best people of the old country had come out -here. May not they and their children have worked to some purpose, -with results like the Miss Flemington’s music and singing?” - -“Well, that does seem probable, but a great deal remains undone; you -must admit that, surely?” - -“I am afraid many of us are not up to the mark in our duties, but -the same kind of persons would perhaps have done no better in an -English county. But I could show you people who pass their lives in -doing good—who hardly do anything else, in fact.” - -“And for what is not done,” said Hubert, who had been regarding Mrs. -Grandison’s defence of Australian institutions with a slightly -surprised air, “there is commonly some reason, though not visible to -a newly arrived young lady like yourself.” - -“Thank you, Mr. Stamford. But why did you not call me a ‘new chum’ -while you were about it? I know you all look down on us.” - -“We do not call ladies ‘new chums,’” said Hubert gravely, bowing -slightly at the same time. “And I really must decline any more -passages of arms about my native land. I hope you will like it, and -us too on further acquaintance. I will hand you over to my sisters, -who will argue the point with you at any length, and if you can -inoculate each other with your different opinions, it will be -mutually advantageous.” With which diplomatic recommendation Mr. -Hubert Stamford looked at his watch and bowed himself out. “I -mustn’t be late for this appointment with Barrington Hope,” he told -himself. “It is important enough, and though I could sit and argue -with that nice, fresh, enthusiastic Miss Dacre all day, yet -‘business is business.’” - -From which latter proverb, it may be inferred that Mr. Stamford, -junior, although by no means averse to the proper and gallant -attendance upon ladies which every man of his age should hold to be -a part of his knightly devoir, was yet in the main a practical -youth, likely in the long run to win his spurs in the modern tourney -of pastoral commerce. - -After thinking over the points of the coming conference, he -signalled to a hansom cabby, and was taken up by that modern -benefactor of the late, the imprudent, and the unlucky, and whirled -swiftly to the offices of the Austral Agency Company. Here Mr. Hope -had arranged to meet a Mr. Delamere, who was anxious to acquire a -pastoral property in the new country, Queensland, just opened and in -every man’s mouth. This gentleman had but lately arrived from -England. In a kind of way he was consigned to the company by one of -the English directors, who happened to be his uncle. - -Mr. Delamere, senior, had known the colonies in former years, and -being fully aware that high hope and lofty purpose, even when -combined with an available capital, do not altogether make up for -total inexperience of all Australian pastoral matters, had besought -the manager of the Melbourne branch of the Austral Agency Company to -advise the cadet of his house. - - -“I am aware, my dear Thornton,” he wrote, “that in a general way it -is thought better that a newly arrived young gentleman should work -out his own destiny in Australia—that after repeated falls and -losses he learns to run alone, and may be trusted henceforth to move -more circumspectly than if he had been ‘shepherded’ from the first. -But I dissent from this theory. The falls are often serious; after -some losses there is nothing left. I prefer a partner, such a one as -I had myself thirty years ago if possible. There ought to be a few -well-bred youngsters knocking about who know everything that can be -known about stations and stock but are held back for want of -capital. Such a one could supply the experience, while Frank -Delamere would find the capital. The old joke used to be that in two -or three years the new arrival had acquired all the experience and -the colonist all the cash. This reads smartly, but is false enough, -like many _bons mots_ both in the Old World and the New. Where was -there ever a better man than my old overseer, Jock Maxwell, -afterwards partner, and now deservedly pastoral magnate? He could -work twice as hard as I ever did; he knew station life _ab ovo_. He -was honest to a fault. He—but I always prose when I get on this -topic. It is enough to say that I had sufficient sense to form this -estimate of his character and act upon it, ‘whereby,’ as Captain -Cuttle has it, I am now writing from Greyland Manor, near -Glastonbury Thorn, instead of being a white slave in a counting -house, or the half-pay pauper generally known as a retired military -officer. - -“Therefore—a convenient, if illogical expression—I charge you to -procure a good steady ‘pardner’ for Frank, who will see that his ten -thousand, perhaps more, if need be, is not wasted or pillaged before -he cuts his wisdom teeth as a bushman. Draw at sight, when -investments are made with your consent.—Yours ever sincerely, - - “ROBERT DELAMERE.” - - -#/ - -This was the business on which the three men met on this day at the -Austral Agency Company’s office. Before this momentous interview a -certain amount of preliminary work had been done. Letters and -‘wires’ had circulated freely between Windāhgil, Sydney and -Melbourne, from which city the newly-fledged intending purchaser had -recently been summoned. Permission had been reluctantly granted by -Mr. Stamford, who foresaw years of separation from the son and heir, -who had never cost him an anxious moment as to his conduct. The -affair was tearfully discussed by Mrs. Stamford and the girls, who -thought life would no longer be worth living at Windāhgil when -Hubert’s merry voice and unfailing good spirits were withdrawn. - -“Why do people want to change and alter things—to go away and bring -sorrow and misery and destruction—no, I mean desolation—on those -they love?” demanded Linda. “And we are all so happy here! It seems -cruel of Hubert to take it into his head to go to Queensland—all -among blacks, and fever, and sunstroke, and everything.” Here she -got to the end of her list of probable disasters, and though -sensible that her climax was not effective, was fain to conclude, -“Don’t you think it’s too bad, mother?” - -“We shall feel dear Hubert’s absence deeply, bitterly, I grant,” -said the fond mother; “but he is animated by the very natural desire -of all high-spirited young men to improve the fortunes of the -family, and to distinguish himself in a career which is open to -all.” - -“But the danger, mother!” said Laura, in a low voice; “you remember -poor young Talbot, whom the blacks killed last month, and Mr. -Haldane, who died of fever. Suppose—oh! suppose—--” - -“Suppose the house fell down and killed, us all,” said Mr. Stamford, -rather testily, for the purpose of hiding his own inward disquiet, -which, though not expressed, was as deeply felt as that of his wife -and daughters. “It’s no use talking in that way, as if a young man -had never gone out into the world before. Boys go to sea and into -the army every day of the year. People must make up their minds to -it. It is a grand opportunity, Mr. Hope says, and may not occur -again.” - -“I shall hate Mr. Hope,” said Linda, “if he has induced Hubert to go -into this speculation along with some one no one knows, into a -country which half the people, it seems to me, never come back from. -But I suppose those mercantile men don’t care.” - -“You mustn’t be unjust, Linda,” interposed Laura. “Whatever Mr. Hope -has done has been in Hubert’s interest, we may feel sure. He has -always been most friendly to the family. And you must remember that -Hubert has been lately always pining to go to Queensland, and -talking about wasting his life here in this old settled district.” - -“What’s the use of being miserable if you can’t be unjust to some -one?” retorted Linda. “If you felt as deeply as I do, Laura, you -wouldn’t talk in that cold-blooded way. I can see the whole thing. -Mr. Hope and his company are anxious to establish a great station -property out in Queensland, or Kimberley, or King George’s Sound, or -wherever it is, and they have pitched upon poor Hubert as a likely -victim for the sacrifice. That’s the whole thing! They’re regular -Molochs, and Mr. Hope is the officiating High Priest—nothing else. I -wonder how he’d look with a garland of oak leaves, like the Druid in -_Norma_?” Here Linda’s feelings, brought to a climax by a smile -which she detected on Laura’s countenance at her _mélange_ of -metaphors, became too much for her, and pressing her handkerchief to -her eyes, she retreated to her bedroom. - -All the high contracting parties having sent in unqualified assent, -it but remained for Mr. Hope to introduce the young men to each -other—the representatives of the Parent Land and that Greater -Britain which has now in the South and West attained such vast -proportions; also to reduce to writing the terms of an agreement by -which the two men bound themselves to work together for their joint -benefit as graziers, explorers, stock and station proprietors for -the fixed term of five years. - -Mr. Delamere was to place to the credit of the new firm of Delamere -and Stamford the sum of ten thousand pounds, which would be amply -sufficient for the purchase of stock, the taking up, or even -securing at second-hand, the requisite areas of Crown lands in new -or partially settled country. - -Hubert Stamford, on the other hand, “did agree and contract to -personally manage and conduct the details of the joint concern—to -superintend the management of stock, the hiring of station hands, -the purchase of stores, and whatever work, either of exploration, -travel, or management, might be found necessary, for which he was, -in consideration of such personal knowledge and experience of the -management of stock and stations by him acquired, to be placed and -held to be the possessor of one-third share of the said property and -of the profits of said stock and stations.” - -These provisions and declarations were embodied in an agreement, -which was drawn up by the company’s solicitor and submitted by him -to Mr. Worthington for inspection and approval. - -That gentleman, as instructed, wrote to Mr. Stamford, senior, who, -it would appear, made some subsequent communication to him, inasmuch -as Mr Hope received a letter signed Worthington, Wardell and Co., -which briefly but clearly stated that his friend and client, Mr. -Stamford, of Windāhgil, approved generally of the terms of the -agreement entered into by his son and Mr. Delamere, and that he was -quite willing that he should enter into such an arrangement, and -that Mr. Hope, of the Austral Agency Company, had his full -confidence and trust. But that he desired his son to place a -proportionate sum of ready money to the credit of the firm, and not -to enter it wholly upon the outlay of another. And therefore that he -had placed in Mr. Worthington’s hands securities to the value of -five thousand pounds, which sum they were ready to pay over on Mr. -Hope’s order to that effect. - -Upon the receipt of this letter, Mr. Hope at once proposed that the -share of the profits to which Mr. Hubert Stamford was entitled under -the agreement should be altered to one half, inasmuch as his -superior knowledge and experience would be in value to the interest -of the other moiety of the ten thousand pounds to be advanced by Mr. -Delamere, and would thus equalise matters. This was at once agreed -to, on the part of Mr. Delamere and the Melbourne manager of the -company acting in his interests, upon which the agreement was -“signed, sealed, and delivered.” - -Nothing now remained but for Hubert to pay a farewell visit to -Windāhgil, for the purpose of settling up what personal business he -might have, to take leave of the family, and then to journey into a -far country after the fashion of the princes, prodigals, and younger -sons of historic ages. - -Place and time being appointed for the newly-joined partners to meet -and take ship for their destination, Hubert Stamford commenced all -requisite preparation for a start homewards. - -He had no further heart for the pleasures of Sydney—the ordinary -distractions of a young man palled upon him. He felt like a general -whose army is about to march for the imminent battle—like a soldier -picked for a forlorn hope, or an advanced guard. The meaner -pleasures revolted him. Balls and picnics, theatres and concerts, -were but the straws and _débris_ of life’s ocean. The argosy which -carried his fortunes was about to sail with canvas spread and -streamers flying. Would she return gold-laden, or would the cold -ocean engulf her as so many other fairer barks which, “youth at the -prow and pleasure at the helm,” had sailed away through the _ingens -aequor_, and returned nevermore? Was it to be so with him? - -Might it be a proved success, a wider experience with the praise of -all men, the joyful tears and triumph of those who loved him? Or -that other thing? Who could tell? He could only resolve to do and to -dare worthily, whatever might befall, for their dear sakes. - -Miss Dacre, with her father and brother, had left town for -Wantabalree, being anxious to be settled in their new abode. The -Colonel, distrusting more deeply day by day the wisdom of his -purchase, had become restless and uneasy; he wanted to see with his -own eyes how things went on, and to justify himself, if possible, -for the investment, at which more than one disinterested critic had -shaken his head. Willoughby Dacre, an ardent inexperienced -youngster, who thought Australian squatter life made up wholly of -galloping about on horseback, and lying under shady trees eating -tropical fruits, was also impatient to be in the thick of the -half-Arab life he pictured to himself. - -Rosalind Dacre, though the chief doubter and dissentient, was yet -eager to see with her own eyes this land of promise, which was, -according to Hubert, to fail so woefully in performance, and also to -put in practice her own ideas of “the gentle life” as possible in -Australia; at the same time to comfort her father and aid in the -household management. - -For all these reasons the Dacre family had departed; and Hubert, -calling at their hotel, found to his surprise and slight -dissatisfaction, that they had gone the day before, a note of the -Colonel’s alone remaining _en souvenir_, in which he thanked him for -his well-meant, valuable advice, and trusted they would meet in the -neighbourhood of their respective stations. - -For some unexplained reason Hubert read this trivial note several -times, and then tearing it up in a reflective manner, walked slowly -towards his own hostelry. - -“When do you think of leaving, Hubert?” said Mr. Hope, as they were -talking over districts and markets, land laws and tenures, railways -and syndicates, all more or less bearing on the great pastoral -central idea. “When shall you go home?” - -“On Friday, I think. I am getting tired of town, and everything is -fully arranged.” - -“Everything is settled that needs settling, and nothing more can be -done until you young men manage to get pretty far back, and make -your first deal in new country. It’s a gloriously exciting, -adventurous kind of life, this starting to take up new country. I -often wish I’d taken to it myself in youth, instead of this branch -of the business.” - -“Living in town seems a pleasant life enough,” said Hubert. “You -have all sorts of things that we people in the bush have to do -without.” - -“And we need them all,” said the elder man. “This office life is one -eternal grind, month after month, year after year. But I don’t wish -to complain. I suppose all men get ‘hypped’ sometimes.” - -“I never do,” laughed Hubert; “the day’s never long enough for me; -but I suppose I soon should if I lived all the year round in town. -It’s being so much in the open air that saves one. But why don’t you -clear out to Windāhgil for a change? Come home with me. The governor -and my mother are always expecting you to send them word you’re -coming.” - -“I wish to heaven I could,” said the man of the city, looking -enviously at Hubert’s cheery countenance and unworn features; “but I -can’t find the time at present. However, I promise to turn up at -Mooramah—isn’t that your railway town?—some time before Christmas. I -shall count the days till I can, I assure you.” - -“I shall be away then, I am sorry to say,” said Hubert. “I should -like to have taken you all over the old place. There are one or two -decent views, and rides and drives no end. However, the girls and -the young brothers know them as well as I do; you must get them to -do the honours. Oh! I forgot, too—you can drive them over to the -Dacres’. But you mustn’t put it off too long. Still, they can’t be -ruined within a year or eighteen months, anyhow.” - -“And perhaps not then,” said Mr. Hope, with a smile. “Friends might -intervene judiciously, you know. It won’t be Mr. Dealerson’s fault -if they pull through, however.” - -“No, hang him! However, there must be Dealersons in the world, I -suppose. They act as a kind of foil to honest men, and serve as -transparencies to show roguery in all its glory. Well, good-bye till -then. We may meet before Delamere and I start for the ‘Never-Never’ -country.” - - * * * * * - -When Hubert Stamford beheld his sisters and his younger brother, who -had driven to Mooramah to meet him, he felt more like a stranger and -pilgrim than he ever expected to feel in that familiar spot. He was -there with them, but not of them, as it were. He was to stay a month -or so at Windāhgil—only a month at the dear old place where he had -lived ever since he could remember anything; he was to go over all -the familiar scenes once more, and then—to leave it, certainly for -years, perhaps for ever. After the first warm greeting the girls -looked inquiringly at him; the tears came into Laura’s eyes. “Oh, -how happy we are to see you, our own dear Hubert; but to think you -are going away so soon nearly breaks my heart!” she said. - -“He looks wonderfully well. Town life—not too much—always refines -people,” said Linda, with an air of tender criticism; “but I think -there’s a hard look about his eyes. I suppose it’s making up his -mind to this grand new speculation.” - -“You see exactly the same Hubert Stamford that went away, you little -analysing duffer, but is it my fault that I have had to move with -the rest of the world? Do you want me to stay at home and become a -superior sort of ‘cockatoo,’ and are you and Laura—if it is to come -to that—prepared to remain at Windāhgil for the rest of your lives?” - -“I wish I could,” groaned Laura; “but as you say, we must move with -the rest of the world. Still these separations are heart-breaking. -You needn’t mind us overmuch, dear; but we are women, remember, and -you must let us have our cry out. It does us good, and relieves the -overcharged heart.” - -“Very well, I consent. But you must manage it all to-day. To-morrow -must be sunshine, and only blue sky appear till I depart. But -there’s a whole month or more yet. Think of that! We can be ever so -happy all that time. Now, to change the subject. Have you seen -anything of the Dacres?” - -“That means Miss Dacre, I suppose,” said Linda. “Oh, yes; we went to -call almost directly we heard they were up. Said we thought they -might want something. That was how we described our curiosity.” - -“And what do you think of her?” - -“She’s a dear, sweet creature, and Laura and I have agreed that if -you don’t fall in love with her, your taste isn’t as good as we -believed it to be.” - -“She’s very nice,” said Hubert, with society nonchalance; “but I’ve -got something else to do besides falling in love for the next three -or four years. Besides, she mightn’t condescend to a humble colonist -like me. But tell me, Laura, what was there about her that you were -struck with chiefly?” - -“Several things,” said Laura, reflectively. “She is a high-caste, -cultured girl in every respect, though she is so fresh, and natural, -and plain in all her ways, that people who are always looking out -for the airs and graces of the Lady Clara Vere de Vere species might -be disappointed in her.” - -“All that I can understand and generally agree with,” said Hubert. -“What next?” - -“She is awfully energetic,” continued Laura. “Of course, there are -plenty of girls in this country that are, but she never seems to -have any notion of repose from the time she gets up, which is early, -till bed-time. She reads and writes and does her housekeeping, and -walks, and rides and drives, and what she calls visits the poor (oh, -there is quite a good story about that, which I must tell you!), all -with unvarying industry.” - -“She is a newly imported broom,” said Hubert, “and naturally sweeps -with effectiveness. It will slow down a little with time. But it’s a -fault on the right side. Tell us the story, Laura dear.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - -“Well,” said Laura, putting on a Scheherazade expression of -countenance, “it appears that Miss Dacre, having been used to be -good to the poor of the village near where they lived in England, -could not get on without them. Much to her surprise, she found them -scarce in the neighbourhood of Wantabalree. Mr. Dealerson did not -‘believe in’ poor people, and generally ‘fed out,’ ‘blocked,’ or -bought out small holders. At length, in one of her rides, she came -upon an old couple living in a miserable hut, the man feeble and -half-blind, both apparently destitute; their one little girl was -barefooted and in rags. They told a pitiful story of having been -deceived in the matter of a free selection—which, of course, she -couldn’t understand—and deserted by their children. Charmed by their -evident poverty and artless expressions of gratitude, she gave them -what silver she had, and promised them employment.” - -“Her intention was good,” said Hubert. “I can guess the kind of -people they were; but it speaks well for her kindness of heart.” - -“Nothing could be kinder, I am sure; but I grieve to say, she rushed -into a declamation (she confessed) about the hardness of colonists’ -hearts—who would let so deserving a couple almost die of hunger in a -land of plenty.” - -“As to that,” said Hubert, “very few people suffer from hunger in -Australia, except when they decline work. Even then, they manage to -live on their friends. How did the story end?” - -“Well, she formed a plan for persuading these delightful poor to -migrate to Wantabalree, where they were to be fed and furnished with -light work. Fortunately for her peace of mind, when she told her -father and brother, they made inquiries among the neighbours. Then -they found out that the old man was one of the most artful and -successful sheep-stealers in the district, and had even been tried -for graver crimes. The money she gave him he invested in rum, under -the influence of which he beat his wife and turned his little -daughter out of doors.” - -“And what effect had this discovery on her philanthropy, for of -course it was old Jimmy Doolan—a man the police have been trying to -get hold of for years—as slippery as a fox and as savage as a wolf?” - -“She had to recant; to admit that perhaps, on the whole, the -characters of people were known and appreciated by those amongst -whom they lived. Still, she said there was a want of systematic -benevolence in the neighbourhood, and that she would rather be -deceived occasionally, than sink into a state of cold indifferentism -towards her fellow creatures.” - -“It’s really quite pathetic,” said Hubert. “One feels drawn towards -a girl of such tendencies as if she were a nice child. It seems hard -that a few years of colonial experience should deprive her of such -tender illusions.” - -“I don’t think anything will tone her down into anything -uninteresting, if you mean that,” said Linda; “she has too much high -principle and refinement.” - -“She will learn to act judiciously in time, as mother does, for -instance,” said Laura. “She’s always bestowing father’s substance -upon some poor creature or other; but she finds out the right sort -of people, and the proper when and where.” - -Before long a return visit occurred from Wantabalree, from which -place Willoughby Dacre drove his sister to Windāhgil about a week -after the conversation above recorded. - -The brother and sister made their appearance in a vehicle of -unpretending appearance, being, indeed, no other than the -spring-cart which was “given in” ostentatiously by Mr. Dealerson, -along with furniture and other station requisites. Willoughby, -having managed to rig up leading harness, had accomplished a tandem -with two of the best-looking horses on the station, so that the -turn-out was not wholly plebeian. - -Much mutual delight was expressed by the girls, and various -experiences interchanged which had occurred since their last -meeting. The young men went off together to put up the horses, and -took advantage of the opportunity to have a little sheep-talk. - -“How are you getting on so far?” said Hubert. “Shaking down a bit, I -suppose. Does your father approve of bush life?” - -“Oh, he finds himself most comfortable,” answered Willoughby. “He -has a snug morning room with a fire, and plenty of books and papers. -He says he never expected to enjoy himself so much in the bush. He -takes a great interest in the garden too. The fruit trees and vines -are really something to look at.” - -“I don’t doubt it,” said Hubert. “The house and grounds, stabling -and out-offices are about the best in the district. Well, I hope -you’ll all live there many years to enjoy them.” - -“I hope so too,” said Willoughby; “but excuse me if I say that you -don’t seem to expect it. Now, why is it that, as everything is so -good in its way, the sheep well-bred, everybody says, and looking so -well now, that you regard the investment as a bad one? You are not -alone in that opinion either, though the other neighbours don’t -speak so honestly.” - -“My prophecy of evil may not come off, after all. This is an -uncertain country as to weather, and weather with us is everything. -But if the rain holds off, you’ll see what I mean. You have about -two-thirds too many sheep on the run. That is all.” - -“What can we do?” - -“Well, nothing just at present. In a general way, sell off surplus -stock as soon as you can do so profitably. But in a dry season -everybody wishes to sell, and few care to buy except at the lowest -prices. However, I’ll put you up to the likeliest dodges when the -time comes.” - -“Thanks very much. I can’t help feeling anxious from time to time -when I think that our all is embarked in this undertaking. I thought -it was so safe and solid, and never dreamed that there could be such -a swindle worked when all looked fair outside. The governor was -rash, I must say. It’s a way of his. But we must fight our way out -of the scrape, now we’re in it.” - -“That’s the only thing to be done, and not to lose heart. There are -always chances and changes with stock in Australia. Fortunes are -always to be made.” - -“And to be lost, it seems. You are just going to invest in -Queensland, I hear. Isn’t that a long way off?” - -“It’s never too far off if the country’s good,” said Hubert. “Runs -are cheap there now, but they are always rising in value. I intend -to send a lot of our Windāhgil sheep out there as soon as we get -settled.” - -“If we hadn’t spent all our money,” said the young Englishman -regretfully, “we might have bought a run there too. However, it -can’t be helped, as we said before. I shall be glad to hear from you -when you get there.” - -“Any information I can give shall be at your service, as well as all -possible assistance,” said Hubert, warmly. “Always depend upon that. -But it’s early in the day to talk about such things. We shall see -more clearly what to do as the occasion arises. And now, we had -better join the ladies.” - -It was settled after a rather animated discussion that the visitors -were not to return to Wantabalree that night. In vain they pleaded -household tasks, station exigencies, the anxiety which Colonel Dacre -was certain to experience at their absence. All these reasons were -treated as mere excuses. There couldn’t be much housekeeping for one -person, especially as they had, for a wonder, a decent cook. The -station could wait, the less work done among the sheep at present, -the better; while it was extracted in cross-examination that Colonel -Dacre had told them that if they did not return, he should conclude -they had stayed at Windāhgil. So the truce was definitely arranged, -the horses turned into the river paddock, the young men went out for -a drive in Hubert’s buggy to inspect a dam “at the back,” concerning -which young Dacre had expressed some interest, while the three -girls, after a ramble in the garden, settled down to a good steady -afternoon’s needlework and an exhaustive discussion of bush life, -and Australian matters generally. - -“What a famous, light-running, easy trap this is of yours!” said -Dacre, as they spun over the smooth, sandy bush track, Whalebone and -Whipcord, an exceptionally fast pair of horses, slipping along at -half-speed. - -“Yes,” said Hubert. “It’s the best thing of the kind that’s made, I -believe. I bought this to take out with me to the new country. I -think it is economical to have a vehicle of this sort. There are -many bits of station work that a buggy comes in for, and you save -horseflesh. I wonder you don’t get one for your sister.” - -“Well, we found the tax-cart at the station, and Rosalind’s such a -terrific economist that she wouldn’t hear of us buying a carriage, -as she calls it, for her. But I really must go in for a buggy, if -it’s only on the governor’s account. He’s not so young as he was, -and riding knocks him about, I can see. But how fast your horses -are! I didn’t think Australian horses went in for trotting much. -None of ours do.” - -“Australian horses (and men and women too, as I think I have -mentioned before),” remarked Hubert with suspicious mildness, -“resemble those in other parts of the world, though the contrary is -asserted. Some are good, others bad. Some of them—the horses, I now -allude to—can trot. Others cannot. This pair, for instance”—(here he -tightened his reins, and in some imperceptible fashion gave a -signal, which they answered to by putting up their heads and -bursting into sixteen miles an hour)—“can do a mile in very fair -time for non-professionals.” - -“So I see,” replied the young Englishman. “I wish I was not so hasty -in forming impressions; however, I shall be cured of that in time. -But it is awfully trying to hold your tongue when everything is new -and exciting, and to talk cautiously is foreign to the Dacre -nature.” - -“‘_Experientia_ does it,’ as we used to say at school,” laughed -Hubert. “You’ll be chaffing new arrivals in a couple of years -yourself. The regulation period is about that time, and I don’t -think you’ll take so long as some people.” - -“That’s a compliment to my general intelligence,” said Dacre. “I -suppose I ought to feel grateful. But one can’t help a slight -feeling of soreness, you know, that after being regularly educated -for a colonial life, as I was, and coached in all the necessary -carpentering, blacksmithing, agriculture, and so on, I should find -myself so utterly ignorant and helpless here.” - -“Come, come,” said Hubert; “you do yourself injustice. It won’t take -more than a year to make a smart bushman of you, I can see. But I -suppose it’s something like going into a strange country to hunt. -You remember that when Mr. Sawyer went to the Shires he felt under a -disadvantage at first.” - -“Yes, but you wouldn’t, or M’Intosh, or any of the other fellows -I’ve seen; that’s what makes me so savage with myself. You’d know -your way about; people wouldn’t discover, unless you told them, that -you had lived in England all your days, while we fellows, who came -out here certainly thinking ourselves as good all round as any one -we were likely to find, are always exposing our ignorance, getting -laughed at, or taken in, and are marked for immigrants and tyros as -far as we can be seen.” - -“I observe your point, and it is a little aggravating,” replied -Hubert. “But after all, it is a compliment to our mother country -that we make it our business from childhood to know all about her -history and traditions, manners and customs, from a thousand -accurate chronicles. Our usages, modelled upon hers and religiously -handed down by our parents, are identical, or as nearly so as we can -make them. But our country and our trifling yet marked departures -from English standards have found few close observers, accurate -descriptions, and fewer narrators still. There is hardly any way of -getting acquainted with us, except by actual experience.” - -“It looks like it,” assented his friend, reluctantly; “but I mourn -over the fond illusions Rosalind and I are doomed to lose before we -complete our apprenticeship. Hope we may acquire others not less -satisfactory. The outlook at Wantabalree at present might be -brighter too, if what you told my father comes to pass.” - -“It may not happen after all, or it may be parried and averted. All -manner of chances may arise in your interest. So do not _think_ of -desponding,” said Hubert. “One of the special characteristics of -Australians is, that they _never despair_.” - -“Never know when they are beat, in fact,” said Dacre, with a -returning smile. “Well that is a genuine English trait at any rate, -so I must support the credit of my country.” - - * * * * * - -The dam was inspected and the principle of the “by-wash” explained -to Dacre, who showed an aptitude and readiness to comprehend the -necessary detail which favourably impressed Hubert. - -The free horses pulled more on the homeward track than coming out, -and elicited high commendation. - -“They certainly are superb goers, and this is the poetry of motion,” -Dacre exclaimed, as, sending out their eight legs as if they -belonged to one horse, the well-matched pair made the light, yet -strong vehicle spin over the level road with an ease and velocity -which no two-wheeled trap ever approached. “I shall be unhappy till -I set up a buggy and a pair of trotters—all the good resolutions to -spend nothing that could be helped made at the beginning of the -month notwithstanding.” - -“It’s false economy to go without a buggy,” said Hubert. “Tell your -father I said so. And that is easily demonstrable. It saves -horse-flesh, enables you to carry feed in a dry season, and has -other useful and agreeable qualities.” - -The tea, for which they were just in time to dress, was an -agreeable, not to say hilarious, meal. The Miss Stamfords, it would -seem, had been admitting their visitor into all kinds of occult -mysteries of domestic management. How they arranged when they were -short of a servant, without a cook or a housemaid, or indeed, as -occasionally happened, though not for any protracted period, when -they had no servant at all. - -Miss Dacre was astonished to find what a complete and practical -knowledge these soft-appearing, graceful damsels displayed with many -branches of household lore, and how many hints they were able to -offer for her acceptance, all of which tended to lighten the labours -of bush housekeeping, which she had already found burdensome. - -From Mrs. Stamford, on opening the relief question, it was -discovered that she had various humble friends and pensioners, all -of whom she helped, after a fashion which encouraged them to be -industrious and self-supporting; others again received advice in the -management of their families, the treatment of their children, the -choice of trades for their sons, and of service for their daughters. -In a number of humble homes, and by all the neighbouring settlers, -this gentle, low-voiced woman was regarded as the _châtelaine_ of -the manor, the good angel of the neighbourhood, the personage to -whom all deferred, whose virtues all imitated at a distance, and -whom to disappoint or to pain was a matter more deeply regretted -than the actual shortcoming which had led to reproof. - -And all this work had been done—this sensible system of true -Christian benevolence and aid was in full flow and operation—without -one word being said by the agents themselves which gave a hint of -the energy, contrivance, and self-denial manifestly necessary for -such results. All things were done silently, unobtrusively; no one -spoke of them, or seemed to think them other than matters of course. - -This was a phase of colonial life which struck the eager critic of -the new land with something like dismay. Was it possible in this -strange country that there might be yet other instances of human -love and charity efficiently performed with equal thoroughness and -absence of demonstration? If so, had she not been making herself -somewhat ridiculous in assuming hurriedly that there were so many -niches in Australian temples sacred to heroic effort which were -unfilled before she arrived. - -In spite of the slight feeling of soreness which the knowledge -caused her, the general influence of the symposium, separated as she -had been for some weeks from companions of her own sex and social -standing, was unusually exhilarating. Her naturally genial -temperament led her, therefore, to laugh secretly at her own -miscalculation and discomfiture as a very good and choice joke -indeed. - -However, she was less explanatory than her brother had been, -preferring inferential admission, after the manner of her sex. This -concession to the wisdom of the colonists exhibited itself in -unaffected good humour and affectionate cordiality towards her -comparatively recent friends. - -She joined cheerily in all the amusements and occupations of the -evening. She sang and played, praising the performances of the -Stamford girls and the new songs they had brought back with them -from the metropolis. She talked flowers and greenhouse with her -hostess, and had a slight political tilt with Mr. Stamford. In all -these subjects she exhibited sound teaching as well as a careful -theoretical training. Nothing could be more modest and less -assertive than her general manner, at the same time that a wider -range of thought, consequent upon European travel and extended -social experience, was unconsciously apparent. When the Windāhgil -family retired for the night, Mr. Stamford expressed his opinion to -his wife, in the sanctity of the matrimonial chamber, that he had -never met a finer girl in his life before, and that he was delighted -that they should have such a neighbour; while Hubert, in the -smoking-room, whither he had retired with his young friend at a late -period of the evening, _may have_ meditated upon the command “to -love thy neighbour as thyself,” but forbore to commit himself by -unguarded expression. - -On the next day, after a mirthful and consolatory breakfast—a trifle -later than usual, inasmuch as the three maidens sat talking so late -that the morning slumbers were prolonged—the new neighbours -departed. Fresh expressions of approval and surprise were exhibited -by this English guest at the home-baked bread, the butter, the -honey, the incomparable home-cured bacon, and other triumphs of -domestic economy. - -“I have enjoyed myself as I never expected to do in the bush,” she -said; “I thought there would be nothing but devotion to ‘duty, stern -daughter of the voice of God.’ I never dreamed that so much of the -poetry of life was attainable. You have taught me a lesson” (this -was in confidence to Laura at parting) “for which I shall be all the -better henceforth. I am not too old or too conceited to learn, at -any rate.” - -“You have nothing very much to learn,” replied Laura; “we may be -mutually advantageous to one another, that’s all, if we make an -agreement to put as much friendship and as little ceremony into our -intercourse as possible. It will not be long before we come over to -stay a night at Wantabalree, before poor Hubert starts for -Queensland, I grieve to say, and then you must comfort us in our -loneliness.” - -“Papa will be quite charmed to see you again. If you had heard all -the fine things he said about you and Linda, you would have thought -he was looking out for a step-mamma for me. But he is purely -theoretical in that department, I am thankful to say, and now good -bye, and _au revoir_!” - -The promised visit was paid, and a renewal of friendship and good -offices ratified, while the days passed on and the period of -Hubert’s stay with his family drew near to a close. The -long-expected, long-dreaded day arrived for his departure to the -land of adventure, and, alas! of danger—it could not be concealed. - -All preparations for the momentous event were at length completed, -and once more the family assembled at the railway terminus at -Mooramah to bid farewell to the son and brother—the mainstay, the -hope of Windāhgil. Deep and unaffected was the grief, although -outward manifestations were heroically suppressed. - -The warning bell sounded, the last adieux were said, and, as the -train moved off, relentless, irrevocable as fate—the fair summer day -gloomed, while the family party drove sadly back to their home, from -which the sunshine seemed to have been suddenly withdrawn. - -Such are the partings in this world of chequered joy and sorrow—of -light and shadow. What prayers were that night offered up to the -All-wise Dispenser of events for the safety, the success, the -return—ah, me!—of the absent wayfarer—for him might the fervid -sunbeams of the inner deserts—be tempered—for him might the fierce -denizens of the wild be placated—for him might the terrible -uncertainty of flood and field be guided for good! The sisters wept -themselves to sleep in each other’s arms, while the mother’s face -was sad with unuttered grief, and the father’s brow grave for many a -day after this long-remembered parting. - -But Time, the healer, brought to them, as to others, the successive -stages of calm resignation, of renewed hope. The post brought -tidings of a safely concluded voyage, of accomplished land travel. -At longer intervals, of promising investment, of successful -exploration, of permanent settlement in the land of promise, of the -occupation of pastures new in a region richly gifted by nature, and -needing but the gradual advance of civilisation to be promoted to a -profitable and acknowledged status. - -Lastly, a despatch arrived of an eminently satisfactory nature, from -Mr. Barrington Hope, confirming the latest advices from “the -wandering heir.” “Mr. Hubert Stamford had more than justified all -the expectations formed of his energy and business aptitude. He had -purchased, at a comparatively small outlay, a lightly-stocked and -very extensive station upon the border of the settled country. -Leaving Mr. Delamere and a manager of proved ability in charge, he -had pushed on, and after a toilsome journey, happily accomplished -without accident or loss, had discovered and taken up, under the -Queensland regulations, which are most favourable to pioneers, an -immense tract of well-watered, pastoral country of the best quality. -They had received from their correspondents the highest commendation -of the value of the property now secured and registered in the name -of Delamere and Stamford. Windāhgil Downs was a proverb in the -mouths of the pioneer squatters of the colony, and the Laura and -Linda rivers were duly marked upon the official map at the -Surveyor-General’s office as permanent and important watercourses. - -“The Austral Agency Company had the fullest confidence in the -prospects of the firm, and any reasonable amount of capital would be -forthcoming for necessary expenses in stocking up and legally -occupying the magnificent tract of pastoral country referred to.” - -A private letter accompanied this formally-worded official -communication, informing Mr. and Mrs. Stamford that the writer -proposed to avail himself of their kind invitation to visit -Windāhgil at Christmas, when he would be enabled to utilise a -long-promised leave of absence for a few weeks. - -It may be imagined, but can with difficulty be even sketched -faintly, with what feelings of joy and gratitude this precious -intelligence was received at Windāhgil; the happiness, too deep for -words, of the parents; the wild, ecstatic triumph of the sisters; -the elation of the servants and station hands, which communicated -itself to the inhabitants of the surrounding sub-district, all of -whom were included in the general glory of the event and unfeignedly -happy at the news of Hubert’s brilliant success. - -“He deserves it all. I never thought but he’d come to good, and show -’em all the way if he got a chance,” was the general comment of the -humbler partisans. “He was always the poor man’s friend, was Master -Hubert; and now he’s going to be at the top of the tree, and it’s -where he ought to be. He’s a good sort, and always was. There wasn’t -a young man within a day’s ride of Mooramah as was fit to be named -in the same day with him.” - -“Oh! Laura, isn’t it splendid, delicious, divine?” exclaimed Linda, -dancing round her sister and mother with inexpressible delight. (Mr. -Stamford had retired to compose his feelings in the garden.) “Oh! -dear, this world’s a splendid place of abode, after all, though I’ve -had terrible doubts lately. Wasn’t it fortunate we had strength of -mind to let dear, darling Hubert go, though it nearly broke our -hearts? I was certain some of my heart-strings cracked—really I -was—but now I feel better than ever, quite _young_, indeed! Oh! how -grateful we ought to be!” - -“You were not the only one who suffered, were you, dear?” said -Laura, looking dreamily into the distance, beyond the gleaming -river, now indeed reduced to nearly its old dimensions. “Our prayer -has been answered. Some day we shall see our hero returning -‘bringing his sheaves with him.’ Oh! happy day! Mother, what shall -we do to relieve our feelings? I feel as if I could not bear it -unless we did something.” - -“Suppose we drive over to Wantabalree?” suggested Linda. “Father -always enjoys a chat with the Colonel, and that dear, good Rosalind -is always so nice and sympathising about Hubert. I wonder if she -cares for him the _least little_ bit? But she’d die before she let -anybody know, and Hubert was so disagreeable, he refused to give me -the least hint. What do you think, mother?” - -“I think nothing at all, my dear child. In all these matters, it is -the wisest course neither to think nor to speak prematurely. But I -daresay your father would drive us over, if we asked him, and we -could stay a night there. As you say, a chat with the Colonel always -does him good.” - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - -So at Windāhgil and Wantabalree the calm, uneventful bush life went -on as usual. That life so peaceful, so wholesome for the spirit, so -chiefly free from the sharp cares and anxieties of city -existence—where the eye is refreshed daily with nature pictures, at -once grand and consoling. The early morn, so fair and fresh, when -the sun first glorifies the pale mists of dawn, changing all the -Orient with magic suddenness to opaline hues and golden flame. The -green gloom, the august solitude of the boundless forest, the -glowing sunshine which pierces even its inmost recesses at midday; -the wavering shadows, born of the inconstant breeze; the tender eve -when a solemn hush falls alike on stream and valley, on -mountain-side or wildwood glade, and all the ancient majesty of -night awes the senses. For the Windāhgil family, the placid days -came and went, lightened, as of old, by the regularity of customary -home duties, by books and music, by walks along the rippling river, -by rides and drives through the winding forest paths. Occasional -expeditions to Wantabalree made salutary change for all. As the -summer months wore on—as the days lengthened, and the mid-day heat -became intense; as the fiercer sun rays commenced to wither the bush -herbage of the river meadows, the many-hued wild flowers of heath -and hill; as the watercourses, fed by spring showers, commenced to -trickle faintly—there was a tendency to complain of the tyrant -Summer, and yet to long for the Christmas-tide as a period of mirth -and enjoyment—this year invested with a special charm. - -For had not a telegram from some unknown, unknowable place, and -costing quite a small fortune, arrived, which stated that Hubert, -the _bien aimé_, would return at Christmas—actually return? “Like -the prodigal,” as Linda said, “only that it was the reverse in -everything except the coincidence of its being ‘from a far -country.’” - -“The coincidence being so very slight, Linda,” said her mother, -“perhaps it would have been as well to refrain from Scriptural -parallel altogether. Don’t you think so, Miss Dacre? I had given up -expecting him after his last letter, in which he said there were -insuperable difficulties in the way.” - -“He has managed to surmount the insuperable apparently,” said Linda. -“Hubert always was a wonderful boy for accomplishing things just at -the last moment. I don’t think I ever knew him beaten by anything he -made up his mind to do, though he used to leave things rather too -long.” - -“That is one of Hubert’s worst points—or rather, most pronounced -weaknesses,” said Laura; “he won’t be wise in time except on what he -thinks are occasions of importance. It seems a defect with people of -energy and resource. For instance, I can’t imagine Hubert saying he -will cross a river or accomplish a journey and failing to carry out -his purpose, whatever happened. He is one of those people who seem -made for difficulties.” - -“But difficulties which come upon the unprepared are apt to be -disastrous,” said Miss Dacre; “for my part, I am strongly in favour -of taking every imaginable precaution before the time of need.” - -“The principle is good, but it doesn’t apply to Hubert,” said Linda, -still unconvinced. “Difficulties and impossibilities only stimulate -his resources, which are innumerable. When another man would lie -down and die, he would be quite in his element, ordering, inventing, -combining, and finally pulling through triumphantly.” - -“It must be interesting to watch such a _tour de force_,” said Miss -Dacre; “but I prefer the generalship which surveys the field, and -places the battle in advance. Hit or miss, conquerors find their -Moscow some day.” - -“Hubert has made a glorious campaign this time,” said Laura. “What a -day of days it will be when he shows his brown face at Mooramah -again! Doesn’t it seem an age since he went away, Rosalind?” - -“I am sure papa and Willoughby will be very glad to see him again,” -said she. “I know they wish to have his advice about the sheep and -the season. They are getting quite anxious.” - - * * * * * - -No! The engine did not break down. The steamer with the Chinese -name, from the far north, the _Ly-wang-foo_, did not founder or take -fire. The floods did not sweep away the railway bridges. There was -not even an earthquake. All these phenomena and abnormal occurrences -were, in Linda’s opinion, almost certain to happen because Hubert -was coming home to spend Christmas with the family, and envious Fate -would be certain to interfere. Everything had gone so prosperously -hitherto that Destiny must be propitiated by sacrifice. Mr. -Barrington Hope was coming up also, as he had looked forward to a -holiday—of course _he_ would be disappointed, and so on. - -Wonderful to relate, a few days before Christmas, again the family -trap was in requisition, driven by one of the boys. - -The door of the first-class carriage opened, and a bronzed, -Indian-officer-looking man stepped out. The boys at first did not -know him. But when a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman, who followed -him, proposed to send a porter for their luggage, the younger boy -shouted out—“Why, it’s Hubert! Hubert! What a lark! We didn’t know -him. Why you _have_ changed! You’re ever so much thinner, and your -eyes are larger, and your face browner. What have you done to -yourself? We’ve come for you and Mr. Hope. Is this him?” - -“Yes, this is he, Master Maurice. Your grammar appears to have stood -still, though you have grown such a big fellow. See about the -luggage, and have it put in the buggy; it will hold it all, unless -it has got smaller. Well, how are mother and father and Laura, and -Linda, and Waterking, and everybody? Why didn’t they come?” - -“Well—they thought they’d be hugging you before all the people, and -they’d better wait and do it at home. So they sent me and Val with -the buggy. You’d better drive.” - -“That is my intention, Maurice. I prefer to drive, though I know you -can handle the reins. But tell me about Windāhgil. What is the grass -like? Had much rain?” - -“Only enough for sprinkling the garden these three months. I heard -old Jerry, the shepherd, tell Paddy Nolan that he thought it was -going to set in dry—the west wind was always blowing. _We’ve_ lots -of feed yet.” - -“Old Jerry is a good judge of the weather at Mooramah; he’s been -watching it these fifty years. And how are they at Wantabalree?” - -“Very poor, almost starving.” - -“What?” said Hubert. And then laughing at the boy’s strictly -pastoral ideas, he said—“You mean the sheep in the paddocks, I -suppose.” - -“Yes, of course; they’re getting as bare as your hand. What they’ll -do with all those sheep in another month or two nobody knows. Half -of ’em’ll die before winter.” - -“You seem to take a practical view of things, Maurice,” said Mr. -Hope. “Are matters as bad as all that?” - -“Well, I’m about a good deal, and I can’t help seeing. It’s a pity, -too; they’re so nice, all of them.” - - * * * * * - -Hubert at home again! After all the doubts, fears, delays. Maurice -had not exaggerated the amount of hugging, as he disrespectfully -expressed it, which the returning hero had to undergo, and which -would probably have created a stoppage on Mooramah platform. Mr. -Hope stood by with a tolerant air, and even made some light remark -to Miss Dacre as to their being left out of the extremely warm -greetings which prevailed. A very short time, however, was suffered -to elapse before all due apologies were made to their guests, and -the cordiality of Laura’s manner perhaps caused Barrington Hope to -overlook any overweening measure of love bestowed upon the -long-absent brother. - -“How her eyes sparkled, how her cheek glowed, how she seemed to -devour the young fellow with her eyes!” he said to himself. And he -argued favourably, knowing something of womankind, of the probable -devotion to her husband should she ever condescend to endow mortal -man with that supreme and sacred title. - -It was in vain to expect much general conversation that day. If the -visitors had been less sympathetic persons they might easily have -been aggrieved at the predominance of Hubert’s personal adventures, -opinions and experiences in all subsequent intercourse. - -For the moment, everybody thought him much altered and changed, -wasted even in frame, sunburned, blackened by exposure, but, on the -whole, improved. There was a determination in his expression which -had not so habitually marked his features before—a look as of a man -who has confronted the grim hazards of the waste—who has dared the -odds which in the desert land of the savage are arrayed against him; -dared them only to conquer. It was the face of the conscript after -the campaign and the battle-field. If there was less than the old -measure of schoolboy gaiety and frolicsome spirits, there was an -added infusion of the dignity of the man. - -Then his adventures. He must relate some of them. Even Miss Dacre -joined in this request. Like the knife-grinder, “story he had none -to tell,” but could not escape owning to having been laid up in a -bark hut with fever and ague, that had pulled him down so; nearly -drowned in crossing a flooded river; had a brush with the blacks, -who rose up from the tall grass all round him; horse speared under -him, and so on. All this, though Hubert made light of it with -characteristic modesty, seemed to his hearers of the nature of -thrilling and exciting romance. - -“Hubert must feel like a troubadour of the Middle Ages,” said Linda, -“reciting before the lady of the castle and her maidens. It must -have been an awful temptation to improvise situations, and I dare -say they did. Fancy if we had no books, and were dependent entirely -upon wandering minstrels!” - -“It mightn’t be altogether such a bad thing, Miss Linda,” said -Barrington Hope. “A handsome young troubadour would be more -entertaining than a dry book, or even an indifferent novel.” - -“It wouldn’t be such a bad trade for the unemployed,” said Laura; -“but I suspect neither their manners nor their education would be -found suitable.” - -“Some of the swagmen in Queensland would fill the requirements so -far,” said Hubert. “I have seen more than one ‘honourable’ on the -tramp. Only it would not do to trust them too near the sideboard.” - -“What a pathetic picture,” said Miss Dacre; “fancy the son of a peer -trudging along the road, with his knapsack on his back, actually -begging from door to door!” - -“It is not regarded as begging in outside country,” said Hubert. “It -is the recognised mode of locomotion for labourers and artisans.” - -“And can they not procure steady employment?” said Miss Dacre, in a -tone of deep anxiety. “Surely it only needs some one to take an -interest in them, and give them good advice. Now, don’t smile in -that provoking way, Mr. Stamford, or I shall think you have brought -back unimpaired one of your least amiable traits.” - -“Forgive me, Miss Dacre, for presuming on my part to hint that you -do not appear to be cured of what I supposed you would have learned -by this time to distrust—an unlimited trust in your less favoured -fellow creatures. The men of whom I speak live at free quarters when -they travel, are occasionally received on equal terms, and are paid, -when they condescend to do work, at the ordinary high rate of wages, -viz., from thirty shillings to two pounds per week, with board and -lodging.” - -“And are they not encouraged to save this? They could soon put by -quite a small fortune.” - -“Their misfortune is that they never _do_ save. They invariably -gamble or drink—generally the latter—till all is gone. Once lapsed, -they follow the habits of the uneducated working man with curious -fidelity.” - -“What a terrible condition! What a terrible country where such -things can take place!” - -“On the contrary; it is the best land attainable by the confirmed -prodigal. In England, I take it, the dissipated, improvident men of -their order go rapidly and thoroughly to the bad, passing swiftly -out of knowledge. Here they have intervals of wholesome labour and -compulsory sobriety, which recruit the constitution and give them -opportunity for repentance, if they ever _do_ repent.” - -While this conversation was proceeding, Mr. Stamford and Barrington -Hope had been having a quiet semi-business talk, and this being -concluded, Miss Dacre was persuaded to open the piano, after which -Mr. Hope gave them some of the latest _Parsifal_ morceaux fresh from -Bayreuth, where he had a musical correspondent, having spent there -some of the days of his youth. Music now absorbed all attention for -the rest of the evening, everybody being more or less of an amateur; -and even Hubert showing that he had not been wholly without the -region of sweet sounds by bringing back and displaying two new -songs. - -“Who played the accompaniments for you, Hubert?” said Linda. -“Somebody did, or you couldn’t have learnt them so well.” - -“Do you suppose there are no ladies in the ‘Never-Never’ country?” -said he. “Quite a mistake. People of culture abound.” - -The next day was adjudged by common consent to be spent at -Wantabalree. Miss Dacre was anxious to get home, and would by no -means consent to stay another day at Windāhgil. Mr. Hope thought he -would like to see Wantabalree, of which celebrated station he had -heard so much, and to pay his respects to the Colonel. So it was -arranged that Hubert should drive Miss Dacre and Linda, while Laura -went under Mr. Hope’s guidance in the Windāhgil trap. Mr. and Mrs. -Stamford elected to stay at home to take care of the house, and talk -quietly over Hubert’s return, personal appearance, prospects, and -generally interesting belongings. - -Arrived at Wantabalree, the Colonel met them with his usual -courteous and hospitable manner. He congratulated Hubert on his safe -return from Queensland, and hoped he had not taken up all the good -country, as it seemed to him that other people would have to -migrate, if the season did not improve. - -“Not for another year or two, Colonel, at any rate,” said Hubert, -cheerily; “you’ve plenty of water here, and Willoughby must do a -little ‘travelling’; anything’s better than throwing up the sponge.” - -“I see little else for it,” said the Colonel, who had come to wear -an anxious expression. Miss Dacre grew grave as she marked her -father’s face, but she controlled herself with an effort, as it -seemed to Hubert, and telling Linda to go into the drawing-room and -admire her flowers, followed her guests. The men remained outside -and lounged into the stable yard, where the horses and traps were -being arranged, looking about them, and chatting on indifferent -subjects before going to the house. - -“What a pretty situation you have here!” said Hope. “The -accomplished Mr. Dealerson, of whom I have heard so much, must have -been a man of taste. How picturesquely the creek winds round the -point near that splendid willow; the elevation is just sufficient, -and the flat seems made on purpose for a few fields and the -fruit-garden. The view of the distant mountain-range completes the -landscape. Capital stabling too.” - -“Oh! confound him!” growled Willoughby; “he was sharp enough to see -that a smart homestead like this was just the thing to catch -‘new-chum’ buyers. It’s not bad in its way, but I hate the whole -thing so, when I think of the price we shall have to pay for it, -that I could burn the house down with pleasure.” - -“I don’t know so much about that,” said Hope; “it doesn’t do to be -hasty in realising in stock matters any more than in purchasing. You -and Hubert had better have a good talk over accounts before I leave, -and if he can suggest anything, perhaps we may manage to tide over -for a while. He’s quite a rising man of business, I assure you.” - -“I wish to heaven the governor had remained in Sydney with my -sister, and sent me out to Queensland with him,” said the young man; -“but it’s too late to think of that now. We must make the best of -it. But I won’t stand grumbling here all day, Mr. Hope. Come in and -we’ll see if there’s any lunch to be had. ‘Sufficient for the day,’ -and so on?” - -Hubert had found his way into the drawing-room before this colloquy -had ended, and was looking over a collection of Venetian photographs -which Miss Dacre had collected during their last visit to that city -of the sea. - -“I wonder if I shall ever see the Lion of St. Mark again?” she said. -“I feel as if we were in another planet.” - -“It is difficult to say where we shall all be in a few years’ time,“ -said Hubert. ”_I_ am not going to stay here all my life. But you -won’t run away from Australia just yet, Miss Dacre?” - -“I should think not,” she replied, cheerfully; “matters don’t look -like it at present. The doubt in my mind is whether we shall ever be -able to leave it. I don’t say that I am dissatisfied, but I should -like to see the Old World again before I die.” - -“When Willoughby has made his fortune, or other things come to pass, -you will be able to go home and do all sorts of fascinating travel,” -said Hubert. “We must look forward.” - -“I feel certain you are not laughing at me, Mr. Stamford,” she said, -fixing her eyes upon him with a wistful expression; “but if I did -not know you so well I should suspect it.” - -“Nothing, of course, is farther from my thoughts,” said the young -man, meeting the gaze with equal directness; “but I really see no -reason to doubt your seeing Europe within the next five years, so -many changes take place in this Australian world of ours.” - -“Hardly such a change as that,” she replied, smiling apparently at -the absurdity of the idea; “and now I think I hear the luncheon -bell. You must have thought I meant to starve you all.” - -That no intention of this kind had actuated the fair hostess was -made apparent as they were ushered into the dining-room, a large and -handsome apartment wherein the furniture and appointments were in -keeping with the general plan of the house. Everybody was in capital -spirits; youth and hope were in the ascendant in the majority of the -party, and as their conversation became general, everybody seemed as -joyous as if Wantabalree were the best paying and the most fortunate -station in the district. - -“What a lovely place this is altogether!” said Linda. “Mr. Dealerson -must have had some good in him after all. If father and Hubert had -not been so prejudiced against him, he might have married and -settled in the district. I believe he’s not so bad-looking.” - -“I should never have come to see you, for one,” said Hubert, “if you -had been the lucky girl that carried off such a prize. But I should -like to have condemned him to work out this place, with its present -stock, in a dry season; that would have been a truly appropriate -punishment for his iniquities. The ancients used to think of fitting -fellows in another world in their own line. But this savours of -shop. Willoughby, did you get any snipe this spring?” - -“Made two or three capital bags, but they went off as soon as the -weather got dry. Hares are getting plentiful too, and I was going to -get up a couple of greyhounds, but all that sort of thing’s knocked -on the head now.” - -“Oh! nonsense; you mustn’t give up your shooting. ‘Never allow your -business to interfere with your pleasure’; we have little enough -recreation in Australia. You should have seen the brown quail in the -Mitchell grass in our new country. I used to put up bevies of them -looking like partridges. I must take some setters up next time.” - -“Isn’t the heat very dreadful up there?” inquired Miss Dacre. - -“Rather tropical,” said Hubert; “but there is a freshness in the air -that carries you through. The mosquitoes and sandflies, are perhaps -the worst evils. But with a good pisé house, which you could shut up -and keep cool, they might be greatly reduced.” - -“Then the blacks; they seem nearly as bad as the North American -Indians?” - -“Not quite. I suspect ‘Sitting Bull’ or ‘Red Cloud’ would have given -us a deal more trouble. Not but what we have to be careful. The best -way, I find, is to treat them with perfect justice, to keep your -word with them for good or evil. They learn to respect you in the -end. After a while we shall have no trouble with them.” - -During the afternoon, which was devoted to nothing in particular, a -very agreeable arrangement which leaves guests at liberty to amuse -themselves as they feel inclined, Hubert found himself in Miss -Dacre’s company at the end of the lower walk of the orchard which -followed the winding bank of the creek. - -The bank was high at this particular spot, having been partially -worn away by flood waters, leaving a wide, low shore at the opposite -side. A deep pool had been formed, which now gleamed and sparkled in -the lowered sun rays. A grand weeping-willow, self-planted, perhaps, -in the earliest days of the occupation of the station, shaded it -with trailing green streamers. - -“Wantabalree is certainly the show station of the district,” said -Hubert. “You were fortunate in some respects in having so pleasant a -home in which to make your first Australian experiences.” - -“I have been very happy here,” said she; “but that will make it all -the more painful to leave, as I fear we shall be obliged to do at no -distant period. I do not so much care for my own sake, but it will -be discouraging to Willoughby, and my father is certain to feel the -change more than any of us.” - -“Matters look bad, and we are going to have another dry season, I -believe,” replied Hubert. “I don’t like these westerly winds, and -clouds coming up without rain. Still there is hope.” - -“But had we not a drought two years before—just before my father -made this purchase?” - -“Quite true, but of late years, unfortunately, that has been no -reason why another should not follow in quick succession. It is -rather unfair of _Madre Natura_, but there is no help for it.” - -“And what shall you do at Windāhgil, for I suppose we shall all be -in the same boat?” - -“I shall persuade my father to start every sheep he has, with the -exception of the best flock, for my new country. The Wantabalree -sheep had better take the road too. I must have a talk to -Willoughby.” - -“Oh, I do so wish you would, Mr. Stamford. I am sure he and papa are -growing very troubled about our prospects. Willoughby and I can bear -all that may come, but it will be a terrible blow to poor papa.” - -“Miss Dacre, if you will permit me to confide in you—I have been -concocting a little plot. If carried out it may—I say only it -may—perhaps serve to improve the aspect of things. If you thought -the Colonel would like to consult with me and Willoughby about the -coming difficulty, I should be very glad to make the attempt.” - -“Nothing would give my father more pleasure, and, indeed, tend to -relieve his mind. I feel certain he has been anxious to consult you, -Mr. Stamford, but hardly likes to begin the subject.” - -“We must have a council of war then, which will include Mr. -Barrington Hope. He is a tower of strength, as I know by experience, -and it’s a piece of luck his being here now.” - -“We should be grateful to you all the days of our lives, you may be -sure, whatever happens, for the interest you have always shown in -our welfare. If your advice had been taken in the first instance, -all would have been well.” And here the young lady looked at Hubert -with such an approving expression of countenance, that he felt as if -he could throw up the new country and devote himself to the -Sisyphean task of getting Wantabalree out of debt, if only she would -promise to repay him by an occasional smile such as this one, the -memory of which he felt certain would haunt him for an indefinite -period. - -“I can’t, of course, guarantee success, but I think I see my way -towards lightening the ship and getting steerage way on her.” This -nautical simile had probably been derived from his late maritime -experiences, and was, perhaps, not altogether appropriate; but Miss -Dacre was evidently not by any means in a critical frame of mind, -for she again looked approvingly at him, and then led the way to the -verandah, where Laura and Willoughby, Mr. Hope and Linda, were -apparently having such an animated conversation that they seemed to -be trying who could make the most noise. - -The principal contention was whether a town or country life was the -more wholesome and enjoyable. Laura and Willoughby were in favour of -rural felicity, while Linda and Mr. Hope brought all the arguments -they could think of in favour of cities—greater stimulation of the -intellect, removal of prejudice, leaning towards altruism; in fact, -higher general development of the individual. When Miss Dacre -arrived, she, being appealed to, in the capacity of referee, -unhesitatingly gave her decision in favour of a country life, -stating her arguments so clearly that she completely turned the -scale, besides causing Hubert the keenest enjoyment by, as he -supposed, thus laying bare her own predilections. - -After this contest of wits the Colonel appeared on the scene, having -returned from his usual afternoon’s ride; and Hubert, with some -address, managed to interest him in a discussion on station -management, and the probable profits of agriculture, listening with -deference to his senior’s ideas and suggestions. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - -Before the Windāhgil party returned on the following day a council -of war was held, at the conclusion of which the Colonel’s face -assumed a very different expression from that which it habitually -wore. The four men met in his study, where the accounts, assets, and -liabilities were laid before the financial authority, who scanned -them with keen and practised eye. - -After what appeared to the others, and especially to Willoughby and -his father, an astonishingly short examination, he raised his head -and asked these pertinent questions: “I see your next bill, £12,437 -14_s._ 10_d._, falls due in March,” he said. “After that, there is -nothing more to be met but station expenses for another year, -against which there will, of course, be the wool clip. You have -54,786 sheep, more or less, on the run. Is that so?” - -“Half of which are to die this winter, Hubert says. Oh, yes—they’re -all in the paddocks,” replied the younger Dacre, in a tone of -reckless despair, while the Colonel’s face set with steadfast -resolve, yet showed by the twitching of his lips how severe was the -repression of feeling—how tense the strain of anxiety. - -“Never mind about that just yet,” said Barrington Hope. “We’ll see -into the available assets first. About this next bill, Colonel; how -do you propose to meet it?” - -“By the sale of sheep, I suppose. There is no other way. And if this -drought comes to pass I am informed they will be next to valueless. -How is the next one—of equal amount, and another still, to be paid? -In such a case I see nothing but ruin staring me in the face. Good -God! that I should have brought my poor children to such a pass!” - -Here the brave soldier, who had fought with cheerful courage on more -than one battle-field, when comrades lay dead and dying around -him—who had been the first man across the breach when the rebel -artillery were mowing down his regiment like swathes of meadow grass -at Delhi, appeared quite unmanned. - -“It will never do to give up the fight before the end of the day, -Colonel,” said Mr. Hope, gently. “As a military man, you must know -that reserves may come up at any moment. I will promise to give you -a decided answer at the end of our colloquy. But we must move -according to the rules of war.” - -“You must pardon me, my dear sir,” said the Colonel, with a faint -smile. “I trust not to embarrass the court again; but the fact is, I -am a child in commercial affairs, and the probable loss of my -children’s whole fortune touches me too acutely.” - -“Have _you_ any advice to offer, Hubert?” queried Hope. “I -understand we are all here on terms of friendly equality.” - -“Yes, I have,” said the young man, with an air of decision. “You can -judge of its value. All the Windāhgil sheep, with the exception of a -couple of flocks of studs, start for our Queensland country in -January. The dry belt likely to be affected by the coming drought is -a narrow one not more than two hundred miles wide, and as the sheep -are fairly strong now, though they won’t remain so, they should -cross that with trifling loss. Donald Greenhaugh, a first-class man, -has agreed to go in charge. Sheep are sheep over there now for -stocking up new country, and we can sell to advantage what we do not -want for Windāhgil Downs. The larger the number sent in one overland -journey like this, the smaller the expense of droving per head. I -propose that Wantabalree should be cleared in the same way. -Willoughby can go in charge of his own sheep, and we can share the -expense.” - -“I see nothing to prevent your idea from being carried out,” said -Mr. Hope. “I am aware that sheep of good quality, as the Wantabalree -sheep proverbially are, are scarce, and saleable at high rates, in -the new country. The main thing will be to have a first-class road -overseer.” - -“Greenhaugh has been out with an exploring party over all that -country,” said Hubert; “and as a head drover is worth his weight in -gold. A sober, steady fellow, too, and a good hand with men. No -better bushman anywhere.” - -“I’m ready to start next week,” said Willoughby, with the fire of -ardent youth in his kindling eye. “I never expected to have such a -chance. But—” and here his face became grave and thoughtful—“what do -you say, father? Will you and Rosalind be able to get on without -me?” - -“We must try, my boy. The time will pass heavily, I doubt not; but,” -and here he walked over to Hubert, and put his hand on his firm -shoulder, “your father did not grudge you in the path of honourable -ambition, nor can I be more selfish. God bless you both, my boys! -and bring you safe back once more to gladden our hearts. It seems to -me as if Providence had decided this issue, and that I have little -hand in it.” - -“I wish now to understand, Colonel Dacre,” said Hope; “if, upon -their arrival in Queensland, you will place 20,000 sheep in our -hands for sale—at such prices as may be then ruling—and whether by -the terms of your mortgage to Mr. Dealerson—who has of course, taken -care to tie you up as tightly as he could—you have the power of -disposing of so many.” - -“It so happens that I have permission to reduce the stock—I believe -that’s the expression—by just such a number,” said the Colonel more -cheerfully; “and I most willingly invest you with the power of -disposing of them.” - -“Then I will take upon myself to state that the Austral Agency -Company will guarantee to take up your bill next coming due, and to -provide you with funds to carry you over the next shearing, when we -may perhaps make a more complete and satisfactory arrangement.” - -The Colonel gazed at Mr. Hope with an expression as of one not fully -realising the effect of the words he heard with his outward ears. -Then suddenly stepping forward, he stretched out his hand, and -taking that of the younger man wrung it silently. - -He retreated to his chair, where he sat down with an expression of -relief too deep for words. He then left, apparently, all further -transactions of the interview in the hands of the “coming race.” - -They began to go into detail a little, as if about _un fait -accompli_, Hubert, more particularly, talking rapidly, in order to -cover any appearance of awkwardness on the part of his hosts. - -“You know,” he said, “that by doing this travelling business, we -‘hedge,’ so to speak, instead of standing to lose on the double -event of a dry season and a panic in the money market, more than any -of us can afford. If the weather breaks in February, of course we -needn’t have started, but we can’t lose anything, as our sheep will -be regularly run after when we get them over, and at high prices -too. They talk of maiden ewes being worth a pound from the shears, -and anything else fifteen shillings, while if it holds dry for three -or four months here, sheep will have to be given away, or next thing -to it.” - -“I suppose I shall have to hire a lot of shepherds,” said -Willoughby; “that will be a nuisance, won’t it?” - -“If I were you I’d leave all that to Greenhaugh; he’s accustomed to -these fellows, and knows how to talk to them on the road, which you -don’t. You’d better, ostensibly, be second in command of the -expedition. You won’t have much responsibility, and will be able to -pick up heaps of experience. All you will have to find will be your -own horses. He’ll arrange everything else and keep the accounts of -rations and wages, which you and I can settle when you get there.” - -“I suppose there’s a strong probability of a drought setting in,” -said Mr. Hope; “if not, you will be rather premature.” - -“The more I see of the weather signs, the more certain I am that we -are on the edge of another drought, perhaps worse than the last,” -said Hubert. “You’ll see that a great many people will hang on, -expecting it to break up; then, making sure of getting the ‘tail -end’ of the tropical rains, and generally trusting to the doctrine -of chances until their sheep get too weak to travel, and then—--” - -“And what then?” asked Willoughby. “I haven’t had the pleasure of -witnessing a dry season as yet.” - -Hubert smiled grimly. “You will thank your stars the Wantabalree -sheep cleared out in time. You would never have forgotten it as long -as you lived. Some squatters will lose half their stock, some -two-thirds, some even more. A man told me he lost a hundred thousand -sheep in the last drought. But _he_ could afford it.” - -“If it’s going to be so bad, what will your governor and mine do -with the sheep we leave behind, for we must leave some.” - -“They will have all the grass and water to themselves, which will -give them a chance, and then, if it gets very cruel, they must cut -scrub and oak for them.” - -“Cut the trees down!” said Willoughby, with astonishment. “I never -heard of such a thing!” - -“You’ll find out everything in time,” said Hubert. “‘The brave old -oak’ has an antipodean signification here. I don’t know what we -should do without him in a dry time. I’ve known sheep kept in good -condition that hadn’t seen grass for eighteen months.” - -Before the drive back, which took place after lunch, in the midst of -pathetic leave-takings between the Windāhgil girls and Miss Dacre, -the latter young lady took an opportunity of expressing to Hubert -her sincere gratitude for his organisation of the opportune alliance -which was, so to speak, to raise the siege of Wantabalree. - -“It has made dearest papa quite young again,” she said. “For weeks -he has not been able to sleep at night, but used to get up and go -wandering up and down the garden. I really began to fear for his -reason. And now he seems quite a different man. I am so happy myself -at the change for the better, that I cannot feel properly sorry that -dear Willoughby is going away from us.” - -“He is going among friends, at any rate, Miss Dacre,” said Hubert, -pressing the young lady’s hand warmly in the agitation of the -moment. “He will be well looked after, rely upon it. I feel certain -it will be for everybody’s benefit in the long run.” - -“I shall always think that you and that good genius, Mr. Hope, have -stood between us and ruin,” said she, and here her bright, steadfast -eyes were somewhat dimmed. “If papa does not say all that is in his -heart, believe me that we are not ungrateful.” - -“_Nothing_ could ever lead me to think that,” said Hubert meeting -her eyes with a glance which expressed more than that simple -sentence, if freely translated. “Whatever happens, I am more than -repaid by your approval.” - -By this time Whalebone and Whipcord, harnessed up and having their -heads turned homeward, began to exhibit signs of impatience, which -caused Linda to call out to Hubert that she was sure Whipcord would -throw himself down and break the pole if they didn’t start at once, -which appalling contingency cut short the interview, to Hubert’s -secret indignation. This expressed itself in letting them out with a -will and quitting Wantabalree at the rate of fourteen miles an hour. - -Some people would have felt nervous at proceeding along a winding, -narrow bush road, well furnished with stumps, at such an express -train rate, but the sure hand and steady eye of Hubert Stamford, in -combination with the light mouths and regular if speedy movement of -the well-matched horses, engendered the most absolute confidence in -his driving. - -“What do you think of bush life generally, Mr. Hope?” said -Laura—after the first rush of the excitable goers had steadied into -a twelve-mile-an-hour trot—“and how do you like Wantabalree?” - -“I think the Wantabalree people perfect in their own way, worthy to -be neighbours of Windāhgil,” he added with a slight inclination of -his head. “A man could live there very happily, ‘with one fair -spirit to be his minister,’ if Miss Dacre would condescend to the -office. It’s a lovely verandah to read in. It would be like the days -of Thalaba, while it lasted.” - -“And why should it not last?” demanded Laura. “The bush appears to -me the place of all others where the feelings and emotions are the -most permanent and deep-seated.” - -Barrington Hope fixed his eyes upon her as she spoke with a gaze -wistful and almost melancholy in its earnestness. - -“Can anything endure that is fair, joyous, dreamlike, in this -uncertain life of ours?” he said. “Is the ideal existence realised -for most of us, or, if so, does it continue? You are more fortunate -than I in your experiences, if such is your belief.” - -“Surely you have no reason to talk of despondency,” said she, -turning towards him her bright face, in which the summer-time seemed -idealised. “You, who have made a success in your profession, and -whom everybody talks of with—with, I won’t say admiration, it might -make you conceited—but high approval.” - -“I have done fairly well, I _suppose_,” he said. “I may take it as -the natural consequence of twenty years’ hard, unrelieved work. I -have coined my brain, my very heart’s blood, for it; and I will not -say but that I have had my reward in a proved success and high -consideration. But, at times, a feeling comes over me of unrest and -of doubt, well-nigh despair, as to the reality of human -happiness—the value of success—against which I can scarcely defend -myself.” - -“You have been working too hard lately. Reaction has set in. In old -days Hubert used to suffer so, occasionally doubting whether life -was worth living, &c. But with men it is generally a temporary -ailment. You must take life easily for the next few weeks, and, like -the old farm labourer in the village church, ‘think about -nothing’—Linda and I must cultivate part-singing, and improve our -acquaintance with Wagner, now that we have the benefit of your -criticism.” - -“It is a passing weakness, I suppose,” he said; “still, you would -wonder at its intensity. But I didn’t come here to bore you with my -whims and fancies. One thing I shall carry away as a pleasant -souvenir—that Hubert and I have been able to lighten the load on -poor old Colonel Dacre’s heart.” - -“I _am_ charmed beyond measure,” said Laura. “Hubert told me -something—though he is such a close creature when he is speaking -about himself that I could get next to nothing out of him. -Willoughby will be able to get the sheep away to Queensland, I -suppose, with ours, and they may not be ruined after all.” - -“They will have a struggle, but I really believe the station will -pull through with Hubert’s assistance and advice. If anything -serious does happen at Wantabalree, it will not be for want of all -the aid that an energetic young friend can furnish. I can see as -much as that.” - -“And so can I,” said Laura; “he could find no better or sweeter -reason if he looked for a century.” - -Linda and Hubert, according to their wont and usage, were embarked -in such an animated argument that it is probable they did not hear -this last confidential reference; more especially as—perhaps for the -greater convenience of separate converse—the speakers’ voices had -become somewhat lowered, and Hubert’s attention was partly taken up -with his horses. - -The twenty miles were accomplished in less than two hours. The -horses in as hard condition upon the now partially-dried summer -grasses as if they had been stabled, apparently treated the drive as -the merest trifle, trotting off down the paddock, when released from -harness, apparently as free from fatigue as if they had not gone a -mile. - -“I must say your bush horses surprise me,” said Mr. Hope. “They are -like Arabs of the desert for speed and hardihood.” - -“These two are a little out of the common,” said Hubert; “not -plentiful here or anywhere else.” - - * * * * * - -The merry Christmastide was nearly spent—a season fully enjoyed in -those newer Englands, which are growing fast and blooming fair -beneath the Southern Cross, in despite of the red summer sun, and -brown crisp pastures—a blessed time of rest from toil, “surcease of -sorrow,” gathering of friends and kinsfolk. Barrington Hope had -thoroughly enjoyed his holiday; more, he averred than on any -previous vacation of his life. There had been walks, drives and -rides, picnics to the limestone caves in the vicinity, where vast -halls were explored by the light of torches, stalactites brought -home in triumph, and wondrous depths of gloom and primæval chaos -penetrated; fishing parties on the river, where, although the water -trickled faintly over the gravelly shallows, the wide reaches were -deep and sport-permitting. Occasional visits to Mooramah township, -their communication with the outer world, helped to fill up the -term, and drive away the dreadful thought, uppermost in the hearts -of the Windāhgil family, that Hubert was so soon to leave them for -the far north land. - -As soon as Christmas was well over the serious work of the year—only -interrupted by this “truce of God”—began again with even greater -energy; the industrial battle, never long pretermitted in Australia, -raged furiously. So there was great mustering on Windāhgil and -Wantabalree. Counting of sheep and tar-branding of the same with the -travelling “T,” hiring of shepherds and “knock about” men. Purchase -of rations, tools, horses, drays, harness, hobbles, “bells, bells, -bells”—as Linda quoted—in short, the thousand and one road -requisites for a long overland journey. - -Towards the end of January Mr. Donald Greenhaugh arrived, riding one -serviceable horse, and leading another, whereon, disposed over a -pack saddle, was all his worldly wealth deposited. A keen-eyed, mild -voiced Scottish-Australian, sun-bronzed, and lean as an Arab, who -looked as if the desert sun had dried all superfluous moisture out -of his wiry frame, he superintended the preparations at Windāhgil in -a quiet, superior sort of way, occasionally offering suggestions, -but chiefly leaving Hubert to manage matters as he thought fit. He -also found time to go over to Wantabalree, where he remained a week, -meeting with apparently greater exercise for his generalship. - -At length the great day of departure arrived. The first flock of two -thousand took the road through the north Windāhgil gate, followed by -a second, at a decent interval, until the whole thirty thousand -sheep passed out. Next day the advanced guard of the Wantabalree -contingent showed themselves—Greenhaugh having decided to keep a -day’s march between them. Forty thousand of these came by. The fat -and saleable sheep of both stations had been retained. After these -had been sold in the autumnal markets there would be but a small and -manageable balance on either station. - -The Colonel came as far as Windāhgil, and even a stage further, with -his daughter, to see his boy off. They were dreadfully downhearted -and saddened in appearance as they called at Windāhgil on their -homeward route, but cheered up a little under the attentions of -sympathising friends. Hubert had remained behind, not choosing to -follow for another week. He was already beginning to assume the air -of a large operator and successful explorer. “Greenhaugh can do all -that business as well or better than I can,” he said. “It’s no use -paying a man and doing the work yourself; I can catch them up easily -before they get to Banda.” - -“Then we might have had Willoughby for another week,” said Miss -Dacre, with a slightly reproachful air. - -“I don’t suppose it would have made much difference,” admitted -Hubert; “but it is perhaps as well that he made the start with the -sheep. He has a larger lot to look after; I don’t know but that it’s -as well to have the wrench at once, and get it over—like a double -tooth, you know.” - -“It’s the most philosophical way to look at it,” said the girl, -smiling through her tears, “and no tongue can tell the comfort it -has been to us to know that matters are in a comparatively -favourable train. I must not weary you with protestations, but papa -and I can never adequately express our gratitude.” - -“That could be done easily enough,” thought the young man; but he -said: “At present it’s only a case of good intentions; we must wait -to see how they turn out. How will you and the Colonel get on by -yourselves?” - -“Better than I at first thought; Willoughby left us our working -overseer, who will do excellently to look after a smaller number of -sheep. It will just give papa exercise, and occupation to help him -to manage them, he says. Laura and Linda must be good neighbours, -and perhaps Mr. Stamford will come over now and then and indulge -papa with a game of whist.” - -“I will undertake everything,” said Hubert, “for our people, but you -and the Colonel must reciprocate. If both families make common cause -till ‘Johnny comes marching home’—I mean Willoughby—you will find -the time pass more quickly than you anticipate.” - - * * * * * - -Those last days of a pleasant holiday time, what an element of -sadness pervades them. How swiftly they fly! Ah, me! The flowers -fade, the sky clouds over as if at the touch of an untoward -magician. The land of faery recedes—the region of plain prose, of -arduous effort, and heroic but dreary self-abnegation looms -painfully near. Much, however, of this sombre aspect of the -inevitable is relieved in early youth by the kindly glamour of high -hope, and the ardent imagination of the as yet successful aspirant. -For him the forest gloom is but the high road to the castle of the -enchanted princess; the sternest tourney is more than recompensed by -the smiles of his queen of beauty; the burning summer day, the drear -winter night, but aids to fortune and accessories to boundless -wealth. - -So, for Barrington Hope and Hubert Stamford, the tranquil days came -and went, scarce tinged with melancholy, till the fateful morn of -departure arrived; before noon Windāhgil was left desolate and -forsaken of its heroes. Hubert fared forth along the north-west -trail, bound for the sea-like plains of the Lower Warroo, where the -wild orange flowers bloom on their lonely sand islands, bright with -glossy-leaved shrubs; where the emu rears her brood undisturbed -under the sad-hued myall, that waves her slender streamers and -whispers ghost-like at midnight to the pitiless desert moon. - -Mr. Barrington Hope, on the other hand, betook himself by rail to -the metropolis, to plunge once more, with the eagerness of a strong -swimmer, into the great ocean of speculative finance, which there -“heaves and seethes alway.” But before he departed he had transacted -a rather important interview, in which Laura Stamford was the person -chiefly interested; had, indeed, promised to revisit Windāhgil -before the winter ended. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - -Local critics were not lacking around Mooramah, as in other places. -They failed not to make unfavourable comments upon Hubert’s decided -course of action. They were pleased to say “that young man was going -too fast”—was leading his father into hazardous speculations; all -this new country that such a fuss was made about was too far off to -pay interest upon the capital for years and years to come; the -Austral Agency Company had better mind what they were about, or they -would drop something serious if they went on backing every boy that -wanted to take up outside country, instead of making the most of -what his family had and helping his parents at home. As for young -Dacre, he would most likely get his sheep eaten by the blacks and -himself speared, as he knew nothing about the bush, and hardly could -tell the difference between a broken-mouthed ewe and a weaner. -Besides, the season might “turn round” after all—there was plenty of -time for rain yet. Most likely it would come in February, as it had -often done before. Travelling sheep was a most expensive game, and -you were never done putting your hand in your pocket.” - -Thus argued the unambitious, stay-at-home, easy-going section of -society which obtains in rural Australia in almost the same -proportion and degree that it does in English counties. In the -older-settled portions of the land one may discern the same tendency -to over-crowding the given area with unnecessary adults, procuring -but a bare subsistence, narrowing with each generation as in -Britain, where sons of proprietors are too often contented to sink -somewhat in the social scale rather than forego the so-called -“comforts” of civilised life. The poorly-paid curate, the Irish -squireen, “Jock, the Laird’s brother,” and the French _hobereau_, so -cordially hated by the peasantry before the Revolution, are examples -of this class. - -And, in the older-settled portions of Australia are to be found far -too many men of birth and breeding who are contented to abide in the -enjoyment of the small amenities of country town life, to sink down -to the positions of yeomen, farmers, and tenants, rather than turn -their faces to the broad desert as their fathers did before them, -and carve out for themselves, even at the cost of peril and -privation, a heritage worthy of a race of sea kings and conquerors. - -Hubert Stamford did not belong, by any means, to the contented -mediocrities. Willoughby Dacre was a kindred spirit. So the two -young men fared cheerfully forth across the dusty, thirsty zone, -beyond which lay the Promised Land. Hard work and wearisome it was, -in a sense, but held nothing to daunt strong men in the full vigour -of early manhood. The days were hot, and Willoughby’s English skin -peeled off in patches for the first week or two from the exposed -portions of his person. But cooler airs came before midnight, and -the appetites of both after long days in the saddle were surprising. -The sheep, being in good condition at starting, bore the forced -marches, which were necessary, fairly well. Donald Greenhaugh seemed -to know every creek, water-course, and spring in the whole country. -And on one fine day Willoughby pulled up his horse, and in a tone of -extreme surprise exclaimed, “Why, there’s grass!” pointing to a fine -green tuft of the succulent _Bromus Mitchelli_. It was even so. They -had struck the “rain line,” marked as with a measuring tape. -Henceforth all was peace and plenty with the rejoicing flocks, which -grew strong and even fat as they fed onward through a land of -succulent herbage and full-fed streams. - -“Well, Willoughby, old man; what do you think of this?” asked Hubert -one evening, as they sat on a log before their tent and watched the -converging flocks feeding into camp; marked also the fantastic -summits of isolated volcanic peaks which stood like watch-towers -amid a grass ocean waving billowy in the breeze. “Do you think we -did well to cut the painter? How do you suppose all these sheep -would have looked at Windāhgil and Wantabalree?” - -“They’ve had no rain yet,” said Willoughby. “In that letter I got at -the last township we passed, the governor said there hadn’t been a -shower since I left. It’s nearly three months now, and we should -hardly have had a sheep to our name by this time.” - -“There’ll be some awful losses in the district,” said Hubert. “Men -_will_ put off clearing out till too late. My own idea is that this -will be a worse drought all down the Warroo than the last one. Our -people will make shift to feed the few sheep we have left, thank -goodness! And we have enough here to stock more than one run or two -either. Windāhgil Downs will carry a hundred thousand sheep if it -will ten. All we have to do now is to breed up. That’s plain -sailing.” - -“I wish we had some Wantabalree Downs ready to take up,” said -Willoughby, regretfully. “If we hadn’t those beastly bills yet to -pay, we might have done something in that way too.” - -“Wait till we’ve settled a bit, and have landed the sheep all safe,” -said Hubert. “That will be stage the first. After we ‘see’ that, we -must ‘go one better.’ Barrington Hope is a good backer, and outside -country is to be had cheap just now.” - -Events—in that sort of contrary way which occasionally obtains in -this world—went far to justify the bold policy of this confident -young man, who quietly ignored his elders, and to confound the wise, -represented by the cautious croakers who stayed at home and -disparaged him. - -There had occurred a drought of crushing severity but three years -since, and only one “good”—that is, rainy season had intervened, so -rendering it unlikely, and in a sense unreasonable and outrageous, -as one exasperated impeacher of Providence averred, that another -year of famine should so soon succeed. Nevertheless, the rain came -not. The long, hot summer waned. Autumn lingered with sunny days and -cold nights. Winter too, with hard frosts, with black wailing winds, -that seemed to mourn over the dead earth and its dumbly dying -tribes. _But no rain!_ No rain! The havoc which then devastated all -the great district watered by the Warroo and its tributaries was -piteous, and terrible to behold. - -Rich and poor, small and great, owners of stock fared alike. A herd -of five thousand head of cattle died on Murragulmerang to the last -beast. Eight thousand at Wando. John Stokes, Angus Campbell, Patrick -Murphy, struggling farmers, lost every milch cow, every sheep, every -horse. They were too short of cash to travel. Their small pastures -of a few hundred acres were as dust and ashes. Too careless to -provide a stock of hay and straw, selling all when prices were good, -and “chancing it,” they lost hoof and horn. Mammoth squatters were -short—fifty thousand sheep—seventy thousand—a hundred thousand. -Smaller graziers with fifteen or twenty thousand, lost two-thirds, -three-fourths, four-fifths, as the case may be. Ruin and desolation -overspread the land. Waggon loads of bales stripped from the skins -of starved sheep—“dead wool” as it was familiarly called—were seen -unseasonably moving along the roads in all directions. - -From all this death and destruction Hubert’s family and the -Wantabalree people had been preserved, as they now gratefully -remembered, by his prompt yet well-considered action. Harold -Stamford, as he watched his stud flocks, fairly nourished and -thriving from constant change of pasture which the empty paddocks -permitted, thanked God in his heart for the son who had always been -the mainstay of his father’s house, while the Colonel was never -weary of invoking blessings on Hubert’s head, and wishing that it -had been his lot to have been presented with a Commission in the -Imperial army, in which so bold and cool a subaltern would have been -certain to have distinguished himself. - -“Better as it is, father,” said Miss Dacre; “he might have sold out -and lost his money in a bad station. Except for the honour and -glory, I think squatting is the better profession, after all; if -Willoughby only turns out successful, I shall think Australia the -finest country in the world.” - -“We shall have to live in it, my darling, for a long time, as far as -I see, so we may as well think so,” said the Colonel. “Suppose we -drive over to Windāhgil, and have another rubber of whist? Stamford -plays a sound game, though he’s too slow with his trumps; and Laura -has quite a talent for it—such a memory too!” - - * * * * * - -Many games of whist were played. Much quiet interchange of hopes and -fears, discussions of small events and occurrences, such as make up -the sum of rural daily life, had taken place between the two -families ere the famine year ended. It left a trail of ruin, not -wholly financial. Old properties had been sold, high hopes laid low, -never to arise; strong hearts broken. “Mourning and lamentation and -woe” had followed each month, and still Nature showed no sign of -relenting pity. - -Through all this devastation the life of the dwellers at Windāhgil -had been comparatively tranquil; if not demonstratively joyous, yet -free from serious mishap or anxiety. The tidings from the far -country were eminently satisfactory, and as regular as circumstances -would permit. - -“Windāhgil Downs” was quoted as one of the crack stations of North -Queensland, and in order to devote his whole attention to that -principality in embryo, Hubert had sold his share in the first -station purchased to Willoughby on long credit. All the Wantabalree -sheep were there, and doing splendidly. Mr. Delamere and Willoughby -were sworn friends, and whenever Hubert could get a chance to “come -in” Delamere would take his place at Windāhgil Downs, and leave -Willoughby in charge at the home station. Added to this, Mr. Hope -had “taken over” the Wantabalree account, and saw no difficulty in -providing for future payment and working expenses. - -This was good news in every sense of the word. The Colonel became so -exceedingly cheerful and sanguine, that his daughter again asserted -that he must be thinking of a stepmother for her. In which behalf -she implored Laura and Linda to continue their complaisance towards -him, lest he should in despair go farther afield, and so be -appropriated by some enterprising “daughter of Heth.” - -“That is all very well,” said Linda; “I suppose it’s a quiet way of -warning us off. But here we are living in a kind of pastoral -nunnery, with no society to speak of, and nothing to do. The -atmosphere’s pervaded with _bouquet de merino_, for though ours are -all right, I feel certain I can catch the perfume of Mr. Dawdell’s -dead sheep across the river. Now, why shouldn’t I take compassion on -the Colonel? I like mature men, and can’t bear boys. I should rather -enjoy ordering a superior girl like you about. Wouldn’t it be grand, -Laura?” - -“I have no doubt Rosalind will grant you her full permission,” said -Laura, “if you think such a little chit as you is likely to attract -a man like Colonel Dacre.” - -“Little chit, indeed!” said Linda, indignantly. “That’s the _very -reason_. It would be my youth, and freshness, and general stupidity -(in the ways of the world) that would attract him. Oh, dear! think -of the white satin, too! I should look so lovely in white satin with -a Honiton lace veil and a train.” Then Linda began to walk up and -down the room in a stately manner, which created a burst of laughter -and general hilarity. - -Now that fortune had taken it into her head to be kind, she, like -other personages of her sex, became almost demonstrative in her -attentions. Every letter from Queensland contained news of a -gratifying and exhilarating nature. Hubert had heard of some -“forfeited” country, of which he had informed Willoughby, who, -having gone out with the requisite number of sheep, blackfellows, -and shepherds, had “taken it up.” He expected in a year or so to -sell a portion of it, there being about a thousand square miles -altogether, and thus help to clear off the Wantabalree account. As -soon as they got it into working order they would sell Delamere and -Dacre’s home station, with twenty thousand sheep, and put all their -capital into Glastonbury, as Mr. Delamere had chosen to name the new -property. - -Hubert had several times been offered a high price for Windāhgil -Downs, but he was not disposed to sell on any terms, being bent on -stocking it up and improving it, so as fully to develop its -capacity. “Some day, when the projected railway from Roma comes -through, we’ll have a syndicate formed to buy it,” Hubert said. “In -the meantime, there’s a few thousand acres of freehold to pick up -round old Windāhgil.” - -“All this was very well,” said the dwellers in the old homes; “but -were the young men going to stay away for ever? They might just as -well be in England. Surely, now that the season had changed and -everything was going on so prosperously, they could afford two or -three months’ time to see their relatives.” - -This view of the case was pressed upon Hubert’s attention in several -of Laura’s letters. Linda went so far as to threaten that she would, -in default of Hubert’s paying attention to her next letter, invent -an admirer of distinguished appearance for Miss Dacre, which -harrowing contingency might serve to bring back the wanderer. - -But there be many important, and, indeed, indispensable duties in -new country. Men are scarce. Responsibilities are heavy. Risks -abound. The captain and the first mate cannot leave the ship, be the -inducements ever so great, until the anchor is down. Some day, -however, the commander dons his shore-going “togs,” frock coat, tall -hat, gloves, and all the rest of it, and goes in for a little -well-earned enjoyment. - -So, as again the summer days drew near, word came that matters had -so moulded themselves that Hubert and Willoughby were on the -homeward track. The “home station” of Delamere and Dacre had been -sold to Messrs. Jinks and Newboy with thirty-three thousand sheep at -a satisfactory price (_vide_ the _Aramac Arrow_), as the energetic -proprietors had concluded to concentrate their capital upon their -magnificent newly taken up property of Glastonbury. - -Mr. Delamere was to locate himself thereon, in the absence of his -partner, while Donald Greenhaugh would be left in charge of -Windāhgil Downs, now pretty well in working order. Hubert and -Willoughby would come down from Rockhampton by steamer to Sydney, -and might be expected to be home in a month or six weeks at -farthest. This promise they faithfully carried out, and by a -remarkable coincidence, Mr. Barrington Hope arranged to have a short -holiday, and come up to Windāhgil with them. - -There _is_ a little true happiness in the world, however -hard-hearted materialists and cynical poets affect to deny the fact. -There might have been an approximation in other young persons’ -lives; to the state of blissful content in which the two families -were steeped to the lips on the arrival of the long-absent heroes, -but no conceivable satisfaction here below could have exceeded it. - -The Colonel kept walking round his son, taking in every personal -detail with unflagging interest for hours and hours, as Miss Dacre -averred; she was positive he never took his eyes off him, except -when he retired to bed, for a whole week afterwards. - -Laura and Linda declared Hubert had grown bigger, taller, handsomer, -older—in short, had in every way improved. Miss Dacre, when called -upon to confirm the decision, seemed to have a slight difficulty in -putting her opinion into suitable form, but it was understood to be -on the whole favourable. At any rate, the object of all this -affectionate interest had reason so to believe. - -Mr. Barrington Hope was surprised to find both home stations alive -and kicking—so to speak—after the terrific ordeal which they had -undergone. But, as he remarked, understocking was a more scientific -mode of management than most squatters would allow. It was many a -year since the paddocks on either station had looked so well. As to -the non-wool-bearing inhabitants, he was lost in astonishment at -their brilliant appearance after the deprivation of so many of the -comforts of life. - -“We were sorely tempted to go away to Sydney during the worst part -of the drought,” said Laura. “Father gave us leave at the end of one -terrible month, when we had not tasted milk, butter, or any decent -meat. But as Mr. Dacre and Hubert were living on salt beef and -‘pig’s face’ (_Mesembryanthemum_) when last heard from, and risking -their lives as well—moreover, as Rosalind wouldn’t hear of leaving -the Colonel—we determined to bear our share of discomfort also.” - -“I declare I grew quite nice and thin,” said Linda, who was -sometimes uneasy about a possibly redundant figure; “mine was just -what the old novelists used to call ‘a slight, but rounded form.’ -Laura and poor Rosalind fell off dreadfully, though. No vegetables -either. We were reduced to eating an onion one day with positive -relish. Father said it was medicinally necessary.” - -“Good heavens, if I had had the least idea that matters were so -bad,” said Mr. Hope, glancing at Laura with a look of the tenderest -compassion, “I should have insisted upon everybody migrating to -Sydney, and come up in person to take charge, or done something -desperate. I should indeed.” - -“That would have been a last resource,” said Hubert, laughing. -“Fancy the Austral Agency Company, with the manager ruralising at -such a time! That would have caused a financial earthquake, which -would have been more serious than the absence of milk and butter and -a short supply of vegetables. Never mind, it was only a temporary -inconvenience—much to be lamented, doubtless—but everybody looks -very nice, notwithstanding.” - -“I suppose we can put up with the old place for a few weeks longer?” -interposed Mr. Stamford. “After Christmas, as we’ve all been such -good boys and girls, I think we’re due for another trip to Sydney. I -want to see the pantomime, for one. Miss Dacre requires change of -air. I’m not sure that the climate of Tasmania or Melbourne wouldn’t -brace us all up after the rather—well, not particularly exciting -life we’ve had for the last year.” - -“Oh! you dear old father,” said Linda; “you’re a man of the most -original ideas and splendid ingenuity. You’ve divined our inmost -thoughts intuitively.” - -With such a prospect before them, the members of both families -endured the unmistakably warm weather which generally precedes -Christmas with philosophical composure. Indeed, so extremely -contented were they with the existing state of affairs, that Linda -vowed it was hardly worth while going away at all. This unnaturally -virtuous state of mind was, however, combated by the majority, who -possibly had reasons of their own for desiring to wander for a -season far from their usual surroundings, for early in the first -week of the new year the _Mooramah Independent, and Warroo, Eyall, -and Bundaburhamah Advertiser_ contained this wildly interesting -announcement:— - - - “MARRIAGES. - -“On the 3rd January, by the Rev. Edward Chalfont, at St. John’s -Church, Mooramah, Hubert, eldest son of Harold Stamford, Esq., of -Windāhgil, to Rosalind, only daughter of Lieutenant-Colonel Rupert -Dacre, of Wantabalree, late of H.M. 83rd Regiment. At the same time -and place, Barrington, second son of Commander Collingwood Hope, -R.N., to Laura, eldest daughter of Harold Stamford, Esq., of -Windāhgil.” - - -These momentous events were not wholly unexpected. It may be -imagined how the church at Mooramah was crowded on that day. It was -not a particularly small one either, having been built mainly -through the exertions of an energetic young clergyman, who did not -allow himself to be discouraged by the fact that a considerable debt -thereon still remained unpaid. So there was not a seat, or half a -seat, to be had inside, while a much larger congregation than usual -stood around the porch and entrance doors. School children strewed -flowers on the pathway of the happy brides, and none of the usual -ceremonies were omitted. - -As it had not rained for three months, and apparently was not likely -to do so for three more, the old-word proverb, “happy is the bride -that the sun shines on,” received most literal fulfilment. However, -the near prospect of ocean breeze and plashing wavelets sustained -them amid the too ardent sun rays. Hubert, as a local celebrity, -came in for a certain amount of guarded approval, and, in spite of -the misgivings with which his Napoleonic policy had been regarded, -it was conceded that “he looked twice the man” since his departure -for foreign parts. Rosalind Dacre quietly, though becomingly, -dressed, on that account was thought to have scarcely paid due and -befitting regard to her serious and sacred duty as a bride. But as -to Laura, there was no thought of dispraise or any, the faintest, -doubt. Universally admired and beloved, the flower of a family not -less popular than respected in the district, each one in that -crowded building seemed to take a personal pride in her day of -maiden triumph. Barrington Hope, radiantly happy and enjoying the -prestige of a distinguished stranger, also received the highest -compliments of the spectators by being declared to be worthy of the -belle of Mooramah. - -The happy couples departed by train to Melbourne, _en route_ for -Tasmania, that favoured isle where the summer of Britain is -reproduced with the improved conditions of assured fine weather, and -a less inconvenient proximity to the Pole. There annually do the -desert-worn pilgrims from the tropic north and central wastes of the -Australian continent resort for coolness, greenery, and agreeable -society, as to the garden of Armida. Thus, in those rare intervals -when they were not engaged in gazing on the perfections of their -brides, were Hubert Stamford and Barrington Hope enabled to indulge -in a little pioneer talk, and to listen to far-off echoes from the -wild scenes which the former had so lately quitted. - -Mr. and Mrs. Stamford, with Linda, remained for a few days longer -before they took wing for the metropolis, leaving behind the Colonel -and Willoughby, who elected to remain at home in charge of both -stations. They arrived in Sydney just in time to take leave of their -friends, the Grandisons. Chatsworth had been let for a term of -years, and preparations were complete for their going to live upon -one of the station properties. - -“The fact is, my dear fellow,” said Mr. Grandison, “that my wife and -I have resolved to take these younger children up into the bush and -live there quietly with them till their education is finished. We -must try if possible to bring them up in an atmosphere untainted by -fashionable folly and excitement. It has been the ruin (at least, I -think so) of the older ones. Now that Josie has married—--” - -“What! Josie married?” exclaimed Mr. Stamford. “I never heard of it. -You astonish me!” - -“Married, indeed,” said Mrs. Grandison, who now joined them; “and a -pretty match she has made of it. Not that there’s anything against -the young man—he’s two or three years younger than she is—except -that he’s rather stupid, and hasn’t an idea of anything, except -billiards and betting, that I can discover. As he’s only a clerk in -an insurance office, he has just enough to keep himself and not a -penny for a wife, unless what her parents give her.” - -“The sort of young fellow I never shall be able to take the -slightest interest in,” said Mr. Grandison; “not bad-looking, I -suppose, but quite incapable of raising himself a single step by his -own exertions, or aspiring to anything beyond a sufficiency of -cigars and an afternoon lounge in George Street.” - -“Of course you tried to prevent the marriage,” said Mrs. Stamford; -“but it’s too late now to do anything but make the best of it, for -poor Josie’s sake.” - -Mr. Grandison turned away his head as his wife said, in a tone of -deep feeling, “The silly girl went and was married before the -Registrar. She knew we could not approve of it, and took that means -of being beforehand with us. Her father won’t see her yet; but of -course she’ll have an allowance, and we must help them if he keeps -steady. But it nearly broke our hearts, you may believe.” - -“We see all these things too late,” said her husband, with a sigh, -which he tried bravely to repress. “If we had brought our children -up with other ideas, or placed before them higher objects of -ambition, a different result might have been reached. Over and over -again have I cursed the day when we left the bush for good—for good, -indeed!—and came to live in this city of shams. Not worse than other -places, I believe; but all this artificial town life, while not too -good for older people, is ruin and destruction for young ones. What -a fortunate man you’ve been, Stamford, though, in our selfish grief, -I’ve forgotten to congratulate you.” - -“It is the goodness of God,” he replied, warmly grasping the hand -which was silently held out to him. “My children have never given me -a moment’s anxiety. We have been sheltered, too, from the -temptations of the world, and so far from the ‘deceitfulness of -riches.’ I can never be sufficiently thankful.” - -“That won’t last long,” said Mr. Grandison, with an effort to be -cheerful. “People tell me that Windāhgil Downs is going to be the -finest sheep property west of the Barcoo, and Hubert’s reputation as -a pioneer is in everybody’s mouth now. He managed to pull the -Colonel’s investment out of the fire. Well paid for it too, by all I -hear! Give our love to Laura. She must live in Sydney, I suppose, -now she’s married a business man. A rising fellow, Barrington Hope, -and one of the smartest operators we have. Heigho! time’s up. We -shall meet again some day I hope, when I have a better story to tell -you.” - -Mrs. Stamford was sincerely grieved to hear of this latest -misfortune of the Grandison family. She could hardly forgive Josie -for the insincerity and ingratitude with which she had acted. -“However,” said the kindly matron in continuation, “perhaps it is -not so bad as they are disposed to think. They’re dreadfully -disappointed, of course. If the young man’s character is good, he -may get on, and of course Mr. Grandison will help them by and by. It -will do Josie good to have a house of her own to look after, and to -be obliged to save and contrive. The girl’s heart is not naturally -bad, I believe; but she has been spoilt by over-indulgence and -extravagance ever since she was a baby. A poor marriage may be the -best thing that ever happened to her. Oh! Harold, should we not be -deeply grateful for the mercy of Providence in so ordering our lives -that until lately we have never had any money to spare, and -self-denial has been compulsory?” - -“H’m,” said Mr. Stamford, musingly; “no doubt, no doubt! Too much -money is one form of danger, of moral death, which the devil must -regard with great, great complacency. Few people take that view, -though.” - -“I am very glad we have never been tried in that way,” said Mrs. -Stamford, simply, looking up into her husband’s face. “I have pitied -you, darling, when I have seen you tormented and anxious about money -matters, but we have always been very happy among ourselves, even -when things were at their worst. There is no chance now, I suppose, -of our affairs going wrong? These Queensland stations are quite -safe!” - -“Quite safe, my dearest wife,” answered Harold Stamford, with a pang -of remorse at his heart, as he imprinted a kiss on the fond face -which had never looked into his save with truth and love shining in -her clear eyes. “‘Safe as a bank,’ or suppose we say as Australian -debentures. I don’t mind affirming that nothing, humanly speaking, -could materially injure our investments now.” - -“I am glad to hear that, for the dear children’s sake,” she -answered. “If their future is secured, that is everything.” - - * * * * * - -Before the close of the summer, a naval squadron cruising in -Australian waters, strange to say, happened to need partial -refitting in Sydney Harbour, and, entering that picturesque haven, -anchored as usual in Farm Cove. In one of the delicious sea-girdled -nooks of Neutral Bay, it so chanced that Mr. Stamford had rented a -furnished villa for the season. The ladies were wont to use the -telescope in close inspection of any strange vessel that approached. -Wonderful to relate, it appeared that the frigate which on a -previous occasion had been the ocean home of Lieutenant Fitzurse was -even now among the graceful war-hawks which, after battling with -storm and tempest, were, so to speak, furling their pinions under -Linda’s excited gaze. - -There may or may not be a new system of marine telegraphy, but the -fact comes within my experience that naval men have exceptionally -prompt means of discovery, upon arrival in port, whether the ladies -of their acquaintance are in town, and if so, where they abide. - -It so chanced, therefore, that, upon the following afternoon, a gig -left H.M.S. _Vengeful_, and with eight able seamen pulled straight -for the Dirrāhbah jetty, landing the lieutenant and a brother -officer, who, making their call in due form, betrayed great anxiety -for the health of Mr. and Mrs. Stamford and the young ladies during -their long absence from Sydney. They were also politely astonished -at the news of Miss Stamford’s and Hubert’s marriages. Indeed, the -recital of the family news (presumably) as conveyed by Linda to Mr. -Fitzurse in full, during an examination of the green-house, lasted -so long that Mrs. Stamford looked several times from the window, and -the gallant tars in the boat referred to the protracted absence of -their superior officers in unqualified Saxon terms. - - * * * * * - -What more is left to tell? It would appear that there might have -been a previously implied, if unspoken confession between the young -people. Reference being permitted to Stamford _père_, and -satisfactory credentials forthcoming, it was arranged that an -“engagement” should be officially allowed, hope being cautiously -held out by that wary diplomatist that, in the event of the coveted -“step” being attained, the full concession might be thought about. -Which decision gave unqualified satisfaction, Linda being, as she -averred, willing to wait for years; indeed rather glad on the whole, -that separation and delay were necessary, so that she might have -time to think over and thoroughly enjoy her unparalleled happiness. - -With the autumn came the returning travellers, Hubert declaring that -he dared not stay away another week from the Downs; frightful -consequences might happen; Mr. Hope and Laura preparing to inhabit -the comfortable abode which, for a few years to come, they had -agreed, would be commensurate with their means. Something was said -about Mrs. Hubert Stamford remaining at Wantabalree with her father -while her husband went forth again on his task of subduing the -waste. But that young woman replied promptly, with the opening words -of an ancient family record, “Where thou goest, I will go.” In -reference to the possibly rude architecture of their abode, she -declared “that if Hubert had only a packing case to live in, she, -being his wife, thought it her duty to live there with him.” - -After this, of course, there was no more to be said, and the -_Catterthun_, sailing soon afterwards for the uttermost northern -port, had in her passenger list the names of Mr. and Mrs. Hubert -Stamford and servant. - - * * * * * - -From this time forth the star of Stamford family was manifestly in -the ascendant; for not only did their undertakings flourish and the -sons and daughters of the house “grow in favour with God and man,” -but everyone bound to them by the ties of kindred or friendship -prospered exceedingly. The debt on Wantabalree was cleared off in -due time, while the “Glastonbury Thorn” seemed to have taken deep -root in the northern wilds of the far land to which it had been -carried, and to bring a blessing upon the dwellers around its sacred -stem. The Colonel lived rather a solitary existence at the home -station after Willoughby had departed again for the north, but he -got into the way of going to Sydney for the summer, where the -Australian Club afforded him congenial society, with a certainty of -comradeship at the nightly whist table. - -Mr. and Mrs. Hubert Stamford returned after a year’s absence, the -latter, though having lost something of her English freshness of -complexion, by no means delicate of health, and very proud of the -infant Harold, whose steadfast eyes and bold brow marked him out as -a future pioneer. Neither were sorry to abide with the Colonel for a -season, and Hubert threw out hints about “the far north” being too -hot for any white woman, although Rosalind would rather die than -admit it. “She’s the pluckiest little woman in the world, I -believe,” he said. “Didn’t she wash and cook for me and Donald the -whole month we were without a servant? I believe she’d have kept the -station accounts too, if we’d have let her. But I don’t want to run -risks.” - -Mr. and Mrs. Stamford, being more impartial observers, were of -opinion that a change would be beneficial to both the young people. -Hubert was too thin to satisfy the maternal eye. She believed that -he had never properly got over that horrid fever and ague attack. -“And of course Hubert would never give in; but really as the boy had -done so well, wouldn’t it be a nice time for them to run home for a -year or two? The station was settling down, and as Mr. Greenhaugh -had been taken into partnership, surely he could manage things for a -time? It would benefit Hubert in every way, and as he had never been -‘home,’ of course they would like him to see a little of the world.” - -Something of this sort may have occurred to Mr. Stamford, but he had -refrained in order to permit his more cautious helpmate to propose -the extravagant notion. He shook his head oracularly, said he would -think over it, and if it was decided—mind, if after due -consideration it turned out to be feasible—he thought it would do -Barrington and Laura a great deal of good too. Barrington would -knock himself up if they didn’t mind. He was such a terribly -constant worker, and so conscientious that he did not permit himself -the relaxation that other men in his position would have claimed. - -“What a splendid idea!” exclaimed Mrs. Stamford; “my dear Harold, -you always seem to hit upon the exact thing we have all been -thinking of but have hesitated about mentioning. It will be the -saving of Barrington, and as for Laura, the great dream of her life -will be fulfilled. I know she almost pines for Rome and Florence, -but she told me once she did not think they could afford it for some -years to come.” - -“_I_ can afford it, though,” said Mr. Stamford, with pardonable -exultation. “Things have prospered with us lately. And what have we -to think of in this world but our children’s happiness? Barrington -shall have a cheque for a thousand the day their passage is taken. -As for Hubert, he can draw one for himself now, thank God! without -interviewing his banker.” - -Mrs. Stamford was an economical and intelligent woman as to her -household accounts, but she had the vague idea of “business” common -to her sex. She knew in a general way from her son and husband that -the stations were all paying and improving in value. So she accepted -the situation without further inquiry. When her husband, therefore, -spoke of drawing so large a cheque for travelling expenses, she was -not alarmed as she would once have been at the idea of paying a -tenth part of the amount, but regarded the apparent profusion of -money in the family as a consequence of the higher standard of -pastoral property which they had been so wonderfully guided to -reach. “Hitherto has the Lord helped us,” she quoted softly to -herself. “May His mercy be around our paths and shield those who are -dear to us from every evil!” - -The news that a trip to the old country was not only possible but -considered expedient, and in a sense necessary, came with the effect -of a delightful surprise upon both couples. Hubert had, in a hazy, -contemplative way been revolving the idea, but had not thought it -likely that it could be arranged in less than three or four years. -But now, brought face to face with the idea, he found it to be -unexpectedly practicable. There was no very complicated work or -management necessary for two or three years. Donald Greenhaugh, who -had now a fourth share, was fully able to superintend the ordinary -station work. Fencing, branding the increase and selling the fat -stock, were operations which he could conduct as well as—in a sense -better—than Hubert could himself. In case “anything happened to -him”—and such things have occurred ere now, disastrously for the -absentee partner—there was Willoughby, with whom he could leave a -power of attorney, on the spot. All that was wanted was to increase -the cattle herd from five thousand head to twenty, and that would -not half stock the runs. The sheep of course were right. One man of -experience could see to that process nearly as well as another. - -Barrington Hope too, urged by his wife, who was fully of opinion -that he worked too hard, also that a purely sedentary life was -drawing fresh lines upon his brow, and prematurely ageing -him—pressed firmly his claim for a lengthened vacation. To that end -a relieving manager was appointed to take his place during his -absence. When he found that Mr. Stamford’s liberality was about to -take such a pleasing form, he was indeed surprised as well as -gratified. That gentleman felt it necessary to make a slight -explanation as to his private means, but he merely mentioned that he -was now possessed of certain family funds not available at the time -of their first acquaintance, and could therefore well afford the -outlay. - -As for Laura, it seemed as if the old days of nursery tales had come -back. The fairy godmother had arisen and gifted her with the precise -form of happiness previously as impossible as a slice of the moon. -It had long been the wish of her heart to behold, to wander amid, -those historic relics, those wondrous art creations, those hallowed -spots with which her reading and her imaginative faculty had -rendered her so familiar. It was her favourite dream for middle -life. When years of self-denial and steady industry had wrought out -the coveted independence, _then_ the journey into the land of -ancient fame, of wonder, mystery, and romance, was to be their -reward. But to think of its being vouchsafed to them in their youth, -before the stern counsel of middle age, with its slower -heart-currents, had warned them that the years were slowly -advancing, fated to carry with them the best treasures of life. - -And oh, gracious destiny! in the full tide of youthful feeling, of -the joyous exalting sense of happiness born of the unworn heart of -youth, _now_ to bestow on them these all-priceless luxuries! It was -more than wonderful—it was magical. Who were they to have so much -undeserved happiness showered upon them? Hubert and Rosalind would -join them, perhaps to part in England for a while. But they would -roam the Continent together, they could in company gaze upon the -dead giantess Rome; the city by the sea, even Venice; resting under -the shade of German pine forests, they could listen to weird legends -beneath the shadow of the Hartz Mountains. Oh! joy, glory, peace -unspeakable! What an astonishing change in their life-history! And -to think that in less than a month—so it had been ordered—they would -be saying farewell to the land of their birth! - -It was felt by the Colonel and Willoughby to be an unfair stroke of -destiny that Rosalind, the chief joy and glory of their life, should -be spirited away to Europe. But her father also considered that, -when in Queensland, she was virtually as far from his ken, while the -pleasures and advantages procurable from the former locality bore no -comparison with the latter. There was an unspoken wish also on the -part of the elder relatives that the Australian contingent should -enjoy the inestimable advantage of beholding with their own eyes the -wonders of the other hemisphere, of forming an alliance by personal -experience with the glory and the loveliness, the literature and art -of the ancient world, to endure in memory’s treasure-house till -life’s latest hour. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - -Barrington Hope could hardly realise the fact, till he found himself -actually on board of a mail steamer, that he would have no business -cares for the next two years—a whole elysium of rest and recreation. -For this respite from the “figure and fact” mill, Laura was deeply -grateful, sensible as she had been for some months past that the -calculating machine was working under occasional effort. - -When the Hubert Stamfords and Hopes bestowed themselves on board the -_Lahore_—the last triumph of the Peninsular and Oriental Company—one -would have thought all Sydney was coming to say farewell—such was -the congregation on the deck and in the magnificent saloon of that -noble vessel. Of course the Colonel and Willoughby, Mr. and Mrs. -Stamford, and all their Sydney friends turned out on purpose to “see -them off” as the phrase is, according to British etiquette on such -occasions. Other people—friends and relatives—had come to say -farewell to their wives and daughters, sons and sweethearts. Thus -many a saddened countenance and tearful eye were to be noted as the -great steamer moved slowly astern, and then glided at half-speed -down the harbour. - - * * * * * - -Of their safe and pleasant voyage—of fast friends, and congenial -acquaintances made on board and parted from with regret—what need to -speak? Of the entrance to fairyland which the first few months’ -sojourn in the dear old island so closely resembles for -home-returning Australians. Of the stores of information acquired. -Of the intoxicating luxury of mere existence under such conditions. -Of the transcending of all anticipation and belief. - -Barrington Hope and Laura remained in Europe for the full term of -their holiday—two years. But six months ere that period closed -Hubert and his wife became impatient to return to their life-task in -the south land, too satiated with mere sensuous enjoyment to remain -longer. - -“We are young and strong, thank God,” said Hubert; “it’s not as -though we did not see our way to be back here again within a -reasonable time. But my work lies in Australia, and I can’t settle -to this kind of easy-going life just yet. When Windāhgil Downs is in -thorough working order and fully stocked, we can treat ourselves to -a run home every five years or so without feeling uneasy about the -seasons or anything else. So we’ll just take our passage by the next -boat and wake them up at Mooramah once more.” - -“I’m ready, dearest,” said his wife. “With you, I think our work is -only half-done, and the sooner we commence life in earnest the -better. We’ve seen picture galleries enough to last us for the next -few years, and I begin to pine for a sight of my dear old father, -and Willoughby, poor boy! I wonder how they are getting on at -Wantabalree?” - - * * * * * - -Once more the family circles were replenished, irradiated by the old -love and tenderness in the persons of the wanderers—once more -grateful hearts were full to overflowing, and humble thanks were -offered up to the Supreme Power which had permitted their happy -reunion, in spite of perils by land and sea—the thousand chances of -danger and death which had irrevocably marred less fortunate -households. All had gone well in their absence—Linda and her sailor -love had been made mutually happy, and through the exercise of -judicious local interest Captain Fitzurse, as he was now proudly -styled by mankind and his adoring bride, had secured a colonial -appointment involving naval duty, but not forbidding the occupation -of one of those delightful marine residences of which Sydney boasts -so many perfect specimens. - -Donald Greenhaugh had amply justified the confidence bestowed on -him. The stations were growing and flourishing to the fullest extent -of sanguine expectation. Willoughby had developed into a stalwart -bushman, properly bronzed and duly experienced in all pastoral lore. -The seasons “out back” had been good. Nothing was wanting of all the -conditions of permanent prosperity. - -Of all the members of the two families so happily united and -thankfully enjoying their unwonted success, universally admired and -envied, Mr. Stamford alone seemed to be laden with care. At times -abstracted and preoccupied, silent and grave amidst the family -hilarity; at whist, striking out confusing lines of play, for which -no precedent could be found. Such was his departure in general -behaviour from the ordinary cheerful and equable habit that his wife -and children commenced seriously to fear that the unwonted -prosperity had turned his head, or that old anxieties had induced -morbid action of the brain. The Colonel shook his head as he -delicately alluded to the melancholy fact in a walk with Rosalind. -It would grieve him to the heart. He didn’t think really he could -stay on at Wantabalree; that a man who could lead from a weak suit -and play the Queen of Hearts when the King was still _in petto_, -_must_ be suffering from incipient softening of the brain, was -patent to him. - -The fact was that Mr. Stamford had come to the conclusion that the -time had arrived when it was necessary to make a clean breast of his -secret. And he did not like the idea at all. When the matter was -buried in his own breast and in that of Mr. Worthington, than whom -his own iron safe was not more reticent of office secrets, it did -not, like other hidden deeds, appear so frightful. But now, after -all these years, to be compelled to tell his wife and children, who -believed that they shared every thought of his heart, that he had -carefully, wilfully, artfully concealed from them the knowledge of -their true position! He could hardly stand up and face the idea. -“What if his children should resent this want of all confidence? -Would his wife think that all her love and trust deserved a -different return?” - -Mr. Stamford wiped his heated brow and thought the position -unendurable. Still, the motive was a good one, a pure one, even -practical. And how had it worked? The result might not have directly -proceeded from the means employed; but still everything had followed -for which he had hoped and prayed. - -His children had not shrunk from any test of self-denial, of -fortitude, of continuous industry rendered necessary by the apparent -narrowness of their fortunes. True, they were at the same time -actuated by filial reverence and family love, swayed by the tenets -of that religious teaching which from their infancy had been -unwaveringly inculcated. But could these influences have been -sufficiently strong to counteract the strong currents of ease and -pleasure, the soft zephyrs of flattery, the clinging weight of -indolence, all urging towards the wreck-strewn shore of -self-indulgence, when once the fatal knowledge should be acquired -that all care for the morrow was superfluous? - -Who shall say? Had not the fate of his friend’s family, the -melancholy failure of even his modest aspirations for social -distinction, been as a beacon light and a warning? - -As it was, every noble feeling, every desire to spare no effort -either of mind or body which could tend to raise the fortunes and to -lighten the hearts of those so dear to him, had been stimulated and -intensified in his son and heir by the sharp urgency and weight of -the Alternative. His daughters had emulated their mother’s virtues -and with uncomplaining patience had endured isolation, monotony, -plain living, and sparing apparel. For this they had had their -reward—doubtless. But would all these fragrant flowers of the soul -have thriven and bloomed in the ungenial soil of luxury, and the -indolence born of unwonted, uncounted wealth? - -Whatever had been his sin of omission or commission, could he fairly -be chargeable with apathy as to the welfare of his children? - -For them, and in their interest, he had striven in every conscious -hour from that of their birth until now. For them he had toiled and -endured hardness—had hoped and prayed. For their welfare in this -world and the next was his every waking thought engaged. Other than -these had he no pleasures worthy of the name in the latter years of -a life now approaching—slowly, but still approaching—the inevitable -close. He had, it was true, chosen an unusual mode, but withal an -intelligible course of action. - -Looking at the question in all its points, and pushing the reasoning -on either side to its conclusion, Mr. Stamford began to find his -position more tenable than he had expected. After all, he had only -done in life what most people did in death—reserved the distribution -of his fortune until a later period, for the eventual benefit of his -children. - -Thus fortified, Mr. Stamford, having made up his mind, as the phrase -runs, resolved to communicate the terrible secret fully and finally -to his assembled family that very evening, being averse to spoiling -another night’s rest with a burden of thought the weight of which -had become so oppressive. It happened that the Colonel and -Willoughby were at Windāhgil, so Mr. Stamford rightly judged that it -would save all after trouble of explanation if he made his Budget -speech when nearly all concerned were present. - -Partly in deference to the Colonel’s habitudes and those of the -European travellers, the fashion of a late dinner had been revived -at Windāhgil. Everybody had been unusually cheerful. The -never-failing fund of Continental or English experiences had been -drawn upon over the “walnuts and the wine,” or rather, when grapes -and peaches were receiving attention—Hubert had been laughingly -threatening Rosalind with a dozen more years of Queensland life—when -Mr. Stamford stood up and remarked that “the time had arrived when -he felt it his duty to make a statement which had been, for reasons -of his own, postponed—perhaps unnecessarily so. However, it deeply -concerned the interests of all present, directly or indirectly, and -as he said before, the time had come for him to explain, he might -say disclose, the a—a—affair.” - -Here Mr. Stamford, who was not a fluent speaker, became aware that -though he had not furnished a particularly accurate termination to -his last sentence, he had at all events sufficiently puzzled, not to -say alarmed, his audience. He therefore filled his glass and sipped -it slowly, while Mrs. Stamford looked wistfully at him. Laura gazed -with fully opened eyes, in which might be observed a slight glimmer -of dread; Hubert waited calmly for the next words, and Mr. Hope and -the Colonel politely preserved a studied indifference. Rosalind took -the cue from her husband, and betrayed no uneasiness by word or -gesture. - -“My dearest wife, my children, my friends,” the speaker proceeded, -“what I have to tell you is rather of a pleasing than of an alarming -nature. The only awkwardness of my position arises from uncertainty -as to whether I ought to have said what I do now several years ago. -I can truly assert that it is the only secret I ever kept from my -dear wife, or even from my children since they arrived at years of -discretion.” - -Here everybody’s face expressed different degrees of amazement. - -The orator continued. “The leading fact is that I am a much richer -man than is generally supposed.” (“Hear, hear,” from the Colonel.) -“In a year we all remember well, as you will see by the date of this -letter, I was left £170,000 or thereabouts by a relative. You do not -forget the dry year in which we were so nearly ruined? We recovered -our position chiefly through the well-considered, safe, yet liberal -action of my dear son-in-law, Barrington Hope. The gratitude I felt -for the way in which he then acted, strictly consonant as it was -with proper business principles, is still warm and fresh in my -recollection.” - -Here Laura’s eyes sparkled. - -“Immediately after this comparative good fortune I received this -letter, which told me of a bequest beyond all hope or expectation. -It rendered me a rich, a very rich man, as fortunes go in Australia. -Circumstances which then came under my observation caused me to -doubt whether a sudden accession of wealth would act beneficially -upon the as yet unformed characters of my darling children. Up to -that period their dispositions, their principles, had been all the -fondest parent could have wished. Why, then, run the risk of an -alteration, necessarily for the worse? Would they so continue under -a total change of conditions and prospects? I felt doubtful, judging -from analogy. So deeply was the danger to them at such a critical -period of their lives borne in upon me, that I took time to consider -my course of action. Finally, after deep thought and earnest prayer, -I resolved to withhold the important intelligence—to permit them to -remain in ignorance of aught but a gradual relief from threatened -ruin. In short, I elected to live our old life, gradually modified -and developed, until, in course of time, their characters had -acquired maturity, with that strength to resist all ordinary -temptation which I hoped and trusted the coming years would bring. -My secret was known to but one man, our trusted legal adviser and -friend, Mr. Worthington. Meanwhile, I proposed judiciously to -improve our mode of living, and to provide, by degrees, such -indulgences as befitted our apparent position. You can judge whether -I have kept the promise which I then made to myself, whether our -cherished ideal of ‘plain living and high thinking’ has been -reached.” - -Here Mrs. Stamford approached her husband, and placed her hand in -his, amid the silent astonishment which pervaded the company. - -“I have only now to say that all things shaped themselves in every -respect as I could have wished. I am the happiest and proudest -father this day in Australia. I can trust my beloved children, in -ripened manhood and womanhood, with the full knowledge of their -altered position, and I ask their forgiveness, and that of my -dearest wife, for the apparent want of confidence involved in this -my first and last secret, as far as they are concerned.” - -Here Mr. Stamford resumed his seat, and looked round vainly for any -sign of dissent. Before other comment was possible, his wife turned -towards him with a countenance expressive of the purest tenderness, -the most loving and perfect confidence. - -“My darling husband,” she said, “you lay too much stress upon the -reserve necessary for your purpose. As the head of the family, you -had a perfect right to give or withhold the information. Have you -not always considered the best interests of us all? You _might_ have -taken me into your confidence, perhaps, but no child of ours would -dream of questioning your action in this or any other matter. Could -we have been happier with all the money in the world?” - -“And so say all of us, my dear old governor,” said Hubert, walking -round to his father’s chair and shaking his hand warmly, a -proceeding which was quickly followed by Barrington Hope, -Willoughby, and Colonel Dacre. “I should never have stuck to my -collar or been half the fellow, if I had thought, years ago, that -work or play was optional with us—would never have tackled the -things that now I feel proud and happy to have carried through; -never had such a little wife, most likely, either. In her name, in -all our names, I thank you from my heart for what you did.” - -Laura’s arms had been for some moments round her father’s neck; her -feelings were too deep for words; her tears were those of relief and -gratitude. The Colonel made an opportune diversion by expressing a -hope that his esteemed friend’s whist would now undergo a beneficial -change. His sudden deterioration of form had, he confessed, caused -him, the Colonel, great uneasiness, even alarm. Now that the murder -was out, and his breast unburdened of its dreadful secret, he felt -confident they would return to their former most enjoyable social -relations. As a friend, a father, and an antagonist in the king of -games, he begged to be permitted to congratulate him most warmly and -sincerely. - - THE END - - - RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BUNGAY. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - THE - QUEEN OF THE MOOR - - A TALE OF DARTMOOR IN THE DAYS - OF WATERLOO - - BY FREDERIC ADYE - - _CONTENTS._ - - CHAP. - - I. TOR ROYAL. - - II. MORNING ON THE MOOR. - - III. THE WAR PRISON. - - IV. _PARCERE SUBJECTIS._ - - V. THE DARTMOOR HUNT. - - VI. A FOX CHASE ON DARTMOOR. - - VII. SOUTH HESSARY. - - VIII. A KISS IN TIME. - - IX. OKERY COTTAGE. - - X. THE SHERBURTON BULL. - - XI. MADAME GALMADY DE TOR ROYAL. - - XII. BY THE CORNISH SEA. - - XIII. THE FORSTERS AT HOME. - - XIV. FAMILY TALK. - - XV. FATHER SEGUIER. - - XVI. MISS CALMADY ENTERTAINS. - - XVII. A DINNER PARTY AT TOR ROYAL. - - XVIII. “DO TAKE HIM, HE’S - THOROUGH-BRED.” - - XIX. THE FISHERMAN’S DAUGHTER. - - XX. A PERILOUS SAIL. - - XXI. NAUGHTY GUNHILDA. - - XXII. THE HONOURABLE JACK. - - XXIII. “THERE SHOULD BE A GENTLEMAN.” - - XXIV. SNOWBALLING. - - XXV. THE TAME HERON. - - XXVI. A SCENE ON THE ICE. - - XXVII. THE FRENCH SERGEANT. - - XXVIII. DANGER AHEAD. - - XXIX. A DISCIPLE OF LAVATER. - - XXX. THE REVEREND ROUNDER. - - XXXI. FRANK IN TROUBLE. - - XXXII. DRIVING THE DRIFT. - - XXXIII. POVERA PICCIOLA. - - XXXIV. THE KING’S SHILLING. - - XXXV. THE MARSEILLAISE. - - XXXVI. _VAE VICTIS._ - - XXXVII. WISTMAN’S WOOD. - - XXXVIII. BROTHER AND SISTER. - - XXXIX. CECIL VISITS THE BARBICAN. - - XL. THE SEARCH WARRANT. - - XLI. THE DOCTOR’S KITCHEN. - - XLII. GOOD-BYE TO THE MOOR. - - XLIII. WAR’S ALARUMS. - - XLIV. THE EIGHTEENTH OF JUNE. - - XLV. AMONG THE PROVENCE ROSES. - - XLVI. THE BELLS OF BATTREAUX. - - XLVII. CONCLUSION. - - OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH_—“His chapters in praise of the stout hill foxes, -and the brilliant runs they give over miles of grass and fern, -remind us in their freshness and abundance of life of Whyte Melville -at his best.... The novel is an excellent one.” - -_GRAPHIC_—“It is long since we have read a novel with so much -unbroken pleasure.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“A very pretty little plot of adventure and love -is woven out of this material. Interspersed, but not too frequently, -are some hunting scenes drawn with great spirit.” - -_MANCHESTER EXAMINER_—“Reminds us very forcibly of some of the most -characteristic romances of Charles Kingsley and Mr. Blackmore. The -_Queen of the Moor_ is like _Westward Ho!_ and _Lorna Doone_, full -of nature and of human nature.” - -_MORNING POST_—“Since _Lorna Doone_ the natural features of an -English district have not been described with such a vigorous touch -as is Dartmoor and the country that surrounds it in Mr. Adye’s novel -... his delightful romance which has the freshness of the wild moors -it so vividly paints.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE_—“Lovers of the picturesque in nature will render -grateful thanks to Mr. Adye for the admirable sketches he gives of -romantic Dartmoor.... There is a charm about these descriptions -which reminds us of those of Mr. R.D. Blackmore. We never tire of -them, for they are never twice the same. Each time we get a new -glimpse, and each time we feel more strongly drawn to this land of -heath and tor.” - -_OBSERVER_—“A work that will rank high among the historical romances -of the present day.” - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - _ROLF BOLDREWOOD’S NEW NOVEL_ - - PLAIN LIVING - - =A Bush Idyll= - - BY ROLF BOLDREWOOD - - - BY THE SAME - - MY RUN HOME - - =_Crown 8vo. 6s._= - -_ATHENÆUM_—“Rolf Boldrewood’s last story is a racy volume. It has -many of the best qualities of Whyte Melville, the breezy freshness -and vigour of Frank Smedley, with the dash and something of the -abandon of Lever... His last volume is one of his best.” - -_GLASGOW HERALD_—“There is a fresh breeziness about the book which -makes it pleasant reading.” - -_DAILY MAIL_—“A sprightly book, this is, as much English as -Australian, with a style distinguished by a rattling freedom which -rarely degenerates into slipshodness. The interest is mainly horsey, -yet the men and women live and the whole story goes with a swing and -a rush.” - -_OBSERVER_—“Lacks neither incident nor interest, and will, -doubtless, find many readers.” - -_MANCHESTER GUARDIAN_—“There is always life and movement in what Mr. -Rolf Boldrewood writes.” - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - THE - - SECRET OF ST. FLOREL - - BY JOHN BERWICK - - -_SPEAKER_—“A book to be unreservedly recommended.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH_—“The thrilling interest of the narrative is -continuously sustained by the malefactions of no fewer than three -several and distinct villains, whom the author utilizes with -consummate ability as instruments of romantic complication.... Teems -with novel incident, and bristles with exciting adventures.” - -_OBSERVER_—“A capital romance, and well worth reading.” - -_STANDARD_—“Clever and well written.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE_—“The story is interesting.... The end is dramatic -and original.” - -_GLASGOW HERALD_—“The descriptions of foreign life and travel are -delightful, and this novel is in every way a well-written one.” - -_SCOTSMAN_—“A thoroughly healthy and well-told story, with plenty of -stirring incident and variety of scene and situation, and it is not -wanting in study of character and knowledge of life, savage, -semi-savage, and civilized.” - - - - - _Globe 8vo. 12s._ - - _F. MARION CRAWFORD’S NEW NOVEL_ - - =CORLEONE= - - _In Two Volumes._ - - -_DAILY CHRONICLE_—“These Sicilian scenes are admirably rendered, for -Mr. Crawford is an artist, and an artist of strongly dramatic -instincts.... All who love Mr. Crawford’s work (roughly speaking, -all who know it, that is) know well enough that the oldest story -would be improved by his telling of it.” - -_ACADEMY_—“The story is told in Mr. Crawford’s best manner, and -after the preliminary chapters are well out of the way, you can -hardly lay it aside.” - -_PUNCH_—“The reader’s interest in the story, roused at the -commencement, grows in intensity as the plot is artistically -developed to its climax. Mr. Crawford’s pictures of Italian scenery -are perfect, and his characters, belonging to the Roman Society, -with which he has familiarized us in so many of his books, are -living beings before our eyes.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH_—“A good story ... full of vigorous touches, -interesting, and even absorbing from beginning to end.” - -_SPECTATOR_—“The glories of the Sicilian landscape are admirably -painted, and the book is enriched by a good deal of illuminative -commentary on the peculiarities of the Italian and Sicilian -temperament.... A brilliant and engrossing story.” - -_LITERATURE_—“We have not often met with a more satisfactory novel -than Corleone, and have little doubt that it will be regarded as one -of Mr. Crawford’s best works.... An exciting and dramatic story.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“Mr. Marion Crawford at his best, with his -inventive faculties at their boldest, his constructive skill at its -fullest, and with his grace of manner always before us, gives such -joy as the fabulist may rarely hope to afford. In _Corleone_ we find -to our huge delight that it is once again Mr. Crawford at his -best.... A splendid romance of much originality, and always -captivating and impressive.” - -_SPEAKER_—“This is almost, if not quite, the strongest and most -striking of the brilliant series of romances to which it belongs.” - - - - - NOVELS BY F. MARION CRAWFORD - - _Crown 8vo. 6s. each._ - - =A ROSE OF YESTERDAY.= - - _WORLD_—“A charming story.” - - =TAQUISARA.= - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“Cannot fail to be read with interest and -pleasure by all to whom clever characterization and delicate drawing -make appeal.” - - _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. each._ - - =Mr. Isaacs=: A Tale of Modern India. - - _Athenæum_—“A work of unusual ability.” - - =Doctor Claudius=: A True Story. - - _Athenæum_—“Mr. Crawford has achieved another - success.” - - =A Roman Singer.= - - _Times_—“A masterpiece of narrative.... Unlike any - other romance in English literature.” - - =Zoroaster.= - - _Guardian_—“An instance of the highest and noblest - form of novel.” - - =Marzio’s Crucifix.= - - _Times_—“A subtle compound of artistic feeling, - avarice, malice, and criminal frenzy is this - carver of silver chalices and crucifixes.” - - =A Tale of a Lonely Parish.= - - _Saturday Review_—“Unlike most novels ‘A Tale of a - Lonely Parish’ goes on improving up to the end.” - - =Paul Patoff.= - - _St. James’s Gazette_—“Those who neglect to read - ‘Paul Patoff’ will throw away a very pleasurable - opportunity.” - - =With the Immortals.= - - _Spectator_—“Cannot fail to please a reader who - enjoys crisp, clear, vigorous writing, and - thoughts that are alike original and suggestive.” - - =Greifenstein.= - - _Guardian_—“The book, we doubt not, will rank very - high among Mr. Crawford’s novels.” - - =Sant’ Ilario.= - - _Athenæum_—“The plot is skilfully concocted, and - the interest is sustained to the end.... A very - clever piece of work.” - - =A Cigarette-Maker’s - Romance.= - - _Globe_—“We are inclined to think this is the best - of Mr. M. Crawford’s stories.” - - =Khaled=: A Tale of Arabia. - - _Anti-Jacobin_—“Mr. Crawford has written some - stories more powerful, but none more attractive - than this.” - - =The Three Fates.= - - _National Observer_—“A brilliant variation from - Mr. F. Marion Crawford’s wonted style.” - - =The Witch of Prague.= - - _Academy_—“It is a romance of singular daring and - power.” - - =Marion Darche=: A Story without - Comment. - - _Athenæum_—“The characters are thoroughly - interesting, the dialogue easy, and the situations - effective....” - - =Katherine Lauderdale.= - - _Punch_—“Admirable in its simple pathos, its - unforced humour, and, above all, in its truth to - human nature.” - - =The Children of the King.= - - _Daily Chronicle_—“Mr. Crawford has not done - better work than ‘The Children of the King’ for a - long time.” - - =Pietro Ghisleri.= - - _Speaker_—“Mr. Crawford is an artist, and a great - one, and he has been brilliantly successful in a - task in which ninety-nine out of every hundred - writers would have failed.” - - =Don Orsino.= - - _Athenæum_—“‘Don Orsino’ is a story with many - strong points.” - - =Casa Braccio.= - - _Daily Telegraph_—“The reader will not easily lay - it down until he has reached the concluding page.” - - =Adam Johnstone’s Son.= - - _Daily News_—“Mr. Crawford has written stories - richer in incident and more powerful in intention, - but we do not think that he has handled more - deftly or shown a more delicate insight into - tendencies that go towards making some of the more - spiritual tragedies of life.” - - =The Ralstons.= - - _Academy_—“A book to be read, and read more than - once.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - BY THE AUTHOR OF - “THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER” - - =PHILANDERERS= - - BY - - A.E.W. MASON - -_GLOBE_—“His work is virile; it is individual; it is, in certain -fine qualities, distinguished.” - -_WORLD_—“One of the most interesting novels we have met for a long -time.” - -_ACADEMY_—“_The Philanderers_ should add to Mr. Mason’s reputation—a -reputation which, I am convinced, will continue to grow.” - -_DAILY MAIL_—“There is no weakness here, no shallowness, no -compromise. Built up with strength and sincerity, and finely -written, the story braces the mind as much as it captivates the -taste.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“The charm of the story lies in the clear, sharp -outlines and delicate shading with which the chief characters are -limned, and the grace and ease of the style and of the dialogues.... -All Mr. Mason’s _Philanderers_ are convincing—‘neither children nor -gods,’ but men and women in a world of afternoon teas—and thoroughly -convincing.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH_—“It is light, sparkling, and very well told.” - -_ATHENÆUM_—“Mr. Mason is to be much congratulated on a fine book.” - -_BRITISH REVIEW AND NATIONAL OBSERVER_—“A book to read.” - -_GUARDIAN_—“It is cleverly and well written, with both humour and -brilliance.” - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE_—“A clever and original story, told with much -freshness and vivacity.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - =THE COURTSHIP= - - =OF= - - =MORRICE BUCKLER= - - BY A.E.W. MASON - -_TIMES_—“It is a pleasure to meet a romance of historical times, -rather than a romance of history (for actual events are scarcely -introduced), so vigorous, brilliant, rapid, and exciting as _The -Courtship of Morrice Buckler_.... If his work be not widely read, if -many do not breathlessly follow Morrice Buckler from Leyden to -London, to Bristol, to Lukstein, and in all his wanderings, the loss -will be that of novel-readers.” - -_ATHENÆUM_—“Mr. Mason’s manner is alert and engaging, and his matter -fresh and stirring. No one who takes up his novel is likely to lay -it down unfinished.” - -_PUNCH_—“If this my hint will increase the number of readers, they -will, unless gratitude be extinct, thank me for my strong -recommendation as to the excellent entertainment provided for them -in _The Courtship of Morrice Buckler_.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“A right gallant romance of the seventeenth -century, which is attractive from one end to the other.” - -_SPECTATOR_—“A thrilling romance, with a most ingenious and -mysterious plot. The story is excellently told.” - -_BLACK AND WHITE_—“Admirable in every respect.” - -_SPEAKER_—“A fine dramatic tale.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH_—“Without a doubt the name of Mr. A.E. W. Mason -must be added to that small but distinguished band who have given so -brilliant a revival to the old-fashioned bustling romance of fair -and haughty ladies, brave gallants, duels, ruffles and brocades, and -all the varied and charming ingredients of those tales of bygone -days which are such welcome refreshment in these prosaic times.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - =STORIES OF NAPLES= - - =AND THEM= - - =CAMORRA= - - BY CHARLES GRANT - -_GUARDIAN_—“These stories are written from personal knowledge of the -Neapolitan peasant class, and in consequence they are most -remarkable. To gain this knowledge, Mr. Grant gathered his material -‘by personal intercourse with the lower classes in their narrow -homes, or in by-ways and lanes still narrower.’... Such material -gained in so intimate a fashion Mr. Grant has worked up into stories -thrilling in their realistic interest.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“We cordially recommend the book, especially to -the lovers of Italy and her picturesque people.” - -_NATIONAL OBSERVER_—“As a picture of the way in which the South -Italians live and act, and think and feel, these sketches, drawn -mostly from life, are of historical as well as literary value.” - -Mr. GLADSTONE writes to the publishers: “In all the tales I think it -most interesting and instructive—in the two first delightful, and -extremely skilful also.... Mr. Grant must have been a delightful -man.” - -_TIMES_—“Mr. Grant’s collection of Neapolitan sketches, or studies -in fiction, founded on his peculiar and extensive knowledge of the -populace, is a work of poignant interest.... Full of incident and -colour.... The book is one of permanent value.” - -_MORNING POST_—“Within its limits leaves nothing to be desired for -fidelity of characterization and colouring, and induces regret that -a writer of such varied gifts should have died at a comparatively -early age.... The entire volume is vividly descriptive and full of -Southern colour.” - -_DAILY NEWS_—“The book is well worth reading and even studying. The -street scenes are handled with artistic effectiveness, and the -people seem to live before us.” - -_SCOTSMAN_—“It is not a bare, Zolaesque, photographic picture of low -life that is revealed. The hand of the artist in words, and the -touch of the genial sympathizer with human nature in all its aspects -invest it with infinite charm, and few who take up this book will -lay it down without feeling that Mr. Grant has conveyed in these -pages some notion of the fascination which held him so long in -Naples.” - -_GLASGOW HERALD_—“If Mr. Grant has left any other studies of the -city he loved so well, we hope that they too may be published, for -this book makes us long for more.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - =A= - - CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS - - BY - - MRS. HUGH FRASER - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - =PALLADIA= - -_SATURDAY REVIEW_—“It has a capital plot, fascinating characters, -and much dramatic interest.... A good piece of work, full of -interest and humour.” - -_SPEAKER_—“There are very few who, having begun the perusal of -Palladia, will care to lay it down until the last page is reached.” - -_MORNING POST_—“Romantic, picturesque, and interesting.” - -_NATIONAL OBSERVER_—“A romance of thrilling interest.” - -_SPECTATOR_—“A most engrossing and ingenious story.” - -_ACADEMY_—“It cannot be said there is a dull page in _Palladia_ from -beginning to end.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH_—“It is even better than _The Brown Ambassador_, -good as that delightfully humorous book was in its way, and higher -praise than this it is unnecessary to bestow.” - -_GLASGOW HERALD_—“This is in every respect a capital romance.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“A satisfactory romance is _Palladia_.” - -_SCOTSMAN_—“Full of stirring and exciting scenes. Many of the -characters are drawn with great skill, and the novel deserves to -find many readers.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - =A SON OF THE PLAINS= - - BY ARTHUR PATERSON - -_TIMES_—“As a book for a railway journey, or to pass a pleasant, -indeed a thrilling, hour with, Mr. Arthur Paterson’s _A Son of the -Plains_ may be thoroughly recommended.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“A book of great interest.... He has written a -most thrilling and effective story in the simplest and most -unaffected manner.” - -_WORLD_—“The interest is never allowed to flag.” - -_BRITISH WEEKLY_—“The book is written in a masterly style.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE_—“If boys are what they were and what they ought to -be, and parents and guardians know how to select books for presents -at Christmas time, Mr. Paterson will receive a big cheque from his -publishers; and most thoroughly will he have deserved it.” - -_DAILY TELEGRAPH_—“A bright, exhilarating story of thrilling -adventures and hairbreadth ’scapes in Western America.... As a -sensational romance Mr. Paterson’s latest fiction may safely be -pronounced ‘bad to beat.’” - -_ST. JAMES’S BUDGET_—“It would be difficult to find a more exciting -story of adventure than that provided by Mr. Arthur Paterson in _A -Son of the Plains_.... The interest never flags for a single -instant.” - -_GLASGOW HERALD_—“There is a fine spirit of adventure about this -story.... Mr. Paterson is, as it were, a Fenimore Cooper born out of -due time, and his story is distinctly clever and exciting.” - -_SCOTSMAN_—“A better story of love and adventure, specially -adventure, neither boy nor man has any need to desire.” - -_ADMIRALTY GAZETTE_—“A graphic and extremely readable tale of -western frontier life.” - -_WHITEHALL REVIEW_—“The author has succeeded in producing a work -that will rank among high-class fiction, and as a wholesome book for -boys nothing will be more eagerly welcomed.” - -_SPEAKER_—“His new story is as thrilling, as brimful of adventure -and incident, and as graphic in narration as anything he has yet -written.... To say that there is not a dull page in the story is to -understate the case.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - =FOR PRINCE & PEOPLE= - - =A Tale of Old Genoa= - - BY - - E.K. SANDERS - -_MANCHESTER GUARDIAN_—“A spirited story of political strife in Genoa -in the sixteenth century. The conclusion does not land us in -fairyland, but if the sober colouring of a work-a-day world would be -not an absolute bar to the enjoyment of youthful readers the book -can be heartily recommended to them, both for its sustained interest -and for the high tone pervading it.” - -_SCOTSMAN_—“The plot is well conceived and well handled.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - =RED ROWANS= - - BY MRS. F.A. STEEL - - AUTHOR OF “ON THE FACE OF THE WATERS” - -_STANDARD_—“Mrs. Steel’s book is healthy and well written, full of -rational optimism and sympathetic understanding of poor human -nature.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE_—“Judge it by what canons of criticism you will, -the book is a work of art.... The story is simple enough, but it is -as life-like as anything in modern fiction. The people speak and act -as people do act and speak. There is not a false note throughout. -Mrs. Steel draws children as none but a master hand can draw.” - -_BLACK AND WHITE_—“It reveals keen sympathy with nature, and clever -portraiture, and it possesses many passages both humorous and -pathetic.” - -_NATIONAL OBSERVER_—“Her cleverness reveals itself in many a -felicitous phrase expressive of just judgment and earnest thought.” - -_ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE_—“It is such as goes far towards the making of -a solid and enduring reputation.” - -_GLASGOW HERALD_—“Her book is a notable one.” - -_SCOTSMAN_—“It is not every day that one lights on a story so -entertaining, clever, and at times even brilliant.” - -_PUBLISHERS’ CIRCULAR_—“The story is thoroughly interesting -throughout, being clever alike in its style, plot, and character -drawing.” - -_WESTMINSTER GAZETTE_—“_Red Rowans_ is far and away above the -average of novels, and, without doubt, one of those books which no -reader of current fiction should miss.” - -_DAILY NEWS_—“The book is written with distinction. It is moving, -picturesque, the character drawing is sensitive and strong.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s._ - - =THE FALL OF A STAR= - - =A Novel= - - BY - - SIR WM. MAGNAY, BART. - -_DAILY CHRONICLE_—“Its interest is breathless and cumulative from -the first page to the last.” - - --------------------- - - WORKS BY RUDYARD KIPLING. - - _Crown 8vo. 6s. each._ - - THE LIGHT THAT FAILED. - SOLDIERS THREE. - WEE WILLIE WINKIE. - LIFE’S HANDICAP. - MANY INVENTIONS. - PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS. - SOLDIER TALES. - THE FIRST JUNGLE BOOK. - THE SECOND JUNGLE BOOK. - CAPTAINS COURAGEOUS. - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - 80,000 copies of this work have been sold. - - _Fcap. 8vo. 6s._ - - =THE CHOIR INVISIBLE= - - BY - - JAMES LANE ALLEN - - AUTHOR OF “SUMMER IN ARCADY,” “A KENTUCKY CARDINAL,” ETC. - -_ACADEMY_—“A book to read, and a book to keep after reading. Mr. -Allen’s gifts are many—a style pellucid and picturesque, a vivid and -disciplined power of characterization, and an intimate knowledge of -a striking epoch and an alluring country.... So magical is the -wilderness environment, so fresh the characters, so buoyant the life -they lead, so companionable, so well balanced, and so touched with -humanity, the author’s personality, that I hereby send him greeting -and thanks for a brave book.... _The Choir Invisible_ is a fine -achievement.” - -_PALL MALL GAZETTE_—“Mr. Allen’s power of character drawing invests -the old, old story with renewed and absorbing interest.... The -fascination of the story lies in great part in Mr. Allen’s graceful -and vivid style.“ - -_DAILY MAIL_—”_The Choir Invisible_ is one of those very few books -which help one to live. And hereby it is beautiful even more than by -reason of its absolute purity of style, its splendid descriptions of -nature, and the level grandeur of its severe, yet warm and -passionate atmosphere.” - -_BRITISH WEEKLY_—“Certainly this is no commonplace book, and I have -failed to do justice to its beauty, its picturesqueness, its style, -its frequent nobility of feeling, and its large, patient charity.” - -_SPEAKER_—“We trust that there are few who read it who will fail to -regard its perusal as one of the new pleasures of their lives.... -One of those rare stories which make a direct appeal alike to the -taste and feeling of most men and women, and which afford a -gratification that is far greater than that of mere critical -approval. It is, in plain English, a beautiful book—beautiful in -language and in sentiments, in design and in execution. Its chief -merit lies in the fact that Mr. Allen has grasped the true spirit of -historical romance, and has shown how fully he understands both the -links which unite, and the time-spaces which divide, the different -generations of man.” - -_SATURDAY REVIEW_—“Mr. James Lane Allen is a writer who cannot well -put pen to paper without revealing how finely sensitive he is to -beauty.” - -_BOOKMAN_—“The main interest is not the revival of old times, but a -love-story which might be of to-day, or any day, a story which -reminds one very pleasantly of Harry Esmond and Lady Castlewood.” - -_ATLANTIC MONTHLY_—“We think he will be a novelist, perhaps even a -great novelist—one of the few who hold large powers of divers sort -in solution to be precipitated in some new unexpected form.” - -_GUARDIAN_—“One of those rare books that will bear reading many -times.” - -_DAILY NEWS_—“Mr. J.L. Allen shows himself a delicate observer, and -a fine literary artist in _The Choir Invisible_.” - -_ST. JAMES’ GAZETTE_—“A book that should be read by all those who -ask for something beside sensationalism in their fiction.” - -_SPECTATOR_—“Marked by beauty of conception, reticence of treatment, -and it has an atmosphere all its own.” - -_DAILY CHRONICLE_—“It is written with singular delicacy and has an -old-world fragrance which seems to come from the classics we keep in -lavender.... There are few who can approach his delicate execution -in the painting of ideal tenderness and fleeting moods.” - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - Transcriber’s Note - -The following issues should be noted. In general obvious errors were -corrected and noted below. The use of the ‘ā’ in Windāhgal, a place -name, is almost universal, and has been corrected where the printer -occasionally neglected to employ it. Where the author’s intent is -unclear, the text is retained. - -Errors of punctuation in the advertisement section at the end of the -text were corrected, silently, in the interest of consistency. - - p. 9 Reisling _Sic._ - - p. 40 [“]but Mrs. Grandison Removed. - - p. 107 —he[—]added— Spurious dash - removed. - - [‘]We colonists Added. - - p. 286 [“]as the energetic proprietors Removed. - - p. 315 so say all of us,[”] my dear Removed. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Plain Living, by Rolf Boldrewood - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLAIN LIVING *** - -***** This file should be named 51404-0.txt or 51404-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/0/51404/ - -Produced by KD Weeks, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/51404-0.zip b/old/51404-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c23a85d..0000000 --- a/old/51404-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51404-h.zip b/old/51404-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index cc92213..0000000 --- a/old/51404-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51404-h/51404-h.htm b/old/51404-h/51404-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index a2fd9a2..0000000 --- a/old/51404-h/51404-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12739 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <title>Plain Living: a Bush Idyll, by Rolf Boldrewood</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } - h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em; } - h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; } - .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; - text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; - border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal; - font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; } - p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; } - .sc { font-variant: small-caps; } - .large { font-size: large; } - .xlarge { font-size: x-large; } - .small { font-size: small; } - .lg-container-b { text-align: center; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-b { clear: both; }} - .lg-container-l { text-align: left; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-l { clear: both; }} - .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: left; } - @media handheld { .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; }} - .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; } - .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } - div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; } - .linegroup .in2 { padding-left: 4.0em; } - .linegroup .in4 { padding-left: 5.0em; } - div.pbb { page-break-before: always; } - hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom:1em; } - @media handheld { hr.pb { display: none; }} - .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always;} - .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; } - .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; } - .id001 { width:200px; } - @media handheld { .id001 { margin-left:40%; width:20%; }} - .ig001 { width:100%; } - .table0 { margin: auto; margin-left: 18%; margin-right: 19%; width: 63%; } - .table1 { margin: auto; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 0%; width: 100%; } - .nf-center { text-align: center; } - .nf-center-c1 { text-align: left; margin: 1em 0; } - .c000 { margin-top: 1em; } - .c001 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c002 { margin-top: 4em; } - .c003 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em; } - .c004 { margin-top: 2em; } - .c005 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; } - .c006 { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c007 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 0.8em; - margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; width: 30%; } - .c008 { margin-top: 2em; font-size: 95%; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c009 { font-size: 95%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c010 { margin-right: 30.56%; font-size: 95%; margin-top: 0.5em; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c011 { margin-right: 5.56%; font-size: 95%; margin-top: 0.5em; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c012 { margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c013 { margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 2em; font-size: 95%; margin-bottom: 0.5em; - } - .c014 { margin-right: 25.00%; font-size: 95%; text-align: right; } - .c015 { margin-right: 5.56%; font-size: 95%; text-align: right; } - .c016 { margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 2em; font-size: 95%; } - .c017 { margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c018 { margin-right: 5.56%; } - .c019 { margin-right: 5.56%; text-align: right; } - .c020 { margin-right: 11.11%; text-align: right; } - .c021 { margin-right: 5.56%; font-size: 95%; } - .c022 { margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 2em; } - .c023 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; padding-right: 1em; } - .c024 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; } - .c025 { margin-right: 5.56%; margin-top: 4em; } - .c026 { margin-left: 13.89%; margin-right: 16.67%; } - .c027 { margin-left: 13.89%; margin-right: 16.67%; margin-top: 0.5em; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c028 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 35%; width: 30%; margin-right: 35%; } - .c029 { margin-left: 13.89%; margin-right: 5.56%; } - .c030 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; padding-right: 1em; } - a:link { text-decoration: none; } - div.tnotes { padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;background-color:#E3E4FA; - border:1px solid silver; margin:1em 5% 0 5%; text-align: justify;} - td.hang { padding-left: 0.50in; text-indent: -0.25in; } - sup { font-size: 0.8em; } - ul.kd1 { list-style-type: none; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 0px; } - div.epubonly { visibility: hidden; display: none; } - .blackletter { font-family: "Old English Text MT", Gothic, serif;} - @media handheld { div.epubonly { visibility: visible; display: block;}} - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Plain Living, by Rolf Boldrewood - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Plain Living - A Bush Idyll - -Author: Rolf Boldrewood - -Release Date: March 8, 2016 [EBook #51404] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLAIN LIVING *** - - - - -Produced by KD Weeks, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Transcriber’s Note:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please -see the transcriber’s <a href='#endnote'>note</a> at the end of this text -for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered -during its preparation.</p> - -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_I'>I</span><span class='xlarge'>PLAIN LIVING</span></div> - <div><em>A BUSH IDYLL</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_II'>II</span> -<img src='images/i_002.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c002' /> -</div> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_III'>III</span> - <h1 class='c003'>PLAIN LIVING <br /> <span class='small'><em>A BUSH IDYLL</em></span></h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div> - <div class='c004'>ROLF BOLDREWOOD</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>AUTHOR OF “ROBBERY UNDER ARMS,” “THE MINER’S RIGHT,” ETC.</span></div> - <div class='c004'><span class="blackletter">London</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited</span></div> - <div>NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</div> - <div>1898</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'><em>The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved.</em></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_IV'>IV</span><span class='sc'>Richard Clay and Sons, Limited</span>,</div> - <div>LONDON AND BUNGAY.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span><span class='xlarge'>PLAIN LIVING</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'><em>A BUSH IDYLL</em></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c006'>Mr. Stamford was riding slowly, wearily -homeward in the late autumnal twilight along -the dusty track which led to the Windāhgil -station. The life of a pastoral tenant of the -Crown in Australia is, for the most part, free, -pleasant, and devoid of the cares which assail so -mordantly the heart of modern man in cities.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But striking exceptions to this rule are -furnished periodically. “A dry season,” in the -bush vernacular, supervenes. In the drear -months which follow, “the flower fadeth, the -grass withereth” as in the olden Pharaoh days. -The waters are “forgotten of the footstep”; -the flocks and herds which, in the years of -plenty, afford so liberal an income, so untrammelled -an existence to their proprietor, are apt -to perish if not removed. Prudence and energy -may serve to modify such a calamity. No -human foresight can avert it.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>In such years, a revengeful person could -desire his worst enemy to be an Australian -squatter. For he would then behold him hardly -tried, sorely tormented, a man doomed to watch -his most cherished possessions daily fading -before his eyes; nightly to lay his head on his -pillow with the conviction that he was so much -poorer since sunrise. He would mark him day -by day, compelled to await the slow-advancing -march of ruin—hopeless, irrevocable—which he -was alike powerless to hasten or evade.</p> - -<p class='c001'>If he were a husband and a father, his -anxieties would be ingeniously heightened and -complicated. The privations of poverty, the -social indignities which his loved ones might be -fated to undergo, would be forever in his -thoughts, before his eyes, darkening his melancholy -days, disturbing his too scanty rest.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Such was the present position, such were the -prospects, of Harold Stamford of Windāhgil. -As he rode slowly along on a favourite hackney—blood-like, -but palpably low in condition—with -bent head and corrugated brow, it needed -but little penetration to note that the “iron had -entered into his soul.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Truth to tell, he had that morning received -an important letter from his banker in Sydney. -Not wholly unexpected; still it had destroyed -the remnant of his last hope. Before its arrival -he had been manfully struggling against fate. -He had hoped against hope. The season might -change. How magical an alteration would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>forty-eight hours of steady rain produce! He -might be able to tide over till next shearing. -The station was being worked with the strictest -economy. How he grudged, indeed, the payment -of their wages to the men who performed -the unthankful task of cutting down the -<em>Casuarina</em> and <em>Acacia pendula</em>, upon which the -starving flocks were now in a great measure -kept alive!</p> - -<p class='c001'>But for that abnormal expenditure, he and -his boy Hubert, gallant, high-hearted fellow -that he was, might make shift to do the station -work themselves until next shearing. How -they had worked, too, all of them! Had not -the girls turned themselves into cooks and -laundresses for weeks at a time! Had not his -wife (delicate, refined Linda Carisforth—who -would have thought to see a broom in those -hands?) worn herself well-nigh to death, supplementing -the details of household work, when -servants were inefficient, or, indeed, not to be -procured! And was this to be the end of all? -Of the years of patient labour, of ungrudging -self-denial, of so much care and forethought, -the fruit of which he had seen in the distance, -a modest competence, an assured position? A -well-improved freehold estate comprising the -old homestead, and a portion of the fertile lands -of Windāhgil, once the crack station of the -district, which Hubert should inherit after him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was hard--very hard! As he came near -the comfortable, roomy cottage, and marked the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>orchard trees, the tiny vineyard green with -trailing streamers in despite of the weary, -sickening, cruel drought, his heart swelled nigh -to bursting as he thought how soon this ark of -their fortunes might be reft from them.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Surely there must be some means of escape! -Providence would never be so hard! God’s -mercy was above all. In it he would trust -until the actual moment of doom. And yet, -as he marked the desolate, dusty waste across -which the melancholy flocks feebly paced; as -he saw on every side the carcases of animals -that had succumbed to long remorseless famine; -as he watched the red sun sinking below the -hard, unclouded sky, a sense of despair fell like -lead upon his heart, and he groaned aloud.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hallo, governor!” cried out a cheery -voice from a clump of timber which he had -approached without observing, “you and old -Sindbad look pretty well told out! I thought -you were going to ride over me and the team, -in your very brown study. But joking apart, -dear old dad, you look awfully down on it. -Times are bad, and it’s never going to rain -again, is it? But we can’t afford to have you -throwing up the sponge. <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>Fortuna favet -fortibus</em></span>, that’s our heraldic motto. Why, there -are lots of chances, and any amount of fortunes, -going begging yet.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Would you point out one or two of them, -Master Hubert?” said his father, relaxing his -features as he looked with an air of pride on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>the well-built youngster, who stood with bare -throat and sun-bronzed, sinewy arms beside a -dray upon which was a high-piled load of firewood.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, let us see! if the worst comes to -the worst, you and I must clear out, governor, -and take up this new Kimberley country. I’ve -got ten years’ work in me right off the reel.” -Here the boy raised his head, and stretched his -wide, yet graceful shoulders; “and so have -you, dad, if you wouldn’t fret so over what -can’t be helped. You’d better get home, -though, mother’s been expecting you this hour. -I’ll be in as soon as I’ve put on this last log. -This load ought to keep them in firewood for a -month.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You’re a good boy, Hubert. I’ll ride on; -don’t knock any more skin off your hands than -is absolutely necessary, though,” pointing to a -bleeding patch about half an inch square, from -which the cuticle had been recently removed. “A -gentleman should consider his hands, even when -he is obliged to work. Besides, in this weather -there is a little danger of inflammation.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, that!” said the youngster with the -fine carelessness of early manhood. “Scratches -don’t count in the bush. I wish my clothes -would heal of themselves when they get torn. -It would save poor mother’s everlasting stitch, -stitch, a little, and her eyes too, poor dear! -Now, you go on, dad, and have your bath, and -make yourself comfortable before I come in. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>A new magazine came by post to-day, and the -last <em>Australasian</em>. Laura’s got such a song too. -We’re going to have no end of an evening, if -you’ll only pull yourself together a bit. Now -you won’t fret about this miserable season, will -you? It’s bad enough, of course, but it’s no -use lying down to it—now, is it?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Right, my boy; we must all do our best, -and trust in God’s mercy. He has helped us -hitherto. It is cowardly to despair. I thank -Him that I have children whom I can be proud -of, whether good or ill fortune betide.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Stamford put spurs to his horse. The -leg-weary brute threw up his head gamely, and, -true to his blood, made shift to cover the remaining -distance from the homestead at a brisk -pace. As he rode into the stable yard, a figure -clad in a jersey, a pair of trousers, and a bathing -towel, which turned out to be an eager lad of -twelve, ran up to him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Give me Sindbad, father; I’m just going -down to the river for a swim, and I’ll give him -one too. It will freshen him up. I’ll scrape -him up a bit of lucerne, just a taste; his chaff -and corn are in the manger all ready.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Take him, Dick; but don’t stay in too -long. It’s getting dark, and tea will soon be -ready.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The boy sprang into the saddle, and, touching -the old horse with his bare heels, started off on -a canter over the river meadow, now comparatively -cool in the growing twilight, towards a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>gravelly ford in which the mountain water still -ran strong and clear.</p> - -<p class='c001'>With a sigh of relief, his father walked -slowly forward through the garden gate and -into the broad verandah of the cottage. Dropping -listlessly into a great Cingalese cane chair, -he looked round with an air of exhaustion and -despondency. Below him was a well-grown -orchard, with rows of fruit trees, the size and -spreading foliage of which showed as well great -age as the fertility of the soil. The murmuring -sound of the river over the rocky shallows was -plainly audible. Dark-shadowed eucalypti -marked its winding course. As the wearied -man lay motionless on the couch, the night air -from the meadow played freshly cool against his -temples. Stars arose of wondrous southern -brilliancy. Dark blue and cloudless, the sky -was undimmed. Strange cries came from the -woods. A solemn hush fell over all things. It -was an hour unspeakably calm and solemn—restful -to the spirit after the long, burdensome, -heated day.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ah, me!” sighed he; “how many an -evening I have enjoyed from this very spot, at -this self-same hour! Is it possible that we are -to be driven out even from this loved retreat?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A sweet girlish voice suddenly awoke him -from his reverie, as one of the casement -windows opened, and a slight, youthful figure -stood at his shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“No wonder you are ashamed, you mean old -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>daddy! Here have mother and I been exerting -ourselves this hot afternoon to provide you with -a superior entertainment, quite a club dinner in -its way; attired ourselves, too, in the most -attractive manner—look at me, for instance—and -what is our reward? Why, instead of going -to dress sensibly, you sit mooning here, and -everything will be spoiled.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My darling! I am ready for my bath, I -promise you; but I am tired, and perhaps a little -discouraged. I have had a long day, and seen -nothing to cheer me either.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Poor old father! So have we all; so has -mother, so has Hubert, so have I and Linda. -But it’s no use giving in, is it? Now walk off, -there’s a dear! You’re not so very tired, unless -your constitution has broken down all of a -sudden. It takes a good day to knock you up, -that I know. But we must all put a good face -on it—mustn’t we?—till we’re <em>quite</em> sure that -the battle’s lost. The Prussians may come up -yet, you know!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He drew the girl’s face over to his own, and -kissed her fondly. Laura Stamford was indeed -a daughter that a father might proudly look -upon, that her mother might trust to be her -best aid and comfort, loving in prosperity, -lightsome of heart as the bird that sings at -dawn, brave in adversity, and strong to suffer -for those she loved.</p> - -<p class='c001'>All innocent she of the world’s hard ways, its -lurid lights, its dread shadows. Proud, pure, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>unselfish in every thought and feeling, all the -strength of her nature went out in fondness for -those darlings of her heart, the inmates of -that cherished home, wherein they had never as -yet known sorrow. The fateful passion which -makes or mars all womanhood was for her as yet -in the future. What prayers had ascended to -Heaven that her choice might be blessed, her -happiness assured!</p> - -<p class='c001'>“This is the time for action, no more contemplation,” -she said, with a mock heroic air; -“the shower bath is filled; your evening clothes -are ready in the dressing-room; mother is -putting the last touch to her cap, Andiamo!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>When the family met at the tea-table—a -comprehensive meal which, though not claiming -the rank of dinner, furnished most of its requisites—Mr. -Stamford owned that life wore a -brighter prospect.</p> - -<p class='c001'>His wife and daughters in tasteful, though -not ostentatious, evening attire would have -graced a more brilliant entertainment. The -boys, cool and fresh after their swim in the -river, were happy and cheerful. Hubert, -correctly attired, and much benefited by his -bath and toilette, had done justice to his manifest -good looks.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The well-cooked, neatly served meal, with -the aid of a few glasses of sound Australian -Reisling, was highly restorative. All these permissible -palliatives tended to recreate tone and -allay nervous depression. “The banker’s letter -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>notwithstanding, things might not be so very -bad,” the squatter thought. He would go to -town. He might make other arrangements. -It might even rain. If the worst came to the -worst, he might be able to change his account. -If things altered for the better, there was no use -desponding. If, again, all were lost, it were -better to confront fate boldly.</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c001'>“Shall I pull through, after all?” said -Mr. Stamford to himself, for the fiftieth time, -as he looked over the morning papers at Batty’s -Hotel, about a week after the occurrences lately -referred to. In a mechanical way, his eyes and -a subsection of his brain provided him with the -information that, in spite of his misfortunes, the -progress of Australian civilisation went on -pretty much as usual. Floods in one colony, -fires in another. The Messageries steamer -<em>Caledonien</em> just in. The <em>Carthage</em> (P. and O.) -just sailed with an aristocratic passenger list. -Burglars cleverly captured. Larrikins difficult -of extinction. The wheat crop fair, maize only -so-so. These important items were registered -in the brooding man’s duplex-acting brain after -a fashion. But in one corner of that mysterious -store-house, printing machine, signal-station, -whatnot, <em>one thought</em> was steadily repeating itself -with bell-like regularity. “What if the bank’s -ultimatum is, no further advance, no further -advance, no further ad—--”</p> - -<p class='c001'>After breakfast, sadly resolved, he wended his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>way to the palace of finance, with the potentate -of which he was to undergo so momentous an -interview.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Heart-sick and apprehensive as he was, he -could not avoid noting with quick appreciation -the sights and sounds of civilisation which -pressed themselves on his senses as he walked in -a leisurely manner towards the Bank of New -Guinea. “What wonders and miracles daily -pass before one’s eyes in a city,” he said to -himself, “when one has been as long away from -town as I have! What a gallery of studies to -a man, after a quiet bush life, is comprised in -the everyday life of a large city! What processions -of humanity—what light and colour! -What models of art, strength, industry! What -endless romances in the faces of the very men -and women that pass and repass so ceaselessly! -Strange and how wonderful is all this! -Glorious, too, the ocean breath that fans the -pale faces of the city dwellers! What would I -not give for a month’s leisure and a quiet heart -in which to enjoy it all!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The solemn chime of a turret clock struck -ten. It aroused Stamford to a sense of the -beginning of the commercial day, and his urgent -necessity to face the enemy, whose outposts -were so dangerously near his fortress.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The ponderously ornate outer door of the -Bank of New Guinea had but just swung open -as he passed in, preceding but by a second a -portly, silk-coated personage, apparently equally -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>anxious for an early interview. He looked disappointed -as he saw Stamford make his way to -the manager’s room.</p> - -<p class='c001'>For one moment he hesitated, then said: “If -your business is not important, sir, perhaps you -won’t mind my going in first?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I’m sorry to say it <em>is</em> important,” he replied, -with his customary frankness; “but I -will promise you not to take up a minute more -of Mr. Merton’s valuable time than I can -help.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The capitalist bowed gravely as Harold -Stamford passed into the fateful reception-room, -of which the very air seemed to him to be full -of impalpable tragedies.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The manager’s manner was pleasant and -gentlemanlike. The weather, the state of the -country, and the political situation were glanced -at conversationally. There was no appearance -of haste to approach the purely financial topic -which lay so near the thoughts of both. Then -the visitor took the initiative.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I had your letter last week about my -account, Mr. Merton. What is the bank -going to do in my case? I came down on -purpose to see you.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The banker’s face became grave. It was the -crossing of swords, <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>en garde</em></span> as it were. And -the financial duel began.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I trust, Mr. Stamford, that we shall be able -to make satisfactory arrangements. You are an -old constituent, and one in whom the bank has -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>reposed the fullest confidence; but,” here the -banker pushed up his hair, and his face assumed -an altered expression, “the directors have drawn -my attention to the state of your account, and -I feel called upon to speak decidedly. It must -be reduced.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But how am I to reduce it? You hold all -my securities. It is idle to talk thus; pardon -me if I am a little brusque, but I must sell -Windāhgil—sell the old place, and clear out -without a penny if I do not get time—a few -months of time—from the bank! You know -as well as I do that it is impossible to dispose -of stations now at a reasonable price. Why, -you can hardly get the value of the sheep! -Look at Wharton’s Bundah Creek how it was -given away the other day. Fifteen thousand -good sheep, run all fenced, good brick house, -frontage to a navigable river. What did it -bring? Six and threepence a head. Six and -threepence! With everything given in, even -to his furniture, poor devil! Why, the ewe -cost him twelve shillings, five years before. -Sale! It was a murder, a mockery! And is -Windāhgil to go like that, after all my hard -work? Am I and my children to be turned -out penniless because the bank refuses me -another year’s grace? The seasons are just as -sure to change as we are to have a new moon -next month. I have always paid up the interest -and part of the principal regularly, have I not? -I have lived upon so little too! My poor wife -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>and children for these last long years have been -so patient! Is there no mercy, not even -ordinary consideration to be shown me?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My dear Mr. Stamford,” said the manager -kindly, “do not permit yourself to be excited -prematurely. Whatever happens you have my -fullest sympathy. If any one receives consideration -from the bank, you will do so. You -have done everything that an energetic, honourable -man could have done. I wish I could say -the same of all our constituents. But the -seasons have been against you, and you must -understand that, although personally I would -run any fair mercantile risk for your sake, even -to the extent of straining my relations with the -directors, I have not the power; I must obey -orders, and these are precise. If a certain -policy is decided upon by those who guide the -affairs of this company, I must simply carry -out instructions. Yours is a hard case, a <em>very</em> -hard case; but you are not alone, I can tell you -in confidence.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is there nothing I can do?” pleaded the -ruined man, instinctively beholding the last -plank slipping from beneath his feet.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t give in yet,” said Merton kindly. -“Get one of these newly-started Mortgage and -Agency Companies to take up your account. -They have been organised chiefly, I am informed, -with a view to get a share of the -pastoral loan business, which is now assuming -such gigantic proportions. They are enabled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>to make easier terms than we can afford to do; -though, after all, this station pawn business is -not legitimate banking. If you have any friend -who would join in the security it would, -perhaps, smooth the way.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I will try,” said Stamford, a ray of hope, -slender but still definite, illumining the darkness -of his soul. “There may be a chance, and I -thank you, Mr. Merton, for the suggestion, and -your wish to aid me. Good morning!” He -took his hat and passed through the waiting-room, -somewhat sternly regarded by the -capitalist, who promptly arose as the inner door -opened. But Harold Stamford heeded him not, -and threading the thronged atrium, re-entered -once more the city pageant, novel and attractive -to him in spite of his misery. To-day he -mechanically took the seaward direction, walking -far and fast until he found himself among -the smaller shops and unmistakable “waterside -characters” of Lower George Street. Here he -remembered that there were stone stairs at -which, in his boyhood’s days, he had so often -watched the boats return or depart on their -tiny voyages. A low stone wall defended the -street on that side, while permitting a view of -the buildings and operations of a wharf. -Beyond lay the harbour alive with sail and -steam. In his face blew freshly the salt odours -of the deep, the murmuring voice of the sea -wave was in his ears, the magic of the ocean -stole once more into his being.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>In his youth he had delighted in boating, and -many a day of careless, unclouded joy could he -recall, passed amid the very scenes and sounds -that now lay around him. Long, happy days -spent in fishing when the fair wind carried the -boy sailors far away through the outer bays or -even through the grand portals where the sandstone -pillars have borne the fret of the South -Pacific deep for uncounted centuries. The long -beat back against the wind, the joyous return, -the pleasant evening, the dreamless slumber. -He remembered it all. What a heaven of -bliss, had he but known it; and what an inferno -of debt, ruin, and despair seemed yawning -before him now!</p> - -<p class='c001'>He leaned over the old stone wall and -watched mechanically the shadow of a passing -squall deepen the colour of the blue waters of -the bay. After a while, his spirits rose -insensibly. He even took comfort from the -fact that after the sudden tempest had brooded -ominously over the darkening water, the clouds -suddenly opened—the blue sky spread itself like -an azure mantle over the rejoicing firmament—the -golden sun reappeared, and Nature assumed -the smile that is rarely far from her brow in -the bright lands of the South.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I may have another chance yet,” Stamford -said to himself. “Why should I despair? -Many a man now overladen with wealth has -passed into a bank on such an errand as mine, -uncertain whether he should return (financially) -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>alive. Are not there Hobson, Walters, Adamson—ever -so many others—who have gone -through that fiery trial? I must fight the -battle to the end. My Waterloo is not yet -lost. ‘The Prussians may come up,’ as darling -Laura said.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Although receiving the advice of Mr. -Merton, whom he personally knew and -respected, mainly in good faith, he was -sufficiently experienced in the ways of the world -to mingle distrust with his expectations. It -was not such an unknown thing with bankers to -“shunt” a doubtful or unprofitable constituent -upon a less wary student of finance. Might it -not be so in this case? Or would not the -manager of the agency company indicated -regard him in that light? How hard it was to -decide! However, he would try his fortune. -He could do himself no more harm.</p> - -<p class='c001'>So he turned wearily from the dancing waters -and the breezy bay, and retracing his steps -through the crowded thoroughfare, sought the -imposing freestone mansion in which were -located the offices of the Austral Agency Company.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“How these money-changing establishments -house themselves!” he said. “And we borrowers -pay for it with our heart’s blood,” he -added, bitterly. “Here goes, however!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He was not doomed on this occasion to any -lingering preparatory torture, for in that light -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>he had come to regard all ante-chamber detentions. -He accepted it as a good omen that -he was informed on sending in his card, that -Mr. Barrington Hope was disengaged, and -would be found in his private room.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c006'>Mr. Stamford was at once strongly prepossessed -in favour of the man before whom he -had come prepared to make a full statement of -his affairs, and to request—to all but implore—temporary -accommodation. Bah! how bald a -sound it had! How unpleasant the formula! -And yet Harold Stamford knew that the -security was sound, the interest and principal -nearly as certain to be paid in full as anything -can be in this uncertain world of ours. Still, -such was the condition of the money market -that he could not help feeling like a beggar. -His pride rebelled against the attitude which he -felt forced to take. Nevertheless, for the sake -of the sweet, careworn face at home, the tender -flowerets he loved so well, he braced himself for -the ordeal.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Barrington Hope’s appearance, not less -than his manner, was reassuring. A tall, commanding -figure of the true Anglo-Saxon type, -his was a countenance in which opposing -qualities seemed struggling for the mastery.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>In the glint of the grey eyes, in the sympathetic -smile, in the deep, soft voice there was a -wealth of generosity, while the firm mouth -and strongly set jaw betokened a sternness of -purpose which boded ill for the adversary in any -of the modern forms of the duello—personal or -otherwise.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Mr. Stamford,” he said, “I have heard -your name mentioned by friends. What can I -do for you? But if it be not a waste of time -in your case—though you squatters are not so -hard-worked in town as we slaves of the desk—we -might as well lunch first, if you will give me -the pleasure of your company at the Excelsior. -What do you say?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Stamford, in his misery, had taken scant -heed of the hours. He was astonished to find -that the morning had fled. He felt minded to -decline, but in the kindly face of his possible -entertainer he saw the marks of continuous -mental exertion, mingled with the easily-recognised -imprints of anxious responsibility. A -feeling of sadness came over him, as he looked -again—of pity for the ceaseless toil to which it -seemed hard that a man in the flower of his -prime should be doomed—that unending mental -grind, of which he, in common with most men -who have lived away from cities, had so cordial -an abhorrence. “Poor fellow!” he said to himself, -“he is not more than ten years older than -Hubert, and yet what an eternity of thought -seems engraven in his face. I should be sorry to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>see them change places, poor as we are, and -may be.” He thought this in the moment -which he passed in fixing his eyes on the -countenance of Barrington Hope. What he -said, was: “I shall have much pleasure; I -really did not know it was so late. My time in -town, however, is scarcely so valuable as yours. -So we may as well devote half an hour to the -repairing of the tissue.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Stamford’s wanderings in Lower George -Street and the unfamiliar surroundings of the -metropolis had so far overcome the poignancy -of his woe as to provide him with a reasonable -appetite. The <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>cuisine</em></span> of the Excelsior, and -the flavour of a bottle of extremely sound Dalwood -claret, did not appeal to his senses in vain. -The well-cooked, well-served repast concluded, -he felt like another man; and though distrusting -his present sensations as being artificially -rose-coloured, he yet regarded the -possibility of life more hopefully.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It has done me good,” he said in his heart; -“and it can’t have done him any harm. I feel -better able to stand up to hard Fate and her -shrewd blows than before.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They chatted pleasantly till the return to the -office, when Mr. Hope hung up his hat, and -apparently removed a portion of his amiability -of expression at the same time. He motioned -his visitor to a chair, produced a box of cigars, -which, with a grotesque mediæval matchbox, he -pushed towards him. Lighting one for himself, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>he leaned back in his chair and said “Now then -for business!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The squatter offered a tabulated statement, -originally prepared for the bank, setting forth -the exact number of the livestock on Windāhgil, -their sexes and ages, the position and area of -the run, the number of acres bought, controlled -or secured; the amount of debt for which the -bank held mortgage, the probable value of the -whole property at current rates. Of all of -which particulars Mr. Hope took heed closely -and carefully. Mr. Stamford became suddenly -silent, and indeed broke down at one stage of -the affair, in which he was describing the value -of the improvements, and mentioning a comfortable -cottage, standing amid a well-grown -orchard on the bank of a river, with out-buildings -of a superior nature grouped around.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then Mr. Hope interposed. “You propose -to me to take up your account, which you will -remove from the Bank of New Guinea. You -are aware that there is considerable risk.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>(“Hang it!” Mr. Stamford told himself; -“I have heard that surely before. I know what -you are going to say now. But why do you -all, you financiers, like to keep an unlucky devil -so on the tenter-hooks?”)</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Hope went on quietly and rather -sonorously. “Yes! there has been a large -amount of forced realisation going on of late. -Banks are tightening fast. The rainfall of the -interior has been exceptionally bad. I think it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>probable that the Bank of New Guinea has none -too good an opinion of your account. But I -always back my own theory in finance. I have -great reason to believe, Mr. Stamford, that -heavy rain will fall within the next month or -two. I have watched the weather signs carefully -of late years. I am taking—during this -season, at any rate—a strong lead in wool and -stock, which I expect to rise. Everything is -extremely low at present—ruinously so, the -season disastrously dry. But from these very -dry seasons I foretell a change which must be -for the better. I have much pleasure in stating -that the Austral Agency Company will take up -your account, Mr. Stamford, and carry you on -for two years at the same rate of interest you -have been paying.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Stamford made a commencement of -thanking him, or at least of expressing his -entire satisfaction with the new arrangement; -but, curious to relate, he could not speak. The -mental strain had been too great. The -uncertain footing to which he had so long been -clinging between ruin and comparative safety -had rendered his brain dizzy.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He had been afraid to picture the next scene -of the tragedy, when the fatal fiat of the Bank -Autocrat should have gone forth,—the wrench -of parting from the dear old place they had all -loved so well. The unpretending, but still -commodious dwelling to which he had brought -his fond, true wife, while yet a young mother. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>The garden in which they had planted so many -a tree, so many a flower together. The -unchecked freedom of station life, with its -general tone of abundance and liberality. All -these surroundings and comforts were to be -exchanged—if things were not arranged—for -what? For a small house in town, for a lower—how -much lower!—standard of life and society, -perhaps even for poverty and privation, which -it would cut him to the heart to see shared by -those patient exiles from their pastoral Eden.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When Mr. Stamford had sufficiently recovered -himself he thanked Mr. Hope with somewhat -unaccustomed fervour, for he was an undemonstrative -man, reserved as to his deeper feelings. -But the manager of the Austral Agency -Company would not accept thanks. “It may -wear the appearance of a kindness, but it is -not so in reality,” he said. “Do not mistake -me. It is a hard thing to say, but if it seemed -such to me, it would be my duty not to do it. -It is the merest matter of calculation. I am -glad, of course, if it falls in with your -convenience.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Here he looked kindly at his client—for such -he had become—as if he fain would have convinced -him of his stern utilitarian temperament. -But, as he had remarked before, Mr. Hope’s -eyes and his sentiments contradicted one another.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You have saved my home, the valued outcome -of many a year’s hard work—it may be -my life also. That is all. And I’m not to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>thank you? Do not talk in so cold-blooded a -manner; I cannot bear it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My dear sir,” said Mr. Hope, with calm, -half-pitying expression, “I am afraid you are -not a particularly good man of business. It is -as unfair to praise me now for ‘carrying you -on’ for another year or two, as it will be to -blame me for selling you up some fine day, if -I am compelled to do so.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Anyhow, it is a reprieve from execution. -When shall I call again?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“To-morrow morning, before twelve, let us -say. I shall want you to sign a mortgage—a -necessary evil; and if you bring me an exact -amount of your indebtedness to the Bank of -New Guinea, I will give you a cheque for it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A cheque for it!” How magnificent was -the sound. Mr. Stamford had drawn some -tolerably large cheques in his time, which had -been duly honoured, but of late years the -cheque-drawing method had fallen much into -abeyance.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Nevertheless, he felt like Aladdin, suddenly -gifted with the wonderful lamp. The sense of -security and the guarantee of funds, for even -their moderate and necessary expenses, appeared -to open to him vistas of wealth and power -verging on Oriental luxury.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He lost no time; indeed he just managed to -gain his bank before its enormous embossed -outer door was closed, when he marched into -the manager’s room with so radiant a countenance -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>that the experienced centurion of finance -saw plainly what had happened.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t trouble yourself to speak,” he said. -“It’s all written on your forehead. We bankers -can decipher hieroglyphs invisible to other men. -‘Want my account made up—securities -ready to be delivered—release—cheque for -amount in full.’ Who is the reckless <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>entrepreneur</em></span>?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The Austral Agency Company,” he replied, -feeling rather cooled down by this very -accurate mind-reading; “but you seem to know -so much, you ought to know that too.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My dear fellow, I congratulate you!” Mr. -Merton said, getting up and shaking him warmly -by the hand. “I beg your pardon; but really, -any child could see that you had been -successful; and I began to think that it must -have been one of Barrington Hope’s long -shots. A very fine fellow, young but talented; -in finance operates boldly. I don’t say he’s -wrong, mind you, but rather bold. Everything -will be ready for you to-morrow morning. Look -in just before ten—by the private door.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Stamford did look in. How many times -had he walked to those same bank doors with an -aching heart, in which the dull throb of conscious -care was rarely stilled! Many times had he -quitted that building with a sense of temporary -relief; many times with a more acutely -heightened sense of misery, and a conviction -that Fate had done her worst. But never, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>perhaps, before had he passed those fateful portals -with so marked a sense of independence and -freedom as on the present occasion.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He had cast away the burden of care, at any -rate for two years—two whole years! It was -an eternity in his present state of overwrought -feeling. He felt like a man who in old days -had been bound on the rack—had counted the -dread contrivances for tearing muscles and -straining sinews—who had endured the first -preliminary wrench, and then, at a word, was -suddenly loosed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Such was now his joyous relief from inward -agony, from the internal throbs which rend the -heart and strain to bursting the wondrous tissue -which connects soul and sense. The man who -had decreed all this was to him a king—nay, as -a god. And in his prayer that night, after he -had entreated humbly for the welfare of wife -and children in his absence, and for his own safe -return to their love and tenderness, Barrington -Hope came after those beloved names, included -in a petition for mercy at the hands of the All-wise.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was not a long business that clearing of -scores with the Bank of New Guinea under -these exceptional circumstances. Such and such -was the debit balance, a sufficiently grave one in -a season when it had not rained, “to signify,” -for about three years, when stock was unsalable, -when money was unprecedentedly tight, but not, -perhaps amounting to more than one-third of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>the real value of the property. Here were the -mortgages. One secured upon the freehold, the -other upon stock and station, furniture and -effects.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes!” admitted Mr. Stamford, looking -over it. “It is a comprehensive document; it -includes everything on the place—the house and -all that therein is, every hoof of stock, hacks -and harness horses, saddles and bridles—only -excepting the clothes on our backs. Good God! -if we had lost all! And who knows whether -we may not have to give them up yet.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My dear Stamford,” said the banker, -“you’re almost too sentimental to be a squatter, -though I grant you it requires a man of no -ordinary power of imagination to look forward -from your dusty pastures and dying sheep (as I -am informed) to a season of waving grass and -fat stock. Why only this morning, I see that -on Modlah, North Queensland, they have lost -eighty thousand sheep already!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That means they’ll have a flood in three -months,” answered Stamford, forcing a laugh. -“We <em>must</em> have rain. This awfully sultry -weather is sure to bring it on sooner or later.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ah! but when?” said Mr. Merton, corrugating -his brow, as he mentally ran over the -list of heavily-weighted station accounts to -which this simple natural phenomenon would -make so stupendous a difference. “If you or -I could tell whether it would fall in torrents -this year or next, it would be like—--”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>“Like spotting the winner of the Melbourne -Cup before the odds began to shorten—eh, -Merton? Good Heavens! to think I feel in a -mood to jest with my banker. That dread -functionary! What is it Lever says—that -quarrelling with your wife is like boxing with -your doctor, who knows where to plant the -blow that would, maybe, be the death of you? -Such is your banker’s fatal strength.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I envy you your recovered spirits, my dear -fellow,” said the over-worked man of figures, -with a weary smile, glancing towards a pile of -papers on his table. “Perhaps things will turn -out well for you and all of us after all. You -are not the only one, believe me, whose fate has -been trembling in the balance. You don’t think -it’s too pleasant for us either, do you? Well, -I’ll send young Backwater down to Barrington -Hope with these documents. You can go with -him, and he will give a receipt for the cheque. -For the rest, my congratulations and best -wishes.” He pressed an electric knob, the door -opened, a clerk looked in. “Tell Mr. Overdue -I am at liberty now. Good bye, Stamford, and -God bless you!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>On the previous day Mr. Stamford had betaken -himself to his hotel immediately after -quitting Mr. Barrington Hope’s office, and -poured out his soul with fullest unreserve in a -long letter to his wife, in which he had informed -her of the great and glorious news, and with his -usual sanguine disposition to improve on each -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>temporary ray of sunshine, had predicted wonders -in the future.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What my present feelings are, even you, my -darling Linda—sharer that you have ever been -in every thought of my heart—can hardly realise. -I know that you will say that only the present -pressure is removed. The misfortune we have -all so long, so sadly dreaded, which involves the -loss of our dear old home, the poverty of our -children, and woe unutterable for ourselves, may -yet be slowly advancing on us. You hope I will -be prudent, and take nothing for granted until -it shall have been proved. I am not to relax -even the smallest endeavour to right ourselves, -or suffer myself to be led into any fresh expense, -no matter how bright, or rather (pastoral joke -of the period) how cloudy, the present outlook, -till rain comes—until rains comes; even then to -remember that there is lost ground to recover, -much headway to make up.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My dearest, I am as sure that you have got -all these warning voices ready to put into your -letter as if you phonographed them, and I recognised -the low, sweet tones which have ever -been for me so instinct with love and wisdom. -But I feel that, on this present occasion—(I hear -you interpose, ‘My dearest Harold, how often -have you said so before!’)—there is no need for -any extraordinary prudence. I am confident that -the season will change, or that something advantageous -will happen long before this new advance -is likely to be called in. Mr. Hope assures me -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>that no sudden demand will at any time be made, -that all reasonable time will be given; that if -the interest be but regularly paid, the Company -is in a position, from their control of English -capital, to give better terms than any colonial -institution of the same nature. I see you shake -your wise, distrustful head. My dearest, you -women, who are said to be gifted with so much -imagination in many ways, possess but little in -matters of business. I have often told you so. -This time I hope to convince you of the superior -forecast of our sex.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And now give my love to our darlings. Tell -them I shall give practical expression to my fondness -for them for this once, only this once; really, -I must be a little extravagant. I shall probably -stay down here for another week or ten days.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now that I am in town I may just as well -enjoy myself a little, and get up a reserve fund -of health and strength for future emergencies. -I don’t complain, as you know, but I think I -shall be all the better for another week’s sea air. -I met my cousin, Bob Grandison, in the street -to-day. Kind as usual, though he studiously -avoided all allusion to business; wanted me to -stay at Chatsworth House for a few days. I -wouldn’t do that. I don’t care for Mrs. -Grandison sufficiently; but I am going to a -swell dinner there on Friday. And now, dearest, -yours ever and always, fondly, lovingly, -<span class='sc'>Harold Stamford</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Having sent off this characteristic epistle, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>Mr. Stamford felt as easy in his mind as if he -had provided his family with everything they -could possibly want for a year. He was partially -endowed with that Sheridanesque temperament -which dismissed renewed acceptances as -liabilities discharged, and viewed all debentures -as debts of the future which a kindly Providence -might be safely trusted to find means to pay.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Capable of extraordinary effort under pressure -or the excitement of emergency; personally -economical; temperate, and, above all, benevolent -of intention towards every living creature, -it must be admitted that Harold Stamford was -instinctively prone frankly to enjoy the present -and to take the future on trust.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Much of this joyous confidence had been -“knocked out of him”—as he familiarly -phrased it—by the austere course of events. -He had for five years worked harder than any -of his own servants. He had contented himself -with but the bare necessaries of food and clothing. -Nothing had been purchased that could -in any way be done without by that much-enduring, -conscientious household, the members -of which had made high resolve to do battle -with remorseless Nature and unmerited misfortune.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And well indeed had all fought, all endured, -during the long, dreary, dusty summers—the -cloudless, mocking, rainless winters of past -years. The family garrison had stood to their -guns; had not given back an inch. The men -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>had toiled and ridden, watched and worked, -from earliest dawn to the still, starlit depths of -many a midnight. The tenderly-nurtured -mother and her fair, proud girls had cooked the -dinners, washed the clothes, faithfully performed -all, even the humblest, household work, with -weary hands and tired eyes, for weeks and -months together. Still, through all the uncongenial -drudgery, their hearts had been firm -with hope and the pride of fulfilled duty. And -now Harold Stamford told himself that the -enemy was in retreat, that the siege was about -to be raised.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c006'>Mr. Stamford, having fulfilled his home -duties temporarily in this liberal and satisfactory -manner, felt himself at liberty to enter -upon justifiable recreations with an easy conscience. -He was by no means a person of -luxurious tastes. But there had been always -certain dainty meats, intellectually speaking, -which his soul loved. These are rarely to be -met with save in large cities. It had been an -abiding regret with this man that his narrow -circumstances had shut him out from the inner -circles of art and literature. Now, he promised -himself, at any rate, a taste of these long-forbidden -repasts.</p> - -<p class='c001'>On this memorable afternoon he betook himself -only to the sea-marge, where he lay dreaming -in the shade of an overhanging fig-tree -during the closing hours of day. What an -unutterable luxury was it to his desert-worn -soul thus to repose with the rhythmic roll of -the surges in his ear—before his half-shut eyes -the wondrous, ever-changing magic mirror of -the ocean!</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>“What an alteration,” thought he, “had a -single day wrought in his destiny! What a -different person was he from the care-burdened, -desponding man who had seen no possible outlet -from the path of sorrow and disaster, at the end -of which lay the grisly form of Ruin, like some -fell monster watching for prey. Now the airs -of Paradise were around him. The fresh salt -odours of the deep, the whispering breezes which -fanned his cheek, which cooled his throbbing -brow, how strangely contrasted were these surroundings -with the shrivelled, arid waste, the -burning sun-blast, the endless monotony of pale-hued -woodland, which he had so lately quitted!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>As the low sun fell beneath the horizon verge, -he watched the golden wavelet and the crimson -sky mingle in one supreme colour study. He -heard the night wind come moaning up from -misty unknown seas of the farthest South, where -the hungry billow lay hushed to rest in eternal -ice-fields, where dwelt the mystery and dread of -polar wastes.</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c001'>Then, with the darkening eve, the pageant -glided into the vestibule of night and Mr. Stamford -somewhat hastily arose, bethinking himself -of the dining hour at Chatsworth House. He -had not overmuch time to spare, but a few -minutes before the appointed hour his cab -deposited him beside the Pompeian mosaic -which composed the floor of the portico. A -wide, cool hall, gay with encaustic tiles, received -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>him, thence to be ushered by the accurately-costumed -footman into the drawing-room, already -fairly astir with the expected company.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He was not an unfamiliar guest, but his present -temper inclined him to consider more closely -the curious inequalities of life—the various -modes in which persons, not widely differing -in tastes and aspirations, are socially encircled. -What a contrast was there between the abounding -luxury here heaped up, pressed down and -running over, and the homely surroundings of -his own home, from which nevertheless the -danger of departure had well-nigh driven him -mad. The parquet floors, the glittering treasures -of the overmantels, the lounges, the dado, -the friezes, the rare china, the plaques, the -antique and the modern collections, each a -study, the cost of which would have gone nigh -to buy halt Windāhgil.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When the hostess was informed by the imposing -butler that dinner was served, and the guests -filed into the dining-room, Mr. Stamford was -nearly as much astonished by the magnificence -of the repast and the concomitants thereof as if -he had for the first time in his life beheld -such splendours. In earlier days, now almost -forgotten, such repasts had been to him sufficiently -familiar. But these latter seasons of -drought and despair had wholly, or in great -part, excluded all thought of the pomps and -vanities of life. So he smiled to himself, as he -took the arm of Miss Crewit the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>passée</em></span> society -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>damsel to whom, by the fiat of Mrs. Grandison, -he had been allotted, to find that his first thought -was of startled surprise—his second of the habitudes -which came to him as by second nature, -and a conviction that he must have witnessed -such presentments in a former state of existence.</p> - -<p class='c001'>All was very splendid, beyond denial. What -was otherwise was æsthetically rare and almost -beyond price. Antique carved furniture, mediæval -royal relics, a sideboard which looked -like an Egyptian sarcophagus, contrasted effectively -with the massiveness of the plate, the -glory of the glass, the triumph of the matchless -Sèvres dinner-service. In perfect keeping was -the quiet assiduity of the attendants, the quality -of the iced wines, the perfection and finish of -the whole entertainment.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Rather a contrast to the tea-table at -Windāhgil!” Harold Stamford said to himself; -“not but what I should have been able to do -things like this if I could have held on to those -Kilbride blocks for another year. Only another -year!” and he sighed involuntarily. “It is -very fine in its way, though I should be sorry -to have to go through this ordeal every evening. -Grandison doesn’t look too happy making conversation -with that deaf old dowager on his -right. He was brighter looking in the old -working-time, when he used to drop in at Din -Din, where we had a glass of whisky before bedtime -with a smoke and a good talk afterwards. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>Bob certainly read more or less then. He -begins to look puffy too; he doesn’t see much -of the library now, I’m afraid, except to snore -in it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Here his fair neighbour, who had finished her -soup and sipped her sherry, began to hint an -assertion of social rights.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t you think dear Josie looks a little -pale and thin, though she is exquisitely dressed -as usual? But I always say no girls can stand -the ceaseless excitement, the wild racketing of a -Sydney season. Can they, now?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“To my eye she looks very nice, pale if you -like; but you don’t expect roses and lilies with -the thermometer at 80° for half the year, except -when it’s at 100°.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, perhaps you’re right; but it isn’t the -climate altogether in her case, I should say. -It’s the fearfully exciting life girls of her <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>monde</em></span> -seem to lead nowadays. It’s that which brings -on the wrinkles. You notice her face when she -turns to the light.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Are women worse than they used to be, do -you think; or is Josie more dissipated than the -rest of her age and sex?” queried Stamford.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I don’t know that, though they do say that -she is the fastest of a very fast set; and between -you and me, there have been some rather queer -stories about her, not that I believe a word of -them. But the girls nowadays do go such awful -lengths; they say and do such things, you don’t -know <em>what</em> to believe.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>“Ah! well, she’s young and happy, I suppose, -and makes the most of her opportunities of -enjoyment. My old friend, Bob Grandison, has -been lucky, and his family seem to have everything -they can possibly want.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Everything, indeed, and more besides. -(Chablis, if you please!) Then I suppose you -knew Mr. Grandison when he was not quite so -well off? They say he got into society rather -suddenly; but I’m afraid it doesn’t do the -young people quite as much good as it might. -There’s the eldest son, Carlo, as they call him—he -used to be Charlie when I first knew them.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Why, what about him? Nothing wrong, is -there? He seems a fine lad.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, nothing wrong yet. Not yet; oh, -no! Only he spends half his time at the club, -playing billiards from morning till night, and -he’s always going about with that horrid gambling -Captain Maelstrom. They do say—but you -won’t let it go further—that he was one of that -party at loo when young Weener lost five -thousand pounds, and such a scandal arose out -of it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Good heavens! You horrify me! A mere -boy like that! It can’t be true; surely not.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I heard it on good authority, I assure you, -and other stories too, which I can’t repeat—really -too shocking to talk about. See how -<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>empresse</em></span> he is with that Mrs. Loreleigh! What -men see in that women I really can’t think.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My old friend had both sense and right -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>feeling once upon a time,” said Stamford. -“He can’t be so weak as to allow all this.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He does all he can, poor old gentleman; -but Mrs. Grandison is so absurdly vain about -Carlo’s good looks, and the fine friends he goes -about with, that she can’t see any danger. -Lord Edgar Wildgrave and that Sir Harry -Falconer who was here last year (you know they -do say that Josie broke her heart about Lord -Edgar, and that makes her so reckless). But I -know his father is very uneasy about him, and -well he may be. I’m afraid Ned bids fair to -follow in his brother’s footsteps. Thanks—I -will take an olive.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What a wretched state of things!” groaned -Mr. Stamford, almost audibly. “I must hope, -for the sake of my friend’s family, that matters -may be exaggerated.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I wish they are, with all my heart,” said the -candid friend. “They always have such -delicious fruit here, haven’t they? I must say -they do things well at Chatsworth House. I -always enjoy a dinner here. I see Mrs. -Grandison making a move. Thanks!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And so Miss Crewitt followed the retreating -file of ladies that, headed by Mrs. Grandison’s -stately form, quitted the dining-room, leaving -Mr. Stamford much disordered with the unpleasant -nature of the ideas which he had perforce -absorbed with his dinner. He could not forgive -his late neighbour for introducing them into his -system.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>“Confounded, venomous, ungrateful cat!” -he said in his righteous wrath. “How she enjoyed -every mouthful of her dinner, pouring out -malice and all uncharitableness the while! -Serves Mrs. Grandison right, all the same. If -she’d picked me out a nice girl, or a good -motherly dame, I should not have heard all -this scandal about her household. But what a -frightful pity it seems! I must talk to Grandison -about it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>At this stage Mr. Stamford was aroused by -his host’s voice. “Why, Harold, old man, where -have you got to? Close up, now the women are -gone. Bring your chair next to Carlo.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He walked up as desired, the other guests -having concentrated themselves in position -nearer the head of the table, and found himself -next to the heir of the house, Mr. Carlo -Grandison. That young gentleman, whom he -had observed during dinner talking with earnestness -to a lady no longer young, but still handsome -and interesting, in spite of Miss Crewitt’s -acidulated denial of the fact, did not trouble -himself to be over agreeable to his father’s -old friend.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He devoted himself, however, with considerable -assiduity to the decanters as they passed, -and drank more wine in half an hour than Mr. -Stamford had ever known Hubert to consume -in a month.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He did talk after a while, but his conversation -was mainly about the last Melbourne Cup, upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>which he admitted that he had wagered heavily, -and “dropped in for,” to use his own expression, -“a beastly facer.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Was not that imprudent?” asked Mr. -Stamford, as he looked sadly at the young man’s -flushed face. “Don’t you think it a pity to lose -more than you can afford?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh! the governor had to stand the racket, -of course,” he said, filling his glass; “and a -dashed row he made about it—very bad form, I -told him—just as if a thousand or two mattered -to him. Do you know what we stood to win?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, but you didn’t win!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I suppose in the bush, Mr. Stamford, you -don’t do much in that way,” answered the young -man with aristocratic hauteur, “but Maelstrom -and I, Sir Harry Falconer and another fellow, -whose name I won’t mention, would have pulled -off forty-five thousand if that infernal First -Robber hadn’t gone wrong the very day of the -race. Think of that! He was poisoned, I -believe. If I had my will I’d hang every -blessed bookmaker in the whole colony. Never -mind, I’ll land them next Melbourne Spring.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“If there were no young gentlemen who -backed the favourite, there would be fewer -bookmakers,” replied Stamford, peaceably. -“But don’t you think it a waste of time -devoting so much of it to horseracing?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What can a fellow do? There’s coursing, -to be sure, and they’re getting up a trotting -match. I make believe to do a little work in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>the governor’s office, you know, but I’m dead -beat to get through the day as it is.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Try a year in the bush, my dear boy. You -could soon learn to manage one of your father’s -stations. It would be a healthy change from -town life.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“By Jove! It <em>would</em> be a change indeed! -Ha, ha! ‘Right you are, says Moses.’ But I -stayed at Banyule one shearing, and I give you -my word I was that sick of it all that I should -have suicided if I had not been let come to -town. The same everlasting grind—sheep, -supers, and saltbush; rides, drives, wire fences, -dams, dampers, and dingoes—day after day. -At night it was worse—not a blessed thing to -amuse yourself with. I used to play draughts -with the book-keeper.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But you could surely read! Books are easy -to get up, and there are always neighbours.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I couldn’t stand reading out there, anyhow; -the books we had were all dry stuff, and the -neighbours were such a deuced slow lot. Things -are not too lively in Sydney, but it’s heaven -compared with the bush. I want the governor -to let me go to Europe. I should fancy Paris -for a year or so. Take another glass of this -Madeira; it’s not an everyday wine. No! -Then I will, as I see the governor’s toddlin’.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>In the drawing-room matters were in a -general way more satisfactory. A lady with a -voice apparently borrowed from the angelic -choir was singing when they entered, and Mr. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>Stamford, passionately fond of music, moved -near the grand piano to listen. The guests -disposed themselves <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>au plaisir</em></span>.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Master Carlo, singling out Mrs. Loreleigh, -devoted himself to her for the rest of the evening, -with perfect indifference to the claims of -the other lady guests.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What a lovely voice Mrs. Thrushton has!” -said his hostess to Stamford, as soon as the -notes of enchantment came to an end.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Lovely indeed!” echoed he; “it is long -since I have heard such a song, if ever—though -my daughter Laura has a voice worth listening -to. But will not Miss Grandison sing?” he said -after a decent interval.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Josie has been well taught, and few girls -sing better when she likes,” said her mother -with a half sigh; “but she is so capricious that -I can’t always get her to perform for us. She -has got into an argument with Count Zamoreski, -that handsome young Pole you see across the -room, and she says she’s not coming away to -amuse a lot of stupid people. Josie is quite a -character, I assure you, and really the girls are -so dreadfully self-willed nowadays, that there is -no doing anything with them. But you must -miss society so much in the bush! Don’t you? -There are very few nice men to be found there, -I have heard.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We are not so badly off as you suppose, -Mrs. Grandison. People even there keep themselves -informed of the world’s doings, and value -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>art and literature. I often think the young -people devote more time to mental culture than -they do in town.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Indeed! I should hardly have supposed so. -They can get masters so easily in town, and -then again the young folks have such chances of -meeting the best strangers—people of rank, for -instance, and so on—that they never can dream -of even <em>seeing</em>, away from town. Mr. Grandison -wanted me to go into the bush when the -children were young; and indeed one of his -stations, Banyule, was a charming place, but I -never would hear of it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A town life fulfilled all your expectations, -I conclude.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, really, I think so; very nearly, that is -to say. Josie has such ease of manner and is so -thoroughly at home with people in every rank -of life that I feel certain she will make her -mark some day.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And your son Carlo?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, I don’t mind telling you, as an old -friend, Mr. Stamford, that Mr. Grandison is -uneasy about him sometimes, says he won’t -settle down to anything, and is—well not really -dissipated, you know, but inclined to be fast. -But I tell him that will wear off as he gets -older. Boys will be boys. Besides, see what -an advantage it is to him to be in the society of -men like Captain Maelstrom, Sir Harry -Falconer, and people of that stamp.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am not so sure of that, but I trust all will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>come right, my dear Mrs. Grandison. It is a -great responsibility that we parents undertake. -There is nothing in life but care and trouble, it -seems to me, in one form or another. And -now, as I hear the carriages coming up, I will -say good night.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Stamford went home to his hotel, much -musing on the events of the evening, nor was -he able to sleep, indeed, during the early portion -of the night, in consequence of the uneasiness -which the unsatisfactory condition of -his friend’s family caused him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Poor Grandison!” he said to himself. -“More than once have I envied him his easy -circumstances. I suppose it is impossible for a -man laden with debt and crushed with poverty -to avoid that sort of thing. But I shall never -do so again. With all my troubles, if I -thought Hubert and Laura were likely to become -like those two young people as a natural -consequence, I would not change places with -him to-morrow. The boy, so early <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>blasé</em></span>, with -evil knowledge of the world, tainted with the -incurable vice of gambling, too fond of wine -already, what has he to look forward to? -What will he be in middle age? And the girl, -selfish and frivolous, a woman of the world, -when hardly out of her teens, scorning her -mother’s wishes, owning no law but her own -pleasure, looking forward but to a marriage of -wealth or rank, if her own undisciplined feelings -stand not in the way! Money is good, at any -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>rate, as far as it softens the hard places of life; -but if I thought that wealth would bring such -a blight upon my household, would so wither -the tender blossoms of hope and faith, would -undermine manly endeavour and girlish graces, -I would spurn it from me to-morrow. I would—--”</p> - -<p class='c001'>With which noble and sincere resolve Mr. -Stamford fell asleep.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Upon awaking next morning, he was almost -disposed to think that the strength of his disapproval -as to the younger members of the -Grandison family might only have been enthusiasm, -artificially heightened by his host’s -extremely good wine. “That were indeed a -breach of hospitality,” he said to himself. -“And after all, it is not, strictly speaking, my -affair. I am grown rusty and precise, it may -be, from living so monotonous a life in the -bush, so far removed from the higher fashionable -existence. Doubtless these things, which -appear to me so dangerous and alarming, are -only the everyday phenomena of a more artificial -society. Let us hope for the best—that -Carlo Grandison may tone down after a few -years, and that Miss Josie’s frivolity may subside -into mere fashionable matronhood.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Mr. Stamford finished his breakfast with an -appetite which proved either his moderation in -the use of the good familiar creature over-night, -or a singularly happy state of the biliary secretions. -He then proceeded in a leisurely way -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>to open his letters. Glancing at the postmark -“Mooramah,” the little country town near -home, and recognising Hubert’s bold, firm -handwriting, he opened it, and read as follows:—</p> - -<p class='c008'>“<span class='sc'>My dear old Dad</span>,—I have no doubt -you are enjoying yourself quietly, but thoroughly, -now that you have cleared off the -Bank of New Guinea and got in with the -Austral Agency Company. Mother says you -are to give yourself all reasonable treats, and -renew your youth if possible, but not to think -you have the Bank of England to draw upon -just yet.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I told her you were to be trusted, and I -have a piece of good news for you, which will -bear a little extravagance on its back. I am -very glad we were able to pay off that bank.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“They had no right to push you as they did. -However, I suppose they can’t always help it. -Now for the news, if some beastly telegram has -not anticipated it. We have had RAIN!</p> - -<p class='c009'>“Yes, rain in large letters! What do you -think of that? Forty-eight hours of steady -rain! Five inches sixty points! Didn’t it -come down!—cats and dogs, floods and waterspouts!</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The drought has broken up. The river -is tearing down a banker. You can see the -grass grow already. All bother about feed -and water put safely away for a year at least. -Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!</p> - -<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>“I have sent most of the sheep out back. -Dams all full, but none carried away, thank -goodness!</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I got the hill paddock fence finished and -the weaners all into it yesterday. Didn’t get -home till midnight.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“The run like a batter pudding, soaked right -down to the bed rock. We shall have more -grass than we can use. Old Saville (Save-all, I -call him!) would sell five thousand young sheep, -mixed sexes. He wants to realise. If Mr. -Barrington Hope, or whatever his name is, -will stand it, they would pay to buy. Wire -me if I can close, but of course I don’t expect -it.</p> - -<p class='c009'>“I think I may safely treat myself to John -Richard Green’s <cite>Making of England</cite> and Motley’s -<cite>Rise of the Dutch Republic</cite>, so please post -them. Everything looking first-rate. Laura -is writing too.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Your loving son,</p> -<p class='c011'><span class='sc'>Hubert Stamford</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>Next came a letter in a neat, characteristic, -legible hand, not angular-feminine, which he -well knew:—</p> - -<p class='c013'>“<span class='sc'>Oh! darling Dad</span>,—We are all gone -straight out of our senses with joy. We have -had such blessed and beauteous rain. The -windows of Heaven have indeed been opened—where -else could such a lovely downpour come -from?</p> - -<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>“All our doubts and fears are cleared away. -Hubert has been working himself to death, poor -boy; off before daylight and never home till -twelve or one in the morning. He says that -we shall have the best season known for years, -and that nothing can possibly hurt the grass for -a whole twelvemonth. Besides, more rain is -sure to come. They always say that though. -Some water came through here and there, but it -was a blessing that Hubert and the old splitter -put the new roof over the kitchen before the -drought broke up. The dear garden looks -lovely, I have been sowing a few flower seeds—so -fresh and beautiful it is already.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I rode to one of the out-stations with -Hubert yesterday, and we got such glorious -ferns coming back. I am sorry to say dear -mother is not over strong. The hot weather, -and the old trouble, ‘no servants,’ have been too -much for her. Do you think you could bring -back a good, willing girl as cook and laundress—that -would shift the hardest part of the work off -our shoulders—and I think Linda and I could -manage the house-work, and be thankful too? -Try your best, that’s a good old dad!</p> - -<p class='c011'>“I have been reading <cite>Middlemarch</cite> strictly in -spare time, and am getting on pretty well with -my German and Italian. If you could bring -up two or three books, and by all means a pretty -song or two, we should have nothing left to -wish for. Now that the rain has come, it seems -like a new world. I intend to do great things -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>in languages next year. How about Mrs. -Carlyle’s letters? From the review we saw -in <cite>The Australasian</cite>, they must be deeply interesting. -We expect you to return quite restored -to your old self. Write longer letters, -and I am always,</p> - -<div class='c014'>“Your loving daughter,</div> -<div class='c015'>“<span class='sc'>Laura Stamford</span>.”</div> - -<p class='c012'>“So far, so good, indeed,” quoth Mr. Stamford -to himself. “The year has turned with -a vengeance. Let me see what the <cite>Herald’s</cite> -telegrams say. Lucky I did not look at the -paper. So Hubert’s letter gives me first news. -Ah! another letter. Handwriting unknown, -formal, with the English postmark, too. No -bad news, I hope. Though I can hardly imagine -any news of importance from the old -country, good or bad, now. Luckily, I am -outside the pale of bad news for a while, thanks -to Barrington Hope and this breaking up of the -drought. What says the <cite>Herald</cite>?</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c016'> - <div>”<span class='sc'>Mooramah.</span></div> - <div class='c000'>“(From our Own Correspondent.)</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>“Drought broken up. Heavy, continuous -rain. Six inches in forty-eight hours. Country -under water. Dams full. A grand season anticipated.</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Quite right for once, ‘Our Own Correspondent,’ -albeit too prone to pronounce the -‘drought broken up’ on insufficient data. But -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>now accurately and carefully observant. I drink -to him in a fresh cup of tea.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And now for the unknown correspondent. -Here we have him.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford carefully and slowly opened his -letter, after examining all outward superscription -and signs. Thus went the unaccustomed -missive:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-l c018'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>”<span class='sc'>Harold Stamford, Esq.</span>,</div> - <div class='line in2'>“Windāhgil Station, Mooramah,</div> - <div class='line in4'>“New South Wales, Australia.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c019'>”<span class='sc'>London</span>, 23 Capel Court,</div> -<div class='c020'>“<em>April 14, 1883</em>.</div> - -<p class='c017'>“<span class='sc'>Sir</span>,—It has become our duty to announce -the fact that, consequent upon the death of your -cousin, Godwin Stamford, Esq., late of Stamford -Park, Berkshire, you are entitled to the sum of -one hundred and seventy-three thousand four -hundred and sixty-nine pounds fourteen shillings -and ninepence (£173,469 14<em>s.</em> 9<em>d.</em>), with interest -from date, which sum now stands to your credit -in the Funds.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You are possibly aware that your cousin’s -only son, Mark Atheling Stamford, would have -inherited the said sum, and other moneys and -property, at the death of his father, had he not -been unfortunately lost in his yacht, the <em>Walrus</em>, -in a white squall in the Mediterranean, a few -days before the date of this letter.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“In his will, the late Mr. Godwin Stamford -named you, as next of kin, to be the legatee of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>this amount, in the case of the deceased Mark -Atheling Stamford dying without issue. We -have communicated with our agent, Mr. Worthington, -of Phillip Street, Sydney, from whom -you will be enabled to learn all necessary particulars. -We shall feel honoured by your -commands as to the disposal or investment of -this said sum, or any part of it. All business -with which you may think fit to entrust our -firm shall have prompt attention.—We have the -honour to be, Sir, your obedient servants,</p> - -<div class='c019'>“<span class='sc'>Wallingford, Richards & Stowe</span>.”</div> - -<p class='c012'>Mr. Stamford read the letter carefully from -end to end, twice, indeed, with an unmoved -countenance. He pushed it away; he walked -up and down the room. Then he went into the -balcony of the hotel and gazed at the people in -the street. He retired to his bed-room after -this, whence he did not emerge for a short -space.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Returning to the table he sat calmly down, -gazing at his letter, and again examining the -signature, the important figures, which also had -the value set forth formally in writing. Yes, -there was no mistake. It was not seven -thousand four hundred and sixty-nine pounds. -Nothing of the kind. One hundred and seventy -thousand pounds and the rest. “One hundred -and seventy thousand!” He repeated the -words over and over again in a calm and collected -voice. Then the tears rushed to his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>eyes, and he laid his head on his hands and -sobbed like a child.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“For what did it all mean? Nothing less -than this. That he was a rich man for life. -That his wife, best-beloved, tender, patient, self-sacrificing -as she had always been since he took -her, a fresh-hearted, beautiful girl, from her -father’s house, where she had never known -aught but the most loving care, the most elaborate -comfort, would henceforth be enabled to -enjoy all the old pleasures, even the luxuries of -life, from which they had all been so long -debarred. They could live in Sydney or Melbourne, -as it pleased them best. They could -even sojourn in London or Paris, and travel on -the continent of Europe.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The girls could have all the ‘advantages,’ -as they are called, of the best teaching, the best -society, change of scene, travel.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Great Heaven! what a vista of endless -bliss seemed opening before him!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>But then, as he sat and thought, another -aspect of the case, dimly, shadowy, of darker -colours and stranger light, seemed to pass before -him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Would the effect of the sudden withdrawal -of all necessity for effort, all reason for self-denial, -be favourable to the development of -these tenderly-cultured, generous but still youthful -natures?</p> - -<p class='c017'>“When the cares of this world—which up to -this point had served but to elevate and ennoble—were -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>dismissed, would ‘the deceitfulness -of riches’ have power to choke the good -seed?</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Would the tares multiply and flourish, -overrunning the corn, and would the uprooting -of them import another trouble—a difficulty -which might be enlarged into a sorrow?</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Would indolence and reckless enjoyment -succeed to the resolute march along the pathway -of duty, to the prayerful trust in that Almighty -Father who granted strength from day to day? -Would the taste for simple pleasures, which now -proved so satisfying, be lost irrevocably, to be -succeeded, perhaps, by a dangerous craving for -excitement, by satiety or indifferentism?</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What guarantee was there for this conservation -of the healthful tone of body and mind -when the mainsprings of all action, restraint, -and self-discipline were in one hour relaxed or -broken?</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Could he bear to behold the gradual degeneration -which might take place, which had -so manifested itself, as he had witnessed, in -natures perhaps not originally inferior to their -own?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Long and anxiously did Harold Stamford -ponder over these thoughts, with nearly as grave -a face, as anxious a brow, as he had worn in his -deepest troubles.</p> - -<p class='c017'>At length he arose with a resolved air. He -left the hotel, and took his way to the office of -Mr. Worthington, whom he knew well, who -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>had been his legal adviser and the depository of -all official confidences for many years past.</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was he who had drawn the deed by which -the slender dowry of his wife, with some -moderate addition of his own, had been settled -upon her. He knew that he could be trusted -implicitly with his present intentions; that the -secret he intended to confide in him this day -would be inviolably preserved.</p> - -<p class='c017'>This, then, was the resolution at which Harold -Stamford had arrived. He would <em>not</em> abruptly -alter the conditions of his family life; he would -gradually and unostentatiously ameliorate the -circumstances of the household. But he would -defer to a future period the information that -riches had succeeded to this dreaded and probable -poverty. He would endeavour to maintain -the standard of “plain living and high thinking,” -in which his family had been reared; he -would preserve it in its integrity, as far as lay in -his power until, with characters fully formed, -tried, and matured, his children would in all probability -be enabled to withstand the allurements -of luxury, the flatteries of a facile society, the -insidious temptations of the world, the flesh, and -the devil.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Intent upon removing such dangers from -their path in life, he felt himself warranted in -using the <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>suppressio veri</em></span> which he meditated. -And he implored the blessing of God upon his -endeavours to that end.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Then, again, the station? It must stand -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>apparently upon its own foundation. What pride -and joy to Hubert’s ardent nature for the next -few years would it be to plot and plan, to labour -and to endure, in order to compass the freedom of -the beloved home from debt! Now that the -rain <em>had</em> come, that the account was in good -standing, he had felt so sanguine of success that -it would be cruel to deprive him of the gratification -he looked forward to—the privilege he so -prized.</p> - -<p class='c017'>And what task would employ every faculty of -mind and body more worthily, more nobly, than -this one to which he had addressed himself! -Hubert’s favourite quotation occurred to him—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c021'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And how can man die better</div> - <div class='line in2'>Than facing fearful odds,</div> - <div class='line'>For the ashes of his fathers,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And the temples of his gods?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'>This he was wont to declaim when his mother, -meeting him as he returned from weary rides, -chilled by winter frosts, burnt black well-nigh -by summer suns, had many a time and oft -expostulated, telling him that he would kill -himself.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The tears came into the father’s eyes as he -thought of these things.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Poor Hubert! poor boy! How he has -worked; how he means to work in the future! -We must manage not to let him overdo things -now. I daresay I shall be able to slacken -the pace a little for him without his suspecting -the real cause.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>As he thought of his son, sitting Centaur-like -on his favourite horse, with his head up, his -throat bare, courage in his eye and manly resolution -in his whole bearing—wild to do anything -that was self-sacrificing, dangerous, laborious, -fully repaid by a smile from his mother, a kiss -from Laura, a nod of approval from himself—he -could not help contrasting him with Carlo -Grandison, the product, as he surmised, of a life -of ease—of a system where self-restraint had -been rendered obsolete.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He thought of Laura’s patient labours, of her -constancy to uncongenial tasks, of her fresh, -unsullied bloom, and sweet, childlike nature.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“God forbid!” he said, “that they should ever -know wealth if such a transformation is likely to -take place in their character. I know what they -are now. It shall be my aim to preserve them -in their present innocence. Let them remain -unspotted from the world. I must invent a -way by which fair development and mental -culture may be furnished. But as to taking -them away from this humble retreat where all -their natural good qualities have so grown and -flourished in the healthful atmosphere of home -life, it were a sin to do it. I have made up my -mind.” And here Mr. Stamford almost frowned -as he walked along and looked as stern as it was -in his nature to do.</p> - -<p class='c017'>On arriving at Mr. Worthington’s chambers, -with the precious document carefully secured -within his pocket book, he found that gentleman -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>engaged. He, however, sent in his card with a -request to be admitted at his leisure upon -business of importance, and received a reply -to the effect that if he could remain for a -quarter of an hour, the principal would be at -liberty.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The time seemed not so long with a tranquil -mind. The days of the torture-chamber were -over.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He employed it in re-considering the points -of his argument, and when the door of Mr. -Worthington’s private room opened, he felt his -position strengthened.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Sorry to detain you,” said the lawyer, “but -it is a rule of mine to take clients as they come, -great and small. Haven’t seen you for some -time, Mr. Stamford. Had rain, I hear, in your -country; that means everything—everything -good. What can I do for you?”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>The eminent solicitor, than whom no man in -his profession held more family confidences, not -to say secrets in trust, here fixed a pair of keen -grey eyes, not unkindly in expression, but -marvellously direct and searching, upon his -visitor.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You have had a communication with reference -to the subject of this letter,” said Mr. -Stamford, placing it before him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Ah! Wallingford, Richards and Stowe—first-class -men in the profession. Now you -mention it, I certainly have, and I congratulate -you heartily upon it. I have heard generally -about your affairs, Mr. Stamford; losses and -crosses, bad seasons, and so on. It has come at -the right time, hasn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It certainly has; but, curiously, I had -managed, with the aid of the grand change of -season, to do without it. Now I have at once an -explanation and an uncommon request to make.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Worthington settled himself in his chair -and took a pinch of snuff. “My dear sir,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>said he, “pray go on. I am in the habit of -hearing uncommon requests and curious explanations -every day of my life.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Perhaps I may surprise even you a little. -In the first place, does any one know of this -rather exceptional legacy which I have received, -or rather to which I am entitled?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Worthington unlocked an escritoire, -opened a drawer labelled “Private,” and took -from it a letter in the same handwriting as the -one before them. “Here is Wallingford’s letter. -It has been seen by no eye but mine. It was -answered by me personally. No other living -soul is aware of it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have reasons, connected with my family -chiefly, for not desiring to permit my accession -to a fortune, for such it is, to be known by -them, or by the public generally, till, at any rate, -a certain number of years has passed. Can this -be done?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Most assuredly, I can receive the money, -which will then be at your disposal. No one -need be a jot the wiser.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That’s exactly what I want you to do for -me. To invest the amount securely, and to let -the interest accumulate for the present. At the -same time, I may, upon notice, be compelled to -draw upon it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That can be easily done. The interest will -be lodged in the Occidental Bank—they have no -directors there, by the way—to be drawn out if -required, by cheque signed by you and me or -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>my partner at my decease—must provide for -everything, you know. If you require the whole, -or any part, you have but to let me know, and -I can send you the firm’s written guarantee that -the money will be at your credit at the bank -referred to, on any given day.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am not likely to require the principal, but -the interest I may draw upon from time to time.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The arrangement can be made precisely as -you desire. When you authorise us on that -behalf, the principal sum can be transmitted to -this colony without delay. You will be able to -secure seven or eight per cent. interest upon -mortgage here without risk; and, as I said -before, to draw, should you require, by giving -reasonable notice. The course you are about to -adopt is unusual; but I presume your reasons to -be adequate. It is not my business to be concerned -with them further than regards their legal -aspect.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You have made my course easy, my dear -sir, and relieved me of some anxiety. I wish -now to give instructions for the addition of a -codicil to my will, which is in your office. That -being done, our business will be over.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>This truly momentous interview was at length -concluded most satisfactorily, as Mr. Stamford -thought. He made his way back to his hotel -in a serious but not uncheerful state of mind, -reserving till the following day a last interview -with Mr. Barrington Hope.</p> - -<p class='c017'>On the morrow, when he betook himself to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>the offices of the Austral Agency Company, he -smiled as he thought with what different feelings -he had made his first entrance. How -agitated had been his mind with hope and fear! -Scarcely daring to believe that he would receive -other than the stereotyped answer to so many -such requests—“Would have been happy under -any other circumstances. Stock and stations -unsalable. The money market in so critical -a condition. The company have decided to -make no further advances for the present. At -another time, probably,” and so forth. He -knew the formula by heart.</p> - -<p class='c017'>How fortunate for him that it had been the -policy of this company, shaped by the alert and -enterprising financial instinct of Barrington -Hope, to entertain his proposal; to make the -sorely needed advance; to float the sinking -argosy; to risk loss and guarantee speculative -transactions for the sake of extending the business -of the company and gaining the confidence -of the great pastoral interest. The bold stroke, -carried out as to so many larger properties than -poor, hardly-pressed Windāhgil, had been successful. -The daring policy, now that the rain had -come, had turned out to be wisely prescient. -Capitalists began to talk of the man who, comparatively -young, had shown such nerve and -decision in the throes of a financial crisis—such -as had just passed, thank God! The oft-quoted -succour might have proceeded chiefly from a -superior quality of head.</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>But Mr. Stamford told himself that to his -dying day he should always credit Barrington -Hope with those attributes of the heart which -were rarely granted to meaner men.</p> - -<p class='c017'>At the present interview there were of course -mutual congratulations.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Had rain, I saw by the telegram, my dear -sir. Heartily glad for your sake—indeed, for -our own. Squatters fully appreciate the benefit -their class receives by such a glorious change in -the seasons. I wonder if they always remember -their hard-worked brethren, the managers of -banks and finance companies, upon whose weary -brains such a weight of responsibility presses. -Well, ‘to each his sufferings, all are men condemned -alike to groan,’ &c.; we must bear our -burdens as we best may. But this is very -frivolous. It must be the rain. Nearly six -inches! Enough to make any one talk nonsense. -What can I do for you at present?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford shortly gave a <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>résumé</em></span> of -Hubert’s letter, and mentioned the store sheep.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Certainly, by all means; if, as I assume, -you will have grass to spare. Buy for cash and -save the discount. Would you like to telegraph? -Excuse me.” He summoned a clerk. -“Mr. Stamford wishes this telegram sent at -once.” He had written: “Buy store sheep at -once—for cash. Draw at sight.—<span class='sc'>Barrington -Hope.</span>—<span class='sc'>Hubert Stamford</span>, Esq., Mooramah.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Is that right? Mr. Bowker, you will see -that message sent through.” The door closed. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>“It is best not to lose time in these matters. -Don’t you think so? Prices are rising every -hour; sheep might be withdrawn.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford was quite of the same opinion, -and was moreover delighted with the promptness -with which the transaction was concluded.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Shall you want more sheep before shearing? -If so, don’t scruple to buy.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, we shall have more grass than we -know what to do with, Hubert says,” commenced -Mr. Stamford, rather aghast at this -magnificent manner of buying all before him; -“but I don’t know whether there is not a risk -of over-stocking.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“None whatever, I should say; take -advantage of a good season when it comes, -that’s the modern stock policy. Some very -successful men, whose names I could tell you, -always practise it. You will consult your son -when you go home and let me know. But, -admitting that you bought up to your carrying -capacity, and sold all but your best sheep directly -after shearing, you might make all safe, as they -say at sea. Our Queensland constituents are -buying largely to stock up new country. As -your district has a good name for wool, you -would have no difficulty in quitting them at a -profit.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That makes a difference, certainly,” said -Mr. Stamford, to whose mind—long a <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>tabula -rasa</em></span> as regards speculation, having been too -deeply occupied in compassing mere existence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>(pecuniarily speaking)—gorgeous enterprises -and profits commenced to present themselves. -“I will talk it over with Hubert, and let you -know.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Certainly; wire rather than write, though; -in matters of importance time is generally most -precious. You are going; good bye! Most -happy that our business intercourse has -progressed so favourably.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You must permit me, my dear Mr. Hope, -to say that I feel most grateful,” said Mr. -Stamford, standing up and holding out his hand, -“deeply grateful personally, for your kindness -and courtesy, outside of any business relation -whatever. No, you must not stop me. I shall -feel it to my dying day, and I trust you will -come and see us at our home—the home you -saved for us, I shall always think—whenever -you visit our part of the country.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The hand-clasp was sincere and hearty; the -interview terminated. The squatter went his -way musingly down narrow, not over-straight -George Street, on either side of which towering -freestone buildings seemed to be uprising daily; -while Barrington Hope addressed himself to a -pile of letters from which he hardly raised his -head until the closing of the office. As for -Mr. Stamford, his day’s work was done. He -mechanically thought over the store sheep -question, but his face suddenly changed as he -remembered in such matters he would be -absolved from all anxiety or doubt in future. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>What rest—rest—all blessed rest of mind and -body, would be his for all time to come!</p> - -<p class='c017'>Are there any disorders, sorrows, misfortunes, -here below which so surely, if gradually, eat -away the heart of man as those which spring -from pecuniary dearth or doubt?</p> - -<p class='c017'>How the days are dimmed! How the nights -are troubled! The glory of the sky, the -beauty of the flower, the breath of morn, the -solemn hush of midnight, Nature’s best gifts -and treasures, how unheeded all, if not despised -are they, when exhibited before the wretched -thrall of debt!</p> - -<p class='c017'>To the galley slave in old classic days what -were the purple waters of the Egean—the -haunting beauty of the temple-crowned promontory? -The choral dances, the flower-wreathed -fanes of the Greek Isles were but -mockeries to the haggard rowers of the trireme -as she swept by, all too close to land. The -grim jest of the old-world humorist was keenly -close—that even the demons of the nethermost -pit disdained to torture the luckless debtor, so -wasted and dried up was every attribute of body -and soul!</p> - -<p class='c017'>And was he indeed the same Harold Stamford -that paced this very street wearily and so -despondingly but one poor week agone? “And -without the timely aid of the Austral Agency -Company,” thought he, “I was even then so -near to safety, to triumph! I feel like the -man who clung so long to a marsh pile the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>long night through, in dread of drowning, and, -dropping from exhaustion, found himself in -four feet of water. And how wretched and -despairing was I, how little hope was there in -the world apparently! But for Linda and the -children, I could have found it in my heart to -make a quick end, in the harbour, of the misery -which was becoming unendurable. It shows -that a man should never despair. There are -always chances. Hundreds, as poor Hubert -said. But shall I ever forget Barrington Hope -and his kindness? No, or may God forget me -in my need. And what a grand fellow he -seems to be!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Having satisfactorily finished his soliloquy, -Mr. Stamford bethought himself that he would -make a parting call upon his friends, the -Grandisons. He was going home in a day or -two now and should be tolerably busy, he knew -by experience, what with commissions and other -matters which he was but too apt to put off till -the last moment.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The ladies were engaged. Mr. Grandison -was, however, at home, and, as it turned out, -not in that cheerful frame of mind which -befitted so rich a man. He had the world’s -goods in profusion, but as Stamford marked his -anxious brow and perturbed countenance, he -saw that something had gone wrong.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, it’s you, is it?” Mr. Grandison said. -“I was afraid it was a young fellow just out -from home—got letters to us—the Honourable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>Mr. Devereux; he’s not a bad chap, but I -don’t feel up to talking to a youngster I never -saw before and won’t see again after next week. -Come into my den and have a yarn, Harold. -I want to talk to you. And, I say, stop and -have a quiet <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>tête-à-tête</em></span> dinner. They’re going -out—Josie and her mother—to one of Ketten’s -recitals, as they call it. I’m in no humour for -musical humbug, I can tell you. I’m worried -to death about that eldest boy of mine, Carlo. -Stay, like a good fellow, and you can advise -me. I’m fairly puzzled.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>This was a matter of charity, and old friendship -besides. Stamford’s heart was touched at -the spectacle of his old comrade troubled and in -distress. He forgot the obtrusive magnificence, -and thought of the long past days when they -rode together beneath burning sky or winter -storm, before one had found the road to -fortune and the other had taken the bye-path -which had only ended in happiness. “All -right, Bob,” he answered. “You shall have all -the help I can offer. I’m sorry you’ve cause to -be uneasy about the boy. We must hope for -the best though. Youthful imprudence is not -so uncommon.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s worse than that,” said Mr. Grandison, -gloomily—with a portentous shake of his head.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Just as dinner was announced, the carriage -behind the grand three hundred guinea browns—perhaps -the best pair in Sydney—rolled up to the -door. Mrs. Grandison and Miss Josie fluttered -down the stairs a few minutes afterwards in the -full glory of evening costume. As host and -guest stood in the hall, the lady of the house -vouchsafed a slight explanation, mingled with -faint regret that the latter was not coming with -them.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You know, Mr. Stamford, this is one of -that dear Ketten’s last recitals. We really -could not afford to miss it—especially as our -friends, the Cranberrys, will be there. Lady C. -sent a private message to Josie that she <em>must</em> -go. I wanted to stop, for we really are -miserable about that wicked boy Carlo; but -Josie said it couldn’t make any difference to -him, and why should we punish ourselves -because he chose to be selfish and extravagant.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford could not wholly assent to -these philosophical propositions. He thought -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>of what Laura’s pleasure in hearing the musical -magnate would have been on the same evening -that Hubert had been declared a defaulter as to -play debts, and was socially, if not legally, under -a cloud.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He simply bowed coldly. Then he saw the -pained maternal expression in Mrs. Grandison’s -face, in spite of her worldliness and frivolity, -and his heart smote him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“My dear Mrs. Grandison,” he said, taking -her hand, “I feel for you most deeply.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Then suddenly came a voice from the -carriage, in which Miss Josie had ensconced -herself. “Mamma, I shall catch cold if we wait -one moment longer. Hadn’t you better postpone -your interesting talk with Mr. Stamford?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Grandison started, and then recovering -herself, shook Mr. Stamford’s hand. “You -will talk it over with Robert, won’t you? You -are old friends, you know. Don’t let him be -too hard on poor Carlo. I’m sure he has a -good heart. Pray come and see us again before -you leave.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The portly form of his hostess moved off at -a swifter rate than her appearance denoted. The -footman banged the carriage door, and the grand -equipage rattled out over the mathematically -accurate curves of the drive. The dinner gong -commenced to resound after a warlike and -sudden fashion, and caused Mr. Stamford to -betake himself hurriedly to the drawing-room. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>There he found Mr. Grandison standing by the -fire-place in a meditative position.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Grandison turned at his friend’s entrance. -“Seen Mrs. Grandison? Has she told you -about it? Well, they’re gone now, and we can -talk it over quietly. Come in to dinner. I’ve -no appetite, God knows! but I want something -to steady my nerves.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The dinner, somewhat restricted for the -occasion, was extremely good, though his host -ate little, confining himself to a cutlet and some -wonderful brown sherry. Not until the dessert -was placed before them and they were alone did -he begin the subject which lay so near to his -heart.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Of course I know, Stamford, that young -fellows like my boy can’t be expected to live in -a town like Sydney upon a screwy allowance—at -any rate not if they are to be seen in good -company. Therefore I’ve always said to Carlo, -‘Let me see you make your mark, and live like -a gentleman. That’s all I ask of you, and you -sha’n’t want for a hundred or two.’ I hadn’t -got it to spend when I was his age—you know -that, Harold; but if I like my youngster to be -a bit different in some things, that’s my own -affair, isn’t it, as long as I am willing to pay for -it? Well that’s all right, you say. Take some -of this claret, it won’t hurt you. It’s my own -importation from Bordeaux. Of course I didn’t -want the boy to slave in an office, nor yet to -live in the bush year after year with nothing but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>station hands to talk to. If Mrs. Grandison -had done what I wanted her to do, while the -children were young, and lived quietly at -Banyule, it might have been different. There -we could have had everything comfortable; -nearly as good as here. It would have been -better for me, and them too, I expect. But she -wouldn’t see it, and that’s why we’ve always -lived in town.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Still,” interposed Stamford, “though you -have been well enough off to afford to live -where you pleased, I can’t imagine why Carlo -should not keep the course and run straight, -even in Sydney, like other young men of his -age.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Grandison sighed and filled his glass. -“Some do, and some don’t, that’s about the -size of it. I don’t know why the lad shouldn’t -have enjoyed himself in reason like young -Norman McAllister, Jack Staunton, Neil -O’Donnell, and others that we know. They’ve -always had lots of money, too; they’ve been -home to the Old Country and knocked about -by themselves, and I never heard that they’ve -got into rows or overrun the constable. How -my boy should have made such a fool of himself -with a father that’s always stuck well to him, I -can’t think. I’m afraid we’ve thought too -much of his swell friends’ names and families, -and not enough of their principles. I’ve told -my wife that before now.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But what has he done?” asked Stamford. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“If it’s a matter of a few thousands, you can -settle that easily enough—particularly now -we’ve had rain,” continued he, introducing the -pleasantry as a slight relief to his friend’s self-reproachful -strain.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, of course, I can do that, thank God! -rain or no rain, though it made a matter of -thirty thousand profit to me on those back -Dillandra blocks—more than that. I shouldn’t -care if the money was all; but this is how it is. -I may as well bring it straight out. It seems -that Carlo and Captain Maelstrom (d—--n him!—I -never liked a bone in his body) and some -others were playing loo last week with a young -fellow whose father had just died and left him a -lot of money. The stakes ran up high—a deal -higher than the club committee would have -allowed if they’d known about it. Well, just -at first they had it all their own way. This -young chap was a long way to the bad—thousands, -they say. Then the luck turned, -and after that they never held a card. He -played a bold game, and the end of it was that -Carlo and the Captain were ten thousand out, -and of course neither of them able to pay up. -The Captain managed to get time, but Carlo, -like a fool, went straight off and said nothing -about it. He was afraid to come to me, it -seems, as we’d had a row last time; so he did -the very worst thing he could have done and -cleared out to Tasmania. We got a letter -yesterday. He’s over there now.” Here Mr. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>Grandison fairly groaned, and looked piteously -in his old friend’s face.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, well! but after all,” said Mr. -Stamford, “of course it’s bad enough, gambling—high -stakes and folly generally; but if you -pay up, things will be much as they were, and -it will be a lesson to him.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I hope it may be, but the worst of it is,” -went on Mr. Grandison, “that the whole thing -came out, and there was a regular <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>exposé</em></span>. The -young fellow, Newlands, made a disturbance -when he wasn’t paid, swore he’d horsewhip -Carlo whenever he met him, and went on tremendously. -Then the committee of the club -took it up and talked of expelling Maelstrom -and him for playing for stakes above the proper -limit, and if the affair’s raked up it’s possible -they will. I paid up in full, of course, as soon -as I could get to know the amount. Newlands -apologised very properly and all that. But the -mischief’s done! Carlo can’t show his face in -Sydney for I don’t know how long. All our -hopes about his turning steady and settling -down are disappointed. It’s a round sum of -money to throw away for nothing, and worse -than nothing. And what to do with the boy I -don’t know.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It certainly <em>is</em> a hard case for his parents,” -said Mr. Stamford, thoughtfully. “I scarcely -know what to advise. A year or two on a -station, or a turn at exploring in the far north -used to be thought a remedy, or, at any rate, to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>hold out reasonable hope of amendment by -change of scene and fresh interests, but—--”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But that wouldn’t suit Carlo. He hates -bush life—can’t live away from excitement—and -I’m afraid, if I sent him away against his -will, he’d take to drinking, or do something -worse still. I’m at my wits’ end. He seems to -have got it into his head that I’m to provide -for him under any circumstances, and the consequence -is he never thinks of doing anything -for himself.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How do you think travel would act upon -him? He has never seen the Old World, ‘the -kingdoms of the earth and the glory of them.’ -Surely that would rouse sufficient enthusiasm to -counteract the meaner pleasures?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Carlo would never get further than Paris if -I trusted him alone. However, I shall have to -try it, I suppose. The long and the short of it -will be that we shall be obliged to move <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>en -famille</em></span>. I can’t send him by himself after what -has happened.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I really do think it is the best thing you -can do. You can afford it easily. Station -property is likely to look up for a few years -now. You have excellent managers, and it will -most likely benefit the other young people. I -don’t see any objection; indeed everything -seems in favour of it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Of course we can do it,” said his friend, -doubtfully; “but I didn’t intend to leave for a -year or two yet—until we could have entered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>Cecil at one of the universities, and, in fact, -made other arrangements. But Carlo is the -master of the situation at present—he must -be, as usual, considered before everything and -everybody. Well, I’m much obliged to you, -Stamford; indeed I feel most grateful; it has -been a great relief to my mind to be able to -talk the matter over with you quietly, and I -really believe this idea of yours of travel abroad -will suit everybody. Mrs. Grandison and Josie -will be wild with delight, I feel sure.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I hope you will all have reason to be satisfied -with the results of the step; and now, as it -is getting late, I will say good night.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Good night, and thank you very much, old -fellow! By the way, this rain has reached -your part of the world, I see; I suppose your -affairs are improving a bit now—look brighter, -eh!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have been enabled to make satisfactory -arrangements lately,” said Stamford, shortly. -“I have placed my account with the Austral -Agency Company and we got on very well.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Ah, indeed. Rising man, that Barrington -Hope. I wish—but it’s no use wishing. Well, -good night again! Nothing like being independent -of the banks; that’s always the safest -line!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Safest indeed,” thought his guest as he -walked down the gravel drive, just in time to -miss the blazing lamps and chariot wheels of -Mrs. Grandison’s equipage, which bore herself -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>and her daughter back from the hall where the -<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><em>maestro</em></span> had been delighting the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>crême de la crême</em></span> -of fashionable musical Sydney. “Safest indeed; -but how is one to manage it with -droughty seasons, and markets practically closed? -I think Master Bob might have asked that -question before. But his own troubles have -been greater than mine, poor fellow—greater, -ah, a thousandfold. What bribe, indeed, would -tempt me to change places with him? -However, we must hope for the best, though I -am afraid Carlo will only substitute Baden Baden -for Bent Street. Miserable boy!”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>The sacrifice at the altar of friendship being -duly performed, Mr. Stamford addressed himself -to the arrangements necessary for a speedy -return to the home which he had quitted under -such depressing conditions. How different were -the sensations with which he set about preparing -for departure from those which he had good -reason to fear would have overshadowed his -return journey! “The sad companion, ghastly -Care,” had retired, indefinitely banished, as far -as human foresight could discover.</p> - -<p class='c017'>All difficulties, all doubt as to ways and -means, had vanished. The kind hand of -Providence had been specially exerted for his -benefit. He hardly recognised in himself the -sanguine individual that had replaced his boding, -desponding entity, tortured by vain regrets and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>undefined dread; hopeless of succour alike from -God and man!</p> - -<p class='c017'>He went about his business with alacrity and -a cheerful enjoyment of life that even surprised -himself. He seemed to have renewed his -youth. Tastes and fancies which had long been -relegated to the realm of the impossible -reappeared like the wild-wood flowers of his -own land after the gracious rainfall of which he -had received tidings. He was now enabled to -indulge them in moderation with a clear -conscience.</p> - -<p class='c017'>And he savoured them with a relish akin to -that of the returned traveller after perils by -land and sea, of the desert-worn pilgrim who -sees again the green fields and rippling brooks -of the fatherland which he had despaired of -again beholding.</p> - -<p class='c017'>What a novel joy was it to him to awake at -midnight—at early dawn—to realise with -returning consciousness that safety, comfort, -honourable independence were to be the portion -of his loved ones henceforward and for ever! -What a relief to turn again to his pillow, and -sink into untroubled slumber with a heart filled -with gratitude—with peace unutterable!</p> - -<p class='c017'>One of his first expeditions in the shopping -line was to the chief book mart, an establishment -where he previously had been wont to -linger but for short intervals, regarding with a -melancholy interest the rows of new, enticing -works, into the pages of which he hardly dared -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>to look. Now he boldly produced a list of -standard authors, magazines, works of travel, -science, autobiography, fiction, what not; commanded -that they should be packed in a suitable -case and forwarded to the railway station to his -address. How he relished the actual writing of -a cheque for the amount! How the thought -of being able to enjoy them with an untroubled -mind, in the peaceful evenings at Windāhgil, -caused his spirits to rise, his heart to expand!</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert’s modest commission was not forgotten, -nor the less-developed literary needs of -Maurice and Ned, while at a neighbouring -establishment he chose a collection of music, -vocal and instrumental, which would keep Laura -and Linda moderately well employed for a -twelvemonth. A new piano the girls must have, -but not yet, not all at once, whispered Prudence. -He must not show his hand too suddenly. All -in good time. And, as a young professional of the -period ran his fingers lightly over the notes of a -lovely Erard semi-grand, Mr. Stamford almost -waltzed out of the shop, to the seductive strains -of “Auf Wiedersehn.” His last and crowning -exploit was to procure, after, perhaps, rather -more personal exertion and loss of dignity than -were expended on the foregoing transactions, the -services of a well-recommended, capable female -domestic, whose scruples at going so far into the -bush he combated by a liberal rate of wages, and -a promise to pay her return fare if she remained -for twelve months in his service. After all this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>Mr. Stamford paid a farewell visit to Mr. Barrington -Hope, with whom he arranged for -shearing supplies, and, finally, at the close of an -exciting day, he found himself in the mail-train -in a state of high contentment, in charity with -all men, and honestly grateful to that Almighty -Ruler who had uplifted him from those dark -depths, at the remembrance of which he still -shuddered.</p> - -<p class='c017'>At a reasonably early hour on the following -day the unpretending architecture of Mooramah -emerged from the forest hills which encompass -that rising township, and there was Hubert sure -enough, with the well-worn buggy and the good -old horses, still high in bone, though, like himself, -much improved in spirits and demeanour.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Why, governor!” quoth that young man, -after an affectionate greeting and the gradual -absorption into the recesses of the buggy of the -tolerably heavy miscellaneous luggage of his -parent, “you’re quite another man. Let me -look at you. Fashionable and distinguished-looking, -I declare! Thought you were a gentleman -from England. Mother and the girls won’t -know you. I suppose it’s the rain, and Mr. -Barrington—what’s his name, Hope or Faith, -isn’t it? He seems to have lots of the latter -requisite, doesn’t he? We ought to have made -his acquaintance years ago. And this is the new -servant, I suppose. Very glad to see you, Mary -Jane. Not Mary Jane? Isabella; well, that -sounds nicer—country looks grand, doesn’t it? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>Old Mooramah’s quite another place. But I -can’t take my eyes off you, governor! You -look ten years younger.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I feel so, my boy, I assure you. Things -have gone well, I needn’t tell you. I found -Mr. Hope a most satisfactory person to do business -with. And of course the rain has crowned -everything.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Satisfactory! I should think he was! Smartest -man we’ve ever worked with. I closed with -old Saville, and bought six thousand Riverina -ewes bred at Broongal. Sent a wire to him, had -his answer, and nailed them before dark. I believe -I could make a half-a-crown profit a head on the -whole lot. That’s something like business, if -you like.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And you’re sure you’ll have grass enough -for them and our own, too! It doesn’t do to -run risks, you know, Hubert!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Grass!” retorted the young man scornfully. -“Wait till you see the old place. Now that the -stock are all off the frontage, the prairie grass -and trefoil are coming up like a hayfield. Why, -we sha’n’t be able to <em>see</em> the sheep in it at shearing -time. Don’t the old horses go differently? -They’re picking up hand over hand, though of -course they’ve not had time to lay on flesh yet. -The sheep are quicker about it, and they look -wonderful. You’d hardly know the dry flocks. -We’re not far from the river, now; it’s just -crossable again. Wait till you come to the outer -gate. But it’s all alike. I feel almost too happy. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>If I hadn’t had a good lot of hardish work just -at first, I think I should have gone off my -head.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Harold Stamford put his hand on the boy’s -shoulder, and looked with loving pride into his -clear eyes and bold, frank brow. “God in His -mercy be thanked for our prosperity, my son!” -he said. “May He keep us in health of body -and mind, and long preserve us to each other. -I feel, also, as if my cup was almost too full. -May He aid us to enjoy and use wisely the -benefits He has conferred on us!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The young man turned and wrung his father’s -hand silently.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Great Heaven!” thought Mr. Stamford to -himself, as he noted the clear bronzed cheek, -the manly, frank impression, the muscular frame -of his first-born, the whole figure instinct with -the splendid health and graceful vigour of early -manhood when developed to maturity amid the -wholesome influences of a country life. “What -a contrast does he present to Carlo Grandison! -Surely I am wise in shielding him from the disturbing -forces, the crowding temptations, with -which wealth besets mankind. I dislike every -aspect of deception, but surely the postponing -the dangerous knowledge, which would relieve -these children from all necessity for self-denial, is -a justifiable exercise of my discretion as the -head of the household. It will, it must, I feel -convinced, be for their ultimate advantage.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>By the time the train of reflection induced by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>this consideration had come to an end, the river -was forded—tolerably high indeed; so much so -as to cause the new domestic some natural misgivings, -but the strong, temperate horses -breasted the swirling current, and landed them -safely, under Hubert’s experienced guidance, -upon the pebbly beach of the farther shore.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“So far, so good,” said the charioteer; “we -couldn’t have done that yesterday, and it’s not -every pair of horses that would fancy all that -rushing and bubbling of the stream. Don’t -you remember Mr. Round nearly making a -mess of it last year at night in this very place, -with the governess and all the children too? -He had a pretty bad quarter of an hour after -he broke his pole. Now look at the grass, -that’s something like, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford had seen such things before in -his pastoral experience. Not for the first time -did he look upon the marvellous transformation -wrought in “dry country” by forty-eight hours’ -rain. But he could not avoid an exclamation of -surprise when he gazed around him. Was this -the same place—the same country even, which -he had driven over so lately to catch the train, -with the self-same pair of horses too?</p> - -<p class='c017'>Then the river trickled in a thin rivulet from -one pond to another in the wide, half-dry bed -of the stream; then the dusty banks were lined -with dead sheep; the black-soiled alluvial flat -was innocent of grass in root or stalk or living -herbage as the trampled dust of a stockyard. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>Now a thick, green carpet of various verdure -covered all the great meadow as far as eye could -see, and brought its bright green border to the -very verge of the sand and shingle of the river -shore.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The half-flood which had resulted from the -rainfall nearer the source had swept away the -carcases of the sheep and cattle and deposited -all saddening souvenirs of the drought amid -the reed beds of the lower Mooramah. All -was spring-like and splendidly luxuriant, though -as yet but in the later autumn season. It was a -new land, a new climate, a region recovered -from the waste.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>In ten minutes Mr. Stamford was deposited -safely at the home which he had quitted with -such gloomy forebodings, such dreadful doubt -and uncertainty. Then he had asked himself, -‘Should he be enabled to call it his own on returning? -Was not Ruin’s knell already sounding -in his ears?’</p> - -<p class='c017'>A few short weeks had elapsed, and how -different was the outlook! When he beheld -again the true and tender wife, the loving -daughters, the joyful children, his heart swelled -nigh to bursting. An unspoken prayer went -up to heaven that he might ever remain worthy -of the unselfish love, the trusting faith which -had been his since first he had acquired a -household of his own. How unworthy are the -best of men of such treasures—the purest, the -richest, which are granted to mortal man!</p> - -<p class='c017'>When his affairs were at the worst, had he -not always known where to receive wise counsel, -tender consolation, heartfelt sympathy? When -a ray of sunshine broke through the cloud-wrack -which environed his fortunes, had not a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>double brilliancy been added to it by those -loving hearts which took their colour so readily -from his every mood? Now all was joy, peace, -magical transformation. The storm-clouds had -passed over, the menacing powers had vanished -like evil dreams. All was hope and sanguine -trust in the future. He was a monarch restored -to his throne, a leader once more in front -of his faithful band, the head of a household -which care and pain, in certain forms, could -never more approach.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“So, father, you have deigned to return to -us!” said Mrs. Stamford, smiling the bright, -loving welcome which had never failed her -husband. “We began to think that the ‘pleasures -and palaces’ were becoming too much for -the ‘home, sweet home’ side of the question. -Didn’t we, Laura? But how wonderfully well -you look, darling! We are all ready to go on -pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Barrington Hope, -as it seems he has wrought all these miracles.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, indeed, dear old dad,” cried Laura; -“I would have put up his image in my bedroom, -and done a little private worship if I had -had the least idea of what he was like. But -you never vouchsafed any sketch of his personal -appearance. You haven’t brought a photo, -have you? That would be something.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Mr. Barrington Hope is a very fine man, -pussy, as you will see probably, one of these -days—a good deal out of the common in every -respect.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>“Young, is he?” queried Linda, who, having -climbed on her father’s knee, was patting -his face and smoothing his hair. “He isn’t a -horrid old man, or married? Good gracious! -we never thought of that, did we? Oh! don’t -say he is bald or grey, or unromantic. Laura -and I would never get over it. We have fixed -on him for our hero, like Guy in the <cite>Heir of -Redclyffe</cite>. Surely some one said he was young!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He is a good deal more like Philip, but -there is nothing of the prig about him, as I fear -there was about that estimable young man,” -replied her father. “But what does his personal -appearance matter, I should like to know?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But it <em>does</em>, it matters everything,” returned -the enthusiastic damsel. “Oh! he can’t be -plain, surely not—after all he has done for us. -You mustn’t knock down the romance we have -all been building up.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He is a very fine man, a few years older -than Hubert, that is all. I can’t give any inventory -of his features, but he is tall and distinguished -looking. Isn’t that enough?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! splendid!” Here Linda clapped her -hands in childish glee. “Fate is too kind! Our -preserver is all that we could wish. Nothing -was wanting but that. We are the happiest -family in New South Wales—in the world.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Amen!” said Mr. Stamford. “Now you -may unlock my portmanteau and turn out a -few presents I have brought my little girls. I -shall be ready for lunch when it comes in, I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>may venture to remark. The bush air is still -keen, I perceive.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>In accordance with his well-studied programme, -Mr. Stamford informed his family, in -general terms, that the arrangements he had -made with Mr. Barrington Hope were of a -satisfactory description. That gentleman had -behaved most liberally and courteously in all -respects. The rain having so fortunately arrived -on the top of all this, had enabled him -even to improve on his first terms, which were -nearly all that could be wished. They would -therefore be warranted in allowing themselves a -few indulgences such as, had the season continued -dry, could not have been so much as -thought of.</p> - -<p class='c017'>After lunch, or rather dinner, the mid-day -meal being of that unfashionable description, -Mr. Stamford and Hubert took a long drive -round the run. The appearance of the pastures, -as also of the sheep they encountered, was such -as to draw forth exclamations of surprise and -delight from their possessor.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I never remember such a season since the -year I bought the run,” he remarked to his son. -“You were quite a little fellow then, and Laura -hardly able to walk. It puts me quite in mind -of old times—of the happy days which I -thought had fled for ever.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, please goodness, governor, we’ll -knock something out of the old place this year -that will make up for past losses. Sheep are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>rising fast, and, as we can’t help having a fine -lambing and a good clip, you’ll see what we’ll -rake in. We must put up a new washpen, -though, and enlarge the shed a bit. It won’t -cost much, as I’ve put a first-rate man on. He’s -a Swede, been a ship’s carpenter, and the -quickest worker, when he understands what -you want done, that I ever saw. Not one of -your cabinet-making humbugs who are all day -morticing a gate-head. I’ll draw in all the -round stuff, and you’ll see how soon we’ll -knock it up.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“All right, my boy; any improvements in -reason, only we mustn’t spend all our money -before we make it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Trust me for that, dad; you won’t find me -spending a penny that can be saved. We shall -want no extra hands till shearing time. All the -paddocks are right and tight, so the sheep will -shepherd themselves, and do all the better, too. -How jolly it is to have no bother about water, -isn’t it? And what a bit of luck we had that -dam in the hill paddock finished just before the -rain came.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Nothing like doing things at the right -time, Hubert,” replied Mr. Stamford, with an -air of oracular wisdom. “You had half a mind -to leave that same dam till next year.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, I must confess I hadn’t much heart to -go shovelling and picking that gravelly clay—hard -as iron—with the weather so hot too, and -looking as if rain was never coming again. But -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>you were right to have it done, and now we -have the benefit of it. Got a pretty fair -paddock of oats in too. It’s coming up -splendidly.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How did you manage that without a -team?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Hired a carrier’s for a week or two. He -was short of cash, and wanted to spell his -bullocks; besides we ripped over the ploughing -in no time. Then I made a brush harrow and -finished it with the station horses. The main -thing was to get in the seed the first break of -dry weather, and now we shall have a stack -that will last us two years at least.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well done, my boy; dry seasons will come -again some day; we must prepare for them, -though everything looks so bright, or rather so -delightfully cloudy, just now. We shall have -to invent a fresh set of proverbs to suit Australia, -shall we not, instead of using our old-fashioned -English ones?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, indeed. Can anything be more ludicrous -than ‘Save up for a rainy day?’ ‘Look ahead -in case of a dry season,’ should be our motto. -This carrier was rather a smart chap, and understood -similes. ‘Will that bullock go steady on -the near side?’ I asked him the other day. -‘Oh! he’s right,’ he said; ‘right as rain!’ -That was something like, wasn’t it? By the -bye, dad, you didn’t forget those books of mine, -did you?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No, my son! I bought a few more in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>addition. In fact, there’s a box of books -coming up by the train.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“A box of books! Hurrah! What times -we shall have, when the evenings get longer. -But, I say, dad! isn’t that rather extravagant? -You’ll have the mater on to you if you begin -to buy books by the box.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They will have to last us some time, -Hubert; you will find a good deal of stiff -reading among them. But if things go well -generally, I won’t stint you in books. We -must charge them to the rain account this -time.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I suppose we can save out of something -else, but I really have found it hard, the last year -or two, to do without a new book now and -then. It’s so tantalising to see the names and -read the reviews when you’re not able to get -them. But of course it couldn’t be helped -when things looked so bad.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have a notion, Hubert, that things will -never look so bad again. However, we must -not be led away by temporary good fortune. Perseverance -is, after all, the great secret of success. -Without that mere cleverness is misleading, and -even mischievous.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was so far fortunate for Mr. Stamford, and -it certainly made his allotted task the easier, that -he had always been somewhat reticent as to -business details.</p> - -<p class='c017'>They were subjects concerning which he disliked -conversation extremely, so that although -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>he confided in his wife and family as to every -change in their pecuniary position, he was wont -to ignore special explanation, much more the -repetition of detail.</p> - -<p class='c017'>When he announced therefore in general -terms, from time to time, to his family that -things were going well, and that Mr. Barrington -Hope’s financial plan, coupled with that extraordinary -advance in the value of pastoral property -occasioned by the rain, enabled him to raise the -standard of their house-keeping, they were satisfied, -and did not press for further information.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Now commenced for Harold Stamford the -ideal country life towards which he had always -aspired, but from which, latterly, he had been -further removed than ever. He enjoyed the -advantages of the dweller away from cities without -the drawbacks which so often tend to render -that idyllic life monotonous and depressing.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He had daily outdoor exercise in sufficient -quantity to produce the wholesome half-tired -feeling so necessary to repose.</p> - -<p class='c017'>At the same time, he was entirely freed from -dominant and engrossing dread, a state of mind -which had for years past coloured so large a -portion of his waking thoughts. How hard it had -been to fall asleep with endless plans coursing -through his tired brain, having for their central -idea the admitted fact of bankruptcy. How were -they to act? What was there to support the -family while he sought for employment? Employment, -too! To what occupation could he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>betake himself, now that middle age was reached, -and much of the vigour and activity of manhood -departed? He had acquired “experience.” -There was a grim irony in the expression—of -what use would it be to him without capital? -A managership of the station of another? True -that might be possibly attained after weeks and -months of effort, or years, as the case might be.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He was familiar with the appearance of -saddened men who haunted the offices of stock-agents -and merchants—the waiting-rooms of -bankers, the steps of clubs whence their more -prosperous comrades walked forth redolent of -solvency. He had noticed such men growing -shabbier, more hopeless of aspect as the months -rolled on. He had heard them alluded to with -contemptuous pity as “Poor old So-and-so! Not -up to much now, younger and smarter men to -be had,” &c. He had wondered whether such -might be his fate, whether with his fall he should -drag down those beloved ones, who, whatever -might be the trials they had undergone together, -had always enjoyed the fullest personal freedom -and independence.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Such dreary reflections had been his companions -in the past—daily, hourly, as well under -the light of the sun as in the night watches, -when silence lends to every reproach of conscience, -every signal of danger, a treble force and -distinctness.</p> - -<p class='c017'>In those terrible years of doubt and dread, -of ruin and despair, what tragedies had been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>enacted before his eyes, among his friends and -comrades, dwellers in the same region, dependent -upon the same seasons, betrayed by the same -natural causes! But the other men had not, -like him, been shielded by the soft encircling -influence of a happy home. A logical mind, a -sanguine spirit, combined with a philosophical -habit, had perhaps proved his safeguard. However -that might be, and Harold Stamford was -the last man to boast to himself or to others, his -bark had battled with the angry waters while -others had become dismal wrecks, or had foundered -suddenly and irrevocably.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Despair had written its tale in the chronicles -of the district, in reckless deep drinking, in -suicide, in brain-ruin.</p> - -<p class='c017'>All these things had he seen and known of. -From these and other evils, not less deadly, but -of slower effect, had he been preserved.</p> - -<p class='c017'>When he looked around and saw himself on -a pinnacle of prosperity, safe in the possession -of all that he held most dear—the lands he had -so loved—the life of labour and of leisure so -happily apportioned, which he had so fully -appreciated—the assured position of respect and -consideration, which it is not in mortal man -wholly to undervalue, he could with difficulty -restrain his feelings. His heart swelled with -thankfulness to that Supreme Ruler who had so -mercifully ordered all matters concerning him -and his, and again he vowed so to shape his -future life that he might be held in some degree -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>worthy of the blessings which had been showered -upon him all unworthy.</p> - -<p class='c017'>This adjustment of ways and means he found -nearly as difficult in its way as the former trial. -He often smiled to himself as he found what an -amount of conscientious reluctance to accept the -unwonted plenty he was compelled to combat. -Did he effect a surprise of a few rare plants for -his flower-loving wife, she would calculate the -railway charges, and ask gravely if he was sure -he could afford it. Did he order a new riding-habit -for Laura, a hat or a summer dress for -Linda, they were sure they could make the old -ones do for another season. It was interesting -to watch the conflict between the natural, girlish -eagerness for the new and desirable and the -inner voice which had so long cried “refrain, -refrain!” in that sorely tried household.</p> - -<p class='c017'>However, in spite of their virtuous resistance, -by the exercise of a little diplomacy, Harold -Stamford had his way. The garden was dug -over, the trees were pruned, the parterre refilled -with choice varieties of the old loved flowers -that the drought had slain. Even a bush-house -and a fernery were managed—put up indeed by -the man who had been temporarily retained as -gardener, and whom Mrs. Stamford, deeply as -she appreciated the enjoyment of once more -beholding trim alleys and well-tended beds, -could not help regarding in the light of a -superfluity.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Then there was the American buggy, a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>wonderful vehicle, in which so many journeys -had been made over roads that were rough or -smooth, ways that were short or long, as need -was, wherein all the family had been closely -packed in the days of their childhood, still -strong and serviceable, but woefully deficient in -paint and varnish. This family friend, and a -friend in need had it been, found its way to the -coachmaker’s, whence it issued resplendent, -nearly as distinguished in appearance, Mrs. -Stamford conceded, as when, in the earlier days -of their wedded life, they had been secretly -proud of their handsome carriage and well-matched, -fast-trotting pair.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It quite brought back,” she averred, “the -old days of love in a cottage, with all their -precious memories.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Gradually, and unobtrusively, was the master -of the establishment enabled to compass these -and other desirable repairs and refittings. All -things that had become shabby were dismissed -or replaced after the same piecemeal manner. -As time wore on, the process ceased to alarm his -wife or children, more especially as, aided by -the bounteous season and Hubert’s ceaseless -energy, the general prosperity of the station was -marked and gratifying.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The increase of the stock was unexampled. -The anxious, toilsome period of shearing was -passed successfully.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The new washpen answered beyond the most -sanguine anticipation. The clip was heavy, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>“got up” so as almost to resemble raw silk—a -pardonable exaggeration—so free from dust and -all contamination had sleepless vigilance and -care on Hubert’s part “turned it out.” The -crop was as “high as the fence,” Maurice -averred, and the haystack, consequently, a -colossal and imposing pile of fragrant fodder. -The spring was sufficiently showery to lay the -dust and keep the matted grass green at the -roots. Water was abundant, both “out back” -as well as on the frontage. “All went merry as -a marriage bell,” and when the last high-piled -waggon-load had moved slowly away, on which -was imprinted “Windāhgil, First Combing, -348,” with other suggestive and satisfactory -legends, Mr. Stamford put his arm round his -wife’s waist, and remarked, “My dear, I think a -trip to Sydney would do you and the girls so -much good. As I am compelled to see Mr. -Hope on business, we may as well all go -together.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>The thrill of pleasure with which this proposal -was received showed itself in the flushing -cheeks and brightened eyes of Laura and her -sister—while upon Mrs. Stamford’s features an -almost pathetic expression appeared, as of a -revelation of joy sudden and unhoped-for. -“You are so kind, Harold; but, oh! are you -prudent? Think of the expense—new dresses, -new everything, indeed! Why it seems an age -since I saw Sydney!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Think of the clip, Mrs. Stamford,” retorted -her husband. “Think of the lambs, think of -the fat sheep ready for market. Your journey -to town will be the merest trifle of expenditure -compared to what we can lawfully and reasonably -afford. I speak in sober earnest. Besides, -the Intercolonial Exhibition is open. The girls -may never have such another chance. Hubert -must stay at home for fear of bush fires. He -shall have his holiday when we return. So, -girls, the great Windāhgil migration is settled.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The departure for the metropolis of a family -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>that has long dwelt in the “bush,” or veritable -far country division of Australian life, is an event -of no ordinary magnitude.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Not that the conditions of their rural life are -so widely different from those in England. -There is the country town within reasonable -distance, to which visits are by no means infrequent. -There reside the clergymen, lawyers, -doctors, bankers, teachers, and tradespeople, the -chief component parts of rural society—as in -England. There are also various retired non-combatants, -decayed gentry and others, the poor -and proud section—as in Europe. The squirearchy -is represented by large-acred, wealthy personages, -who have either acquired or inherited -estates, exceeding ten- or twenty-fold in value -those of average proprietors—as in Europe. -These great people are frequently absent, but -contribute fairly by a higher scale of expenditure, -often comprising picture-galleries, and -valuable collections of <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>objets d’art</em></span>, generally to -the mental advancement of the neighbourhood. -It is not to be supposed, either, that they are -for the most part uneducated or unrefined.</p> - -<p class='c017'>It follows, therefore, that even when deprived -of access to metropolitan luxuries, the families -of rural colonists are not wholly without intellectual -privileges, invariable as has been the -custom of the British novelist to depict them -as living a rude, unpolished, and wholly unlettered -life.</p> - -<p class='c017'>In ordinary seasons it is the custom for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>squatters of a certain rank to visit the sea coast -with their families once a year, if not oftener. -The pleasures of city life are then moderately -partaken of, fresh ideas are acquired, old tastes -are indulged; friendships are contracted, repaired, -or revived. Mental and physical benefits -unspecified are acquired, and after a few weeks’ -absence the country family returns, much contented -with their experiences, but perfectly resigned -to await the changing year’s recurrence ere -such another momentous journeying takes place.</p> - -<p class='c017'>But when, as at Windāhgil, a succession of -untoward seasons brings the family ark well-nigh -to wreck and ruin, it is obvious that no -such holiday-making can be thought of. “Certainly -not this year, perhaps not next year,” says -Paterfamilias, sorrowfully, but firmly. Then -doubtless all the reserves are called up; steady, -instructive reading must take the place of travel, -old acquaintances whose minds, so to speak, have -been read through and through, and dog’s-eared -besides, must perforce be endured through lack -of charmingly-new fresh romantically-respectful -strangers. The old dresses are turned and returned, -freshly trimmed, and their terms of -service lengthened by every economical device, -pathetic in the patience and true homely virtue -displayed. But though all these substitutes -and makeshifts are availed of, the time <em>does</em> pass -a little wearily and monotonously.</p> - -<p class='c017'>But now the “route was given,” the delightful -signal had sounded. The sudden change of ideas -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>necessitated by the announcement of Mr. Stamford -was at first bewildering to his wife, and -nearly in an equal degree to his daughters.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Calculation and arrangement were required; -much forecasting as to where they were to -go first, when they could possibly be ready to -start, maternal doubts as to what poor Hubert -would do in their absence, as the maids would -necessarily return to their friends. These -weighty considerations absorbed so much time -and thought that it was generally agreed to be a -species of miracle by which the family found themselves -safely packed in the waggonette one -memorable Monday on the way to Mooarmah -railway station, the luggage having been sent on -in the early morning.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Poor dear Hubert, it seems so selfish to -leave him at home by himself,” said Laura; -“I think one of us ought to have stayed to -keep house for him.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s not too late now,” said Linda. “Which -is it to be? Shall we toss up? I’m quite ready, -if I lose.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No! I will stay,” said Laura. “I’m the -eldest.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I think I will stop after all,” said Mrs. -Stamford. “You two girls are due for a little -enjoyment, and it does not matter so much -about me.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You will do nothing of the sort,” said Mr. -Stamford, with rather more emphasis than usual. -“Your mother wants a change as much as any -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>of us. It’s very good of you girls to be ready -to remain, and it pleases me, my dears. But -Hubert is man enough to look after himself, as -well as the station, for a month or two. When -our holiday is up, his will begin.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“As if I would have let anybody stop,” said -Hubert, “let alone the dear mater; bless her -old heart! And how am I going to do -when I go to the ‘Never-Never’ country, do -you suppose—and I must have a turn there -some day—if you all coddle me up so?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I hope you never will go to that dreadful -new country,” said Mrs. Stamford, half-tearfully. -“Didn’t you read that shocking account of the -poor fellow who died of thirst by the telegraph -line the other day, besides that nice young -Belford who was killed by the blacks?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Accidents will happen,” said Hubert. “The -British Empire wouldn’t be what it is, if every -mother kept her boy at home so that she could -see him, while she knitted his warm socks. -Windāhgil is paying fairly now, but there’s no -fortune to be made here, is there, governor?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I didn’t know that you were growing -discontented with your lot, my boy,” said the -father, looking admiringly at his first-born; -“but there’s time enough to think about all -that. I’ll see when we are all settled at home -again. There goes the bell; we must take our -places. God bless you, my boy!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The following morning found the Stamford -family comfortably deposited in one of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>hotels which in Sydney combine proximity to -the sea with perfect accessibility from all city -centres. Bath and breakfast had removed all -traces of fatigue or travelling discomfort. Laura, -with her sister, was standing at a window which -overlooked the sea, wild with delight at the -unaccustomed glory of the ocean.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! what a lovely, lovely sight!” cried -Linda. “Look at that glorious bay, with those -white-winged boats flying across it like sea-gulls—it’s -an old simile, I know, but it always -sounds nice. Look at the rocks and promontories, -beaches and islands! And there, a great -ocean liner is moving majestically along, as if -she was going to steam up to the verandah. -Wouldn’t it be nice if she did! I wonder what -the people would be like? Oh! I shall expire -with joy and wonder if I stay here much -longer.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Then put on your bonnet, and come to -George Street with me,” said Mrs. Stamford. -“I want to do a little quiet shopping before -lunch. Laura can stay with her father. He is -going to take her to see the Grandisons.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! how nice; I haven’t seen a real shop,” -said Linda, “like Palmer’s and David Bowen’s, -you know, since I was a little girl. That will tone -the excitement down a little, or give it a new -direction. Oh, I <em>do</em> feel so happy! Do you think -it will last, mother? It can’t be any better in -England—or Fairyland. The world does not -offer anything superior to my present feeling of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>perfect—yes, perfect happiness. Don’t let us go -to the opera for a week yet, till I have had time -to subside. I feel like a glass of champagne; I -should effervesce over. La! la, la, la! la, la, la! -la, la!” And here the excited girl waltzed -into her bed-room to the tune of “The -Venetia.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>When Mrs. Stamford and her youngest -daughter departed on their shopping expedition, -the latter declaring that she felt the greatest -difficulty in restraining herself from bursting -into song from pure gladsomeness of heart, her -father betook himself in a cab with Laura to -Mr. Grandison’s house, where he proposed to -leave her with her cousin Josie till his return in -the evening. Laura was little less inwardly -delighted with her general surroundings than -Linda, but not being so highly demonstrative, -she forbore to testify her pleasure by bodily -movement. Yet was her heart filled with innocent -joy and honest admiration as she surveyed -the unwonted scene.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As their carriage wound slowly up one of -the steep ascents by which, on leaving the city -proper, the more fashionable suburbs are -reached, her dark eyes sparkled and her fair -cheek glowed while she pointed out the fresh -combination of sea and shore.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, father!” she said, “when you look on -this, does it not seem strange that any one -should choose to live away from the sea? I -should spend half my time on the beach! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>What changeful beauty! What new wonders -arise, even from this tiny outlook! Nothing can -be more delicious than this harbour, with gardens -and lawns down to the very ends of the promontories. -The dear little bays too, like fairy -pictures, with smooth shores, and a big rock -with an archway here and there. And oh! the -Heads! Grand and majestic, are they not?—frowning -above the restless deep like eternal -ocean portals. I can see billows, I declare. How -vast and awe-striking! I am really thankful -we haven’t been to Sydney all these bad seasons. -A day like this is worth a year of common -life.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That’s an extravagant price to pay for a -day’s pleasure, pussy,” said her father fondly, as -he watched the fire of enthusiasm glow in the -girl’s bright eyes, which seemed to dilate and -sparkle at intervals as if the glory of the grand -vision had been transfused into her very blood. -“You will count your years, as other people -count their money, much more carefully as you -grow older. But I trust, pet, that you will -have long years of happiness before you, and -that this is not the only one of earth’s precious -things that you will enjoy.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a divine pleasure travel must be!” -said she, gazing steadfastly before her, as if -looking out on a new world of wonder and -enchantment. “Think of seeing, with one’s -own very eyes, the cities and battle-fields of the -earth, the shrines of the dead, immortal past! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>Oh! to see Rome and Venice, Athens and the -Greek Isles, even dear old England with Saxon -ruins and Norman castles. I wonder it does not -kill people.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Happiness is rarely fatal, though the sensation -of sudden joy is often overpowering,” remarked -Mr. Stamford with a quiet smile, as he -recalled his own recent experience. “But I -hope you and Linda will qualify yourselves by -study for an intelligent appreciation of the -marvels of the Old World. That is,”—he added—“in -the event of your being fortunate -enough to get there. ‘We colonists have a great -deal to learn in art and literature,’ as Lord -Kimberley was pleased to say the other day. -We must show that we are not altogether without -a glimmering of taste and attainment.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That is the fixed British idea about all -colonists,” said Laura with indignation. “I -suppose Lord Kimberley thinks we do nothing -but chop down trees and gallop about all day -long. Well, one mustn’t boast, but we have -been getting on with our French and Italian -lately, and Linda’s sketches show something -more than amateur work, I think.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>When they drew up at Chatsworth, and the -cabman was opening the gold and bronze-coloured -iron gates, Laura’s ecstasies broke out -anew.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! father, do look; did you ever see -such a beautiful place? Look at the gravel, -look at the flowers, look at the sea which makes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>a background for the whole picture! Look at -that purple mass of <em>Bougainvillea</em> covering all -one side of the house. Why the lawn is like a -big billiard table! It is a morsel of Fairyland. -How happy they must be in such a lovely home!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Humph!” said Mr. Stamford, “perhaps -the less we say about that the better. The -people that live in the best houses do not always -lead the pleasantest lives. But it certainly is a -show place.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was truly difficult to overpraise the Chatsworth -house and grounds. Nature had been -bountiful, and every beauty was heightened, -every trifling defect corrected by art.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The gravel of which the drive was composed -was in itself a study—its dark red colour, its -perfect condition, daily raked and rolled as it -was to the smoothness of a board. Rare shrubs -and massed flowers bordered the accurately -defined tiled edges. The bright blue blossoms -of the <em>Jacaranda</em>, the scarlet stars of the -<em>Hibiscus</em>, the broad purple and green leaves of -the <em>Coleus</em>, the waving, restless spires of the pine, -the rustling, delicate banana fronds—all these -and a host of tropical plants which the mild -Sydney winter suffers to flourish in the open -air, were here. Fountains, tennis-grounds, and -shaded walks, all were to be found in the tiny -demesne, every yard of which had been measured -and calculated so as to produce the largest -amount of effect and convenience.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The hot-house and green-houses were under -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>the care of an autocratic Scotch gardener, who -treated Mr. Grandison’s suggestions with silent -contempt, and obeyed or defied Mrs. Grandison’s -orders as to fruit or flowers entirely as it seemed -good to him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Grandison was at home. The footman -admitted so much, as he asked the country cousins -into a morning room—a most grand apartment -to their eyes; nevertheless, Mrs. Grandison’s -countenance—she was there alone—wore a -clouded and dissatisfied expression. She relaxed -considerably, though with an effort, as her -visitors were announced, and came forward to -greet them warmly enough.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“So glad to see you, Mr. Stamford. It was -nice of you to bring Laura. Why you look as -fresh as a rose, child! How do you manage -to have such a complexion in a hot district? I -tell Josie she is getting as pale as a ghost, and -yellow too. The fact is, she goes out too much, -and this Sydney climate is enough to age any -one. She hasn’t been down to breakfast yet—naughty -girl—but she was at the Moreton’s -ball last night. Mrs. Watchtower took her, -and she didn’t get home till past four o’clock.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I suppose Grandison’s in town,” said Mr. -Stamford.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! yes; he goes in regularly every day, -though I often tell him I don’t know what -he has to do. He lunches at his club; you’ll -find him there at one o’clock. He says it’s dull -enough there, but nothing to what it would be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>if he stopped at home. Not very complimentary, -is it? But men are all alike; they like -to get away from their wives and families.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’ve brought mine with me, you see, this -time; so I don’t fall under your disapproval.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! I do think you’re pretty good, as men -go, though there’s no knowing. But, Laura, -you’d better go up to Josie’s room, if you want -to have a talk, or else you may have to wait. -Now, Mr. Stamford, when will you all come -and dine? To-day you’ll be tired—to-morrow -or next day, which shall it be—and we’ll have -somebody to make it a little lively for the -girls?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Thank you. I think the day after to-morrow, -if it is equally convenient,” said Stamford. “And -now I must go, as I have some business to attend -to. I will leave Laura, with your permission, and -call for her as I return in the afternoon.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! yes, by all means. Josie will enjoy a -long talk with her. What a fine girl she has -grown, and so handsome too! She wants dressing -a bit. But how does she manage to get all -that fine bloom in the bush? I thought Windāhgil -was a hot place, yet Laura looks as fresh -as a milkmaid.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“She is a good girl, and has had very little -dissipation. We lead very simple lives in the -bush, you know. My daughters are very unsophisticated -as yet.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That’s all very well, but being simple -doesn’t give beauty or style, and Laura seems -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>to have a very fair share of both. You let her -come to the Assembly Ball next week that all -the girls are talking about, and see what a -sensation she’ll make.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If there’s a ball while we are down I should -not think of denying the girls a legitimate -pleasure, though Linda is rather young yet; -but I think you flatter Laura.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not a bit. It’s her fresh, natural manner -that will strike everybody, and the way all her -face seems to speak without words. Her eyes -are perfectly wonderful. Why didn’t you tell -us she was such a beauty, and had a charming -manner?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“To my mind, it’s rather a disadvantage -than otherwise—the beauty—not the manner, -of course,” said Mr. Stamford philosophically. -“I beg you won’t inform her of the fact, -though I really don’t think she’d believe you, -my dear Mrs. Grandison. But I must go now, -so good-bye for the present.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It is nearly lunch time now,” said Mrs. -Grandison; “you may as well stay, and go to -town afterwards.” But Mr. Stamford pleaded -“urgent private affairs,” and notwithstanding -the temptress—who began to look forward -to a lonely meal, with the two girls chatting -in the bed-room, and was fain to fall back -on even a middle-aged squatter—he sought -his cab.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford looked at his watch; it wanted -more than half an hour to one o’clock. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>bade his cabman drive briskly, and was landed -at the palatial offices of the Austral Agency -Company in reasonable time. He dashed into -Barrington Hope’s sanctuary with something -like boyish enthusiasm. That gentleman raised -his head from a pile of accounts, and to Mr. -Stamford’s eyes looked even more careworn and -fagged than at his last visit.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How are you, Mr. Stamford?” he said, -with a sudden brightening up of the weary -features. “But I needn’t ask. You’re a -different man from what you were when our -acquaintance commenced. And no wonder. -Talk about physicians! Rain is the king of -them all. Tell me a healer, a preserver like -him! What a grand season you have had, to be -sure—the precursor of many others, I hope. -The Windāhgil wool brought a high price, -didn’t it? Splendidly got up; every one said -so. Bought for the French market. It made a -character for the brand, if one was wanted. But -all this is gossip. You wanted to say something -on business.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not now,” said Mr. Stamford; “‘sufficient -for the day,’ and so on. We only reached -Sydney this morning. But I have a piece of -very particular business. I want you to come -down and dine with us, <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>en famille</em></span>, at Batty’s -this evening. Brought my wife and daughters -down. They’re anxious to make your acquaintance.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Delighted, I’m sure. I hope the ladies will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>find Sydney amusing. There’s nothing going -on particularly, except a Bachelors’ Ball next -week, of which I happen to be a steward. Perhaps -you will allow me to send you invitations.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I can answer for their being accepted,” said -Mr. Stamford, “as far as my daughters are concerned. -Their parents are rather old to do -more than look on. But I will promise to do -that energetically. And now I will not bother -you longer. You have a stiff bit of work before -you there. Don’t knock yourself up, that’s all. -There’s such a thing as overdoing these confounded -figure columns, and when a cogwheel -goes, Nature’s workshop provides no duplicate.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I understand you,” said Hope, pressing his -hand with a quick gesture to his forehead. “I -<em>have</em> felt rather run down lately. The business -has been increasing at a tremendous rate, too. -I must take a holiday before long, though I don’t -quite see my way.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Come and see us at Windāhgil,” said Mr. -Stamford warmly. “The fresh bush air and a -gallop on horseback will set you right again. -That’s all you want. We must talk about it. -In the meantime, adieu.” And Mr. Stamford -vanished.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He reached his hotel in time for lunch, where -he found Mrs. Stamford and Linda, who had -returned from their expedition into the heart of -the kingdom of finery.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Linda declared that she had never comprehended -the subject before—never was aware -<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>that she knew nothing, so to speak, of this all-engrossing -subject, so important in all its details -to womanhood. “I can quite imagine people -with lots of money going to any lengths in the -way of dress,” she said. “The variety is so -charming, and the milliners are so persuasive. -How that dear little girl at Farmer’s tried -to get me to take the silk dress. Didn’t she, -mother?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I was afraid she would succeed at one time, -my dear; you appeared to be hesitating.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I should have liked it, of course. Such -a lovely lilac. It suited my complexion perfectly, -she said; but I knew my allowance -wouldn’t stand it, and you have been so good, -my dear old dad. I don’t want you and mother -to think I can’t resist temptation.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Act on steady principles through life, my -dear, and you will never regret it. I don’t -say the silk dresses and other suitable vanities -may not come in time, but not just yet, not yet -for my little girls. And now for the reward of -merit. Mr. Hope is coming to dine with us -this evening, so you and Laura must entertain -him pleasantly.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, what a delightful surprise! Sydney is -full of them. Of course I knew we should see -him some time or other, but perhaps not for -ever so long, unless he called. I wonder if -he will be like my impression of him? Does -Laura know of it?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not until I go for her, unless you would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>like to send her a telegram; but I think she -will have full time for preparation.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a pity it will be if they keep her at -Chatsworth! They are sure to want to. But -don’t you give in, if they do ever so much.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“There will be the less necessity for that, my -dear Linda, as we are all to dine there on the -day after to-morrow. They can feast their eyes -on Laura and all the family then.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That is surprise number two. A real dinner-party! -It will be my first invitation to one. I -hope I shall behave well, and not upset my wine-glass -or do anything dreadful. I shall be looking -at the butler or the hostess, or the attractive -guests, I know, and break something. I think -I shall begin to practise calm dignity to-night, -mother. Don’t you think it a good -opportunity?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If my little girl remembers what she has -always been taught,” said the fond mother, -looking at the girlish, eager face, bright with -the hues of early womanhood, “and will not -think about herself, or the effect she is likely to -produce, she will do very well. I don’t think -we shall have cause to be ashamed of her. And -now for a little luncheon. My appetite is -really quite surprising.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>After lunch Mr. Stamford betook himself to -the Archaic Club, where it was tolerably certain -his friend would be found, for an hour or two. -By the way, how very few married men return -to their homes, even those of abounding leisure, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>before it is time to dress for dinner. They -will sit yawning at a club, when they have -nothing to do, where they care for nobody, and -don’t go in for reading or even play billiards, -until the late afternoon, when there is just time -to catch a cab or train to reach home in the -gathering twilight.</p> - -<p class='c017'>How, then, can these things be? The solution -of this and other social problems must -be left to the coming philosophical student, who -will analyse and depict the causes of all seeming -anomalies.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Mr. Stamford, on inquiring of the club -porter, found that his friend was at home, so to -speak, and had not been more than ten minutes -in an apartment very unostentatiously furnished, -which was devoted to the reception of strangers, -when Mr. Grandison entered.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Are you club magnates afraid that strangers -may run away with a chair or two, or a spare -sofa, that you are so confoundedly parsimonious -in the furniture line?” inquired Stamford. “I -have more than once considered the question -when I have been kicking my heels here and at -the Junior Pioneers, and that is the conclusion -I have arrived at. It must be so. Surely there -must be a legend of a dried-out squatter being -driven to spout an arm-chair or a table-cover. -Isn’t that it?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You’re in famous spirits, Harold, old man,” -said the capitalist, who was by no means over-joyous -of demeanour. “It’s the rain that’s done -it, I suppose. ’Pon my soul, you’re right about -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>this room. It isn’t fit for a gentleman to be -put into. I must bring it before the committee. -How are Mrs. Stamford and the girls? Brought -them down?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, we’re at Batty’s. I took Laura to -Chatsworth this morning; I’m going out now -to call for her. I saw Mrs. Grandison; she -was kind enough to ask us to dine on Thursday.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That’s all right. Now I’ll tell you what -I’ll do. The mail-phaeton will be here in five -minutes, and we’ll go out home together. I -want to have a talk with you. Things are not -going altogether right in the family, and I want -another good yarn with you. You know what -I told you about Carlo? Well, he’s done worse -since then, pretty near broke my heart and his -mother’s.” And here Mr. Grandison looked so -worried and hopeless that his friend felt himself -to be grossly selfish in that he found himself in -such good spirits.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’m very sorry to hear it, Bob, my dear -fellow,” said he with real concern. “But worse! -how can he have done worse?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He <em>has</em> done worse, much worse. He has -married, and married badly too, by Jingo!” and -here Mr. Grandison could no longer contain -himself.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I hate to talk about it,” said he, after a -pause, “but it’s one of those things that must -be faced. And of course you and I are too old -friends to mind telling each other the whole -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>truth. But the fact is, the confounded young -fool has gone and married a barmaid.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You don’t say so!” said Mr. Stamford, -starting back as from a blow, but gradually -bringing his mind to bear on the question, and -wondering how the consequences and complication -of such an inconceivable step in the case of -an eldest son would end. “Carlo a married -man! And to a barmaid too! Surely there -must be some mistake. How in the world did -it happen—how could it happen?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I suppose it could happen, because it did,” -answered his friend gloomily. “Unfortunately, -it’s only too true. The fact is, that while he -was living in Tasmania—you know he had just -gone there when you were in Sydney last, after -that card-scrape he got into here—he was living -an idle, aimless life. He did that here, for that -matter, so that there was no need for him to -complain about it so bitterly. I sent him a very -fair allowance, and thought he was well out of -harm’s way. He used to write his mother long -letters; I thought he was on the way to be -reformed.” Here Mr. Grandison lit a cigar.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What happened then?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“After that he wanted me to give him an -allowance, and let him go to Europe. I wish -to heaven I had done so now!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But why didn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Because I couldn’t trust him. I knew if I -let him go on that understanding, he would -overdraw his allowance—gamble on a large scale -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>at some of those foreign places—Baden Baden -or Homburg. Blow his brains out then, -perhaps.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I should have let him go, but I can understand -your very natural reluctance.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, he’s a bad boy, Stamford, there’s no -denying. But he’s my eldest son, my first -child. My God! how I remember all the love -and fondness poor Mary and I lavished on him—how -we fretted ourselves to death when he -had any childish complaint—the agony we were -in when he was away from home one night, we -thought he was lost. And to think he should -have repaid us for all our care and love, perhaps -foolish indulgence, like this—like this! It’s -very bitter; it’s hard to bear. Dashed if I -didn’t envy our gardener last week, whose son -was apprenticed to a blacksmith! I did, by -Jove! What’s all the money to us now?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It is hard, my dear fellow,” said Stamford, -touched by his friend’s evident distress and -hopeless air. “I pity you from my heart. -But are things so very bad? Can nothing be -done?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well they might be worse. The girl’s -character is good, I believe; she is a dairyman’s -daughter, with no education, and that’s all the -harm I know of her. She has a pretty face. -Carlo met her at a roadside inn near where he -was lodging. He writes over and says he was -so confoundedly dull and miserable that he’d -made up his mind he’d either marry the girl if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>she’d have him, or shoot himself. She did have -him. So this is the end of all our slaving and -striving for his benefit and to give him a chance -of keeping in the first flight of the best society -the colony could show. He goes and throws -himself away like this. And we have a -daughter-in-law that doesn’t know an aitch -when she sees it, I suppose, and if ever she -comes here, which isn’t likely, perhaps, can’t -tell a finger-glass from a flower-pot.” At this -dreadful picture evoked from his inner consciousness, -Mr. Grandison groaned again, and -made as if he could tear his hair, were such -gestures of grief permissible in a member of a -fashionable club.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford did not really know for the -moment what to say to console the unhappy -father, who, unless his son had died, could -hardly have been in a position of more hopeless -sorrow. No doubt some fathers would have -been sufficiently Spartan to have preferred an -honourable death to an undesirable marriage. -But, except in business matters, he was not a -hard man. Stamford knew that such Lacedæmonian -severity was alien to his nature. He -set himself to suggest consolatory ideas as the -London built phaeton drew up to the club -steps.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s a bad enough affair, doubtless. I won’t -say I don’t think so. I should have felt all -you do, in my own case.” Here Mr. Stamford -inwardly scoffed at the possibility of Hubert’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>acting in this manner under any possible circumstances. -“But it’s no use taking too sombre a -view. The girl is good looking, and honest, -which is much. She will, doubtless improve -with opportunities. If she has any strength of -character, she will probably keep Carlo straight -for the future. We have known such things -happen before. It’s a desperate remedy, but -occasionally efficacious.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Desperate! You may say so,” replied Mr. -Grandison, testily. “Take the other side of -the question. Suppose she turns out a flirt or a -scold—or both; runs away from him, or he -from her, leaving three or four half-bred brats -to worry me in my old age. What then?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>With the expression of these gloomy -apprehensions as to the probable matrimonial -fate of the heir apparent of Chatsworth and -many a fair acre of plain and woodland, the -phaeton entered the massive and ornate portals -of Chatsworth House, and crunched the immaculate -gravel, while the lord of all sat with -folded arms and darkened brow, indifferent as a -captive to outer grandeur.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Here we are! Come in Harold, old man,” -he said, as the wheels almost grazed the portico. -“By George, I could find it in my heart to sit -down and cry on our own doorstep, but we have -to live and see it out, I suppose. Didn’t you -say you were going to take Laura back? Better -stay and dine. Keep me company, there’s a -good fellow. I’m low enough, God knows!”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>Harold Stamford would have agreed to this -proposal at once, so touched was he by his old -friend’s woebegone appearance and desponding -words, but he recalled his own engagement. This -he pleaded successfully, adding, “You’ll have the -whole family here on Thursday.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“All right, if you can’t, you can’t. Here, -Bateman,” he called out to the coachman who -was driving away from the front, “don’t go -away yet. I want you to take Mr. Stamford -and his daughter home. You may as well go -back to Batty’s in comfort, and this pair doesn’t -get half work enough. They’ll be making a -bolt of it one of these days like Carlo, if I don’t -look out. Ha, ha!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Grandison’s laugh was not pleasant to -hear. His friend followed him into the drawing-room -in silence. Here sat the three ladies, -who were apparently not in bad spirits. Mrs. -Grandison had chased from her brow the marks -of care which were so apparent at an earlier -period of the day, and was joining, apparently -without effort, in the vivacious discourse of the -two young ladies. Miss Josie had contrived to -arise and apparel herself after the fashion of the -period, and though showing some of the pallor -produced by a round of gaiety in a semi-tropical -climate, was on the whole sufficiently attractive.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“So this is Laura,” said Mr. Grandison, as he -advanced and warmly greeted the young lady in -question. “Why, what a woman you’ve grown, -and a handsome one, too, or I mistake much. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>Why, Josie, we must send you up to the banks -of the Warra Warra, or wherever Windāhgil -is. Near Mooramah, isn’t it, Stamford? ’Pon -my soul! I forget where my own stations are -sometimes.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You won’t catch me going into the bush, -father!” said Miss Josie, in a rather sharp tone -of voice. “That is, not farther than North -Shore. It certainly agrees with some people, -and Laura here might play the part of Patience -without dressing. But Sydney is my home, and -I don’t mean to stir from it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s the worst day’s work I ever did in my -life when I brought you all to live here,” said -her father. “I wish to heaven we had continued -to live at the old bush cottage you were -born in, my lady.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t see what difference that would have -made, Robert,” said his wife.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But I do,” said the master of the house. -“You and your children would never have -learned the habits of fashionable folly and -reckless extravagance in which your lives are -spent. We might have been satisfied with a -more natural existence—aye, and, a happier -life.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If you only come home early to say disagreeable -things, my dear Robert, I must say -that I like the old way best,” said Mrs. Grandison -with dignity.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I would say a great many more things of -the same sort,” replied he, “if I could persuade -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>myself that they would do any good. But it is -too late now. We have sown the wind and -must reap the whirlwind.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>This form of discussion tended to render -things generally rather uncomfortable. It would -have been difficult to direct the conversation -into a more conventional channel had not Mr. -Grandison abruptly left the room.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I can’t think what has put Robert out so this -afternoon,” said his wife, “of course he keeps -worrying himself about that dreadful affair of -Carlo’s—wicked boy! He told you about that, -Mr. Stamford, I know. I’ve cried my eyes out, and -I shall never be the same woman again, I know. -But what is the use of making your life one long -misery for the sake of a selfish, disobedient son? -He never considered us, I firmly believe, since -he was a boy at school. Then why, as Josie -says, should we consider him? I am not going -to grieve over him any longer. He has chosen -his path.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He’s a selfish, stupid, unprincipled fellow,” -said Josie, with an air of cold decision. “He -has done everything he could to disgrace himself -and us. I am not going to spoil my life on his -account, and I shall never mention his name, or -that of the servant-girl he has chosen to bring -into the family.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I think you are too hard; I do indeed, -Josie!” said her mother, “though he deserves -very little at our hands. You are not his mother, -my dear, and you don’t know how it feels. But -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>I can’t think we should deny ourselves anything -in society for his sake. Just at the beginning -of the gay season in Sydney, too!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Laura, who had looked extremely grave -throughout the discussion, now felt inclined to -smile at Mrs. Grandison’s distressful <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>finale</em></span>. She -rose, and looked at her father to explain the -absolute necessity for their departure.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We shall see you all here at dinner on Thursday, -then, mind that!” said their hostess. “And, -Laura, put on your best bib and tucker. I’ll -have some of our show young men to meet -you.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’m sure I don’t know where you’ll find -them, mother,” said Josie, disdainfully. “Since -the Lorenzo went to Fiji, there hasn’t been -a man in Sydney fit to look at.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The coachman’s temper was not improved by -the length of time during which he had been -kept waiting. One of the highly-conditioned, -irregularly-exercised horses had indeed revenged -himself by pawing and scraping, the result of -which was a hole in the gravel, which caused the -head gardener to use a much stronger expression -when he saw it than, still mindful of kirk and -minister, he was in the habit of employing.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As they went spinning down the incline to -Double Bay, in the easy, well-hung carriage, her -father said, “Wouldn’t you like to have a drag -like this, my dear, to put your husband down at -his office in if you were married and lived in -Sydney?”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>“That means if I were somebody else altogether,” -replied Laura, with a slight blush. “I -can’t say how I might act then. But if you ask -me whether I would change places with the poor -people in the splendid house we have just left, -I say, with the country mouse, ‘Give me my -hollow tree and liberty,’ or rather our love and -affection for each other. I don’t think anything -could happen to alter that; do you, father?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford answered by a quick, decided -movement rather than by words. It is to be -hoped no one in that fashionable suburb observed -the action; but even if so, the faultlessly aristocratic -appearance of the equipage in which the -offenders sat would have sufficed to condone the -offence.</p> - -<p class='c017'>A comparatively short time saw them at Hyde -Park—too short, indeed, it seemed to Laura, -eager to enjoy the varied beauty of the scene. -The splendours of the dying day, the roll of the -surge upon the outer shore, the rising ocean -breeze, all these seemed to the keen and cultured -sense of the enthusiastic maiden but portions -of a wondrous panorama, of which each hour -furnished a fresh presentment.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Linda, from the balcony, beheld them arrive -in state, and waved her handkerchief in token of -welcome and approval. “Oh! Laura, I was -beginning to think you were never coming. -What kept you so late? You will hardly have -time to dress for dinner, and I do so want you -to look well.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>“Why should you want me to look well? I -fancied I was looking rather nice—that is, for a -country cousin, as Josie says.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What!” almost shouted Linda; “hasn’t -father told you? I see he hasn’t—isn’t it just -like him? If the Duke of Edinburgh and Lord -Wolseley were coming to dinner he’d forget -all about it. And yet he thinks he’s a good -father.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“So he is,” said Laura, “and I won’t have -him run down. What is the dreadful secret? -Has the aide-de-camp come to ask us to dinner -at Government House?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No! But without joking, Laura, it is a -matter of importance. That is—we should -have thought so at Windāhgil. Mr. Barrington -Hope is coming to dine.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Is he?” said Laura, coolly. Linda afterwards -said it was “unnatural calmness.” “Then -suppose you ask the maid to turn on the gas -directly. We must put on our best bibs and -tuckers, as Mrs. Grandison says.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Barrington Hope arrived in due time, -accurately apparelled and looking—as most men -do—to great advantage in evening costume. -Though much above the ordinary height, his -breadth of shoulder and justness of proportion -prevented any appearance of incongruity. -Evidently one of those persons who wisely -dismiss the problems of the day with their -ordinary garb, his features wore an entirely -different expression, so closely allied to careless -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>ease that Mr. Stamford could hardly believe he -saw before him the anxious brain-worker of the -morning.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As the two men stood together on the -balcony overlooking the bay with its evening -crowd of water-wayfarers and pleasure seekers, -the elder said—</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How wonderful an image of rest and peace -a calm sea presents, especially at this hour! -There are hard work and deep thoughts frequently -upon blue water, but I confess I can -never connect them together.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“My own feeling, quite,” said Hope. “I -am passionately fond of the sea, but few people -have less time for indulging such a taste. I -always feel it to be the true home of the lotus-eater. -‘In calm or storm, by rock or bay,’ -there is rest for the soul when on the deep. If -I were safely embarked for Europe and clear of -the Heads, I should almost expire of joy, I -really believe.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But why do you not take a holiday—a run -to Fiji, San Francisco, Galle, anywhere? All -places strange and foreign are equally good for -change.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Or to the moon,” laughed the young man. -“Nearly as much chance of getting to one as -the other. However, I will think it over and -arrange.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Depend upon it, you should not delay. I -am something of a physiognomist, and I see -reasons for a foreign tour. Why not make an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>application? Urgent private affairs. They -could not be more truthfully described. But -here come my young people.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Stamford and her daughters now appeared. -With her usual prompt kindness she -advanced, upon hearing her husband commence -a formal introduction, and held out her hand to -the young man.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You are well known to us by name, Mr. -Hope! I have great pleasure, believe me, in -making your acquaintance. I trust some day -that we may be able to see you at Windāhgil. -You will be indeed welcome to our country -home.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Hope bowed with an air as if disclaiming -all title to unusual indulgence, but his eyes -strayed from the kind face of the speaker to -that of Laura Stamford, to whom, with Linda, -he was now presented.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Both these young ladies, in spite of an air of -calm repose, were inwardly somewhat agitated -at beholding a personage in whose favour they -had heard so much. Prone, like most damsels -of the romantic age, to invest the probable -hero with striking attributes, they had yet fallen -short of a correct estimate of Barrington Hope’s -appearance. Connecting him in more or less -degree with his mercantile profession, they had -expected perhaps a look of greater age, a more -concentrated regard, or care-encumbered countenance. -When therefore they were confronted -by one of the best-looking, best-dressed men in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>the metropolis, separated as to air and manner -apparently from any commonplace pecuniary -labours, they could hardly believe their eyes.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Linda was inwardly gnashing her teeth, and -reproaching the author of her being in that he -was such an inefficient hand at description. -“Would not any one have imagined, Laura,” -she said afterwards, “that Mr. Hope was a -hard-headed sort of person, clever at figures -and all that, and good to us? And now, quite -suddenly we are brought face to face with a -magnificent man—the finest man I ever saw in -my life. Isn’t it a shame—a crying shame, -Laura?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Isn’t what a crying shame? That Mr. Hope -is asked to dine, or that we couldn’t write and -request his photograph before the original burst -upon us in all his glory? Do you think you -would have liked to behave differently?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am sure I can’t tell. But it was such a -surprise. I might have fainted and disgraced -myself. But you are such a cold-blooded creature, -Laura; I sometimes think you have no -heart.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“H’m,” said Laura, “that is a matter of -opinion. I do not profess to wear my heart -upon my sleeve, but there is an article of the -kind somewhere deep down, I daresay. What -do I think about Mr. Hope? I think him -very nice. He is well-informed, though he -did not parade his knowledge. Understands -the science of music, and plays with taste. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>don’t know that I can say more about him at -present.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a prosaic list of qualities; it might -have been read out of a book! But didn’t you -like him a great deal?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How could I like any one a great deal the -first day I met him? Do you think I resemble -Miss Morton’s heroines, who meet a perfectly -unknown young man, and in an hour have told -him all their family affairs and inmost thoughts? -That kind of transparent simplicity is not in -my line.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But you do like him, Laura. Say you do -really.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Of course I like a handsome, agreeable man -who has been of the greatest use and benefit to -the family, as I like any pleasant acquaintance. -Further than that I decline to commit myself. -And now let me go to sleep.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How you can go to sleep entirely astonishes -me. Oh! wasn’t it a delightful dinner? I felt -so nice. I am sure I looked the essence of propriety -and countrified inexperience. Do you -think he could discover that we had seen very -little society, Laura?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If he was not a very unobservant man he -might easily have made out so much, I should -say; that is if he troubled himself to study us -so deeply. What can it matter?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was not only on that memorable evening -that Barrington Hope produced a favourable -impression upon the youthful portion of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>Stamford family. Mrs. Stamford was charmed -with him. His manner was so easy, yet so -deferential and so respectful to her and her -daughters. Well-informed as to the European -politics of the day, he inferentially, in an argument -with Mr. Stamford, showed himself to be -widely read. He was familiar with the latest -songs, the very last waltz; he sang a duet with -Laura, and even played an accompaniment -which showed more than theoretical knowledge -of the science of music.</p> - -<p class='c017'>When he made his adieux somewhat early in -the evening, every voice was musical in his -praise.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He’s a delightful creature,” said Linda, -“all my fancy painted him, and more. How -different he is from most of the men one meets. -So free from conceit, and yet he knows so much, -doesn’t he? And what a good touch he has on -the piano! But men always play better than -we do when they play at all. When are we -going to see him again?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He is to send us tickets for the Bachelors’ -Ball,” said Laura. “We shall meet him there, -of course. What a grand affair it is to be!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall catch a fever and die before the day -arrives,” said Linda, plaintively. “The happiness -will be too great to be realised. Oh! oh, -dear! Oh! dear! how shall we pass the intervening -days? Luckily our dresses will take up -a good deal of our thoughts and spare time. Do -you think he dances well, Laura?”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>“Mr. Hope appears to do many things well. -I don’t suppose he showed us all his good qualities -in one evening. He is a man of the world, -and doesn’t have all his goods in the shop -window at once.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a horrid idea, Laura. You haven’t -half as much sentiment as I have. I hope he -hasn’t many more accomplishments; I don’t -care for a man being perfect. Perhaps he has a -bad temper underneath. Men with soft voices -often have.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I didn’t notice any uncommon softness of -voice. I thought he spoke naturally, which is -the great thing after all, with men or women -either. But after we go to the ball you will -most likely discover that there are other men in -the world.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t care. I am quite certain there are -very few nicer ones, if any. I think you must -admire him yourself, Laura; you are so guarded -about him, and I am sure he has taken a fancy -to you.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Nonsense, Linda! Really you are old -enough to talk more sensibly. How can any -one form any liking or otherwise in a single -evening?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What, not love at first sight?” exclaimed -Linda, jumping up in an excited manner. “Do -you disbelieve wholly in that? What does -Disraeli say in that lovely <cite>Venetia</cite> of his? -‘There is no love but love at first sight,’ or first -love, I forget which.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>“They are different things,” answered Laura; -“but Disraeli ought to have more sense than to -write in a way to turn silly girls’ heads. I -think your novel-reading will have to be restricted, -Linda, before long; I must really -speak to mother.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s too late now, Laura. I’ve read all sorts -of things, but they don’t do girls any harm. -Bad companions do, if you like. They are -destructive; but we never had any friends that -we were ashamed of. And so you don’t like -Mr. Hope.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I didn’t say that,” answered Laura; “but -really you’re as persistent as an interviewer, -Linda,” and she quitted the room.</p> - -<p class='c017'>In spite of Linda’s repeated assertions that the -week preceding the ball never would come to an -end, the despised days passed away—perhaps too -quickly indeed for some people. A picnic in -the harbour, the detail of which was arranged -by Mr. Hope, and which every one enjoyed -ecstatically, as Linda avowed, perhaps aided the -flight of time. A visit to the theatre, where -the London Comedy Company was performing, -also tended to prevent undue concentration of -thought. And, oh! wonder of wonders, and -joy of joys, was not the Intercolonial Exhibition, -that Aladdin’s Palace of Art and Industry, daily -open, daily enjoyed to the very acme of novel -excitement?</p> - -<p class='c017'>How delicious was it to stroll around the -fountain in the afternoon of each day, while the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>music of the Austrian Band rose to the lofty -roof or floated dreamlike amid the aisles and -courts; to sit silently absorbing delicious sounds -amid the strange beauty and variety of the -scene; to wander amid the heaped up riches of -the curiosities of every land under the sun, -encountering well-known friends unexpectedly, -or exchanging the pleasantries of the hour with -gay acquaintances. Such were the resources -thrown open to the erstwhile dwellers at Windāhgil. -Small surprise need therefore be aroused -by Linda’s next declaration, that the ball would -be upon them all too swiftly, and find them -unprepared. Strangely sweet sorrows and sighs -of youth! joys in disguise are they for the most -part.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Although the ball bore the name of the -Bachelors’, it was generally known to be an -entertainment got up by the unmarried members -of the leading clubs. As was their wont, no -expense would be spared. Invitations had been -comparatively restricted; many had been disappointed -who had made certain of the privilege. -All this, of course, made the happy possessors -of the tickets still more gratified by their good -fortune. The finest hall in the city had been -secured for the occasion. The ornamentation -was said to be unparalleled, the supper without -precedent for style and expensiveness. A celebrated -European band, then on a tour through -Australia, had been engaged. Sailors from a -man-of-war anchored in the harbour were kindly -lent to hold a rope which served to divide the -ball-room. It was questionable whether so truly -magnificent a ball had ever been given in Sydney, -or perhaps would be given again.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The weather was evidently “set fair”—there -would be no deduction from comfort on that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>account. It was weeks since a great society -entertainment had been given. The <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>haute volée</em></span> -of Sydney was manifestly fluttered. Some of -the younger feminine members openly stated -that, after tasting to the full of its delights, they -would be ready to lie down and die.</p> - -<p class='c017'>At length the long-expected day arrived, on -the night of which the fondly-anticipated -Bachelors’ Ball was to take place. All feminine -adult Sydney—that is to say, the fortunate -section which was entitled to the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>entrée</em></span>—was -moved to its centre. No statistics are to hand -of the number of dressmakers who temporarily -became of unsound mind because of the terrific -call upon their fingers and brains, tempers and -tongues. Nevertheless, according to the doctrine -of averages, there must have been a certain -number of the managers and of the young -persons whose passage to an early grave was -thereby accelerated.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Stamford, wisely forecasting, had carried -out arrangements for her own and the girls’ -dresses at a comparatively early period, had got -them home with all necessary alterations and -trimmings decided upon long before the real -crush of the thoughtless began, or the panic of -the dangerously late set in.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Simple as were the materials, few the ornaments, -and unobtrusive the accordance with the -prevailing fashion, the full measure of satisfactory -fitting was not completed without -several interviews and divers alterations. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>sum total of her milliner’s bill astonished, even -alarmed, Mrs. Stamford.</p> - -<p class='c017'>But her husband, when giving her <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>carte -blanche</em></span>, had intimated that he did not wish -trifling economies to be studied, that his wife -and daughters must look their best; all the -world was to be there, and as it was to be a -rare occasion, they had better take full advantage -of it.</p> - -<p class='c017'>When the hour sounded, Laura had been -dressed and finished to the last lace; had indeed -been sitting quietly reading, awaiting the arrival -of their carriage. But Linda could not contain -her impatience. She walked up and down the -sitting-room spreading out her dress occasionally, -and requesting her mother to say if it was -“straight,” whether her flowers were exactly in -their places, whether it would not have been -better for her to have worn another colour. -This conversation was varied by wondering -whether she would get any partners, or have to -sit on a seat the whole evening; whether Mr. -Hope would find them out, or be so occupied -with his duties as steward that he would not -observe them or have time to dance with them. -To which inquiries her parents either were -unable to reply satisfactorily or said she would -see when she got there.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Do you know, Laura,” she suddenly added, -“impartially speaking, you are really a pretty -girl! I am sure if I were a stranger I should -think so; I should indeed. Your features are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>not perfection, except your eyes, I mean—I -don’t think any one could say they were not -first class. But you have a very taking look -when you are interested about anything; and -then you are tallish and slight—not too tall -either. You could look dignified too, if you -liked, which is a great advantage to a woman, -while I am afraid I never could. If I were to -set my mouth and knit my brows and say ‘Sir! -I fail to understand you,’ people would only -laugh and pat me on the back. It would never -freeze the blood in their veins, or anything of -that sort. Now ‘father, dearest father!’ as the -Wanderer in the play says, don’t you think -Laura looks perfectly splendid to-night?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Bless her heart!” said Mr. Stamford, -answering the question while he gazed at his -eldest daughter with fond admiration, “she -looks like a—like a queen in a book, like a -princess in the <cite>Arabian Nights</cite>; like her father’s -own dear girl. I trust she will enjoy herself as -much as she deserves; and you too, Linda, -darling.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Laura Stamford without doubt did look a -most perfect incarnation of innocent, girlish -beauty. And, indeed, when is a maiden more -likely to present that appearance than on the -night of the first ball of note and importance -to which she has been bidden? Her cheek -slightly flushed with the excitement of untasted -pleasure, her eyes sparkling with innocent excitement; -her red-rose lips; her rounded arms; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>her ivory neck; her slender, supple form; her -free, elastic step—if these attributes do not, in -combination, make up the wondrous, God-given, -crowning gift of beauty, then have the grateful -eyes of mankind never been gladdened with the -vision.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Father is perfectly just in his opinion of -dear Laura’s appearance to-night,” said Mrs. -Stamford, with a mother’s guarded approval; -“and my little girl here, too, looks extremely -nice. I might say more, were I not afraid of -making her vain. I can only tell her not to be -anxious about herself; to trust to the course of -events, and all will go well. We must have a -grand talk over it all to-morrow morning.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Here comes the carriage at last, I am thankful -to say,” said Laura, as the grand London-made -barouche rolled up to the door, while the -footman rang the bell sufficiently long to make -a nervous inmate conclude it to be a fire.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Muffle up and run down, my dears! We -must not keep three hundred guineas’ worth of -horseflesh waiting at night,” said her father.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Grandison and Josie were in the carriage. -The former made room beside her for Mrs. -Stamford, saying, “You girls must sit together -on the back seat. It’s large enough to hold -four of you now there’s no crinoline—at least, -none to speak of. Perhaps Mr. Stamford -won’t mind sitting on the box—once upon a -time two people would have filled this carriage. -How did you get on with your dresses, girls? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>Mine and Josie’s only came late in the afternoon, -after that infamous Madame Rocheretti -promising to have them fitted on and everything -done in the way of trimmings yesterday. -However, she threw herself on my mercy, as -she said the Government House people had -come down upon her at the last moment.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Josie. -“However, I have made up my mind to have -my dresses made at Justine’s in future. She is -dearer, but she has twice as much originality. -What have you got on, Laura?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Nothing very wonderful. We went to -mother’s old dressmaker, Madame Schlesinger, -that she used to have when she was first -married. She is behind the times, I dare say, -but a ball is a ball with Linda and me. We -shall enjoy ourselves, I dare say. If we are -much disfigured this time, we shall gradually -advance to a knowledge of high millinery.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You’ll see when you go into the room how -the other women are dressed,” said Josie -authoritatively. “If you’re dowdy, it will make -you so miserable that you’ll be more careful -next time. I would have come down and given -you a hint or two, but I make it a rule never to -stir out on the day of a ball, and all yesterday I -was too busy.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It is very kind of you,” said Laura, warmly, -“and we were uncertain about several things, -but it doesn’t matter particularly.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Laura must make up by freshness and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>youth what she wants in style,” said Mrs. -Grandison good-humouredly. “I dare say she -and Linda will do very well, though I really -believe Josie’s will be the best dress in the room. -And indeed it ought to be. Mr. Grandison’s -cheque, and it was a large one, didn’t nearly -pay for it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Laura is only a year younger than I am, -mamma,” said Josie, rather sharply. “One -would think I was getting quite an old hag. I -wonder if all the best men are going? Is that -good looking Mr. Hope sure to be there?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes,” said Linda; “he told us he was one -of the committee.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Further conversation was rendered difficult -by the dashing of the carriage into the “line.” -The string of ball-ward carriages, of which they -now formed a part, compelled them to proceed -at a walk until the foremost vehicles drove up -and deposited their occupants. The novelty of -making a part of such an astonishing procession -almost roused Linda’s spirits to the point of -expressing the admiration of everything which -she felt. But, recalling her mother’s advice -and the responsibility of decorous demeanour -now cast upon her, she refrained, at great -personal cost and self-denial. She was rewarded -in turn by the arrival of the carriage at the -magic portal, from the interior of which a blaze -of lamps and fairy splendour was visible.</p> - -<p class='c017'>A few moments saw them safely ushered into -the dressing-room, provided with all accessories -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>needful for repairing temporary damage or -partial disarray. Small stay, however, was made -here, and after Josie had gazed at herself in the -mirrors from every conceivable point, and had -herself adjusted by her obedient mother in -several different modes, they bent their steps -towards the main entrance to the ball-room, -where they found Mr. Stamford awaiting them. -By a curious coincidence, Mr. Barrington Hope -chanced to come that way, when, giving his arm -to Mrs. Stamford and Laura, he walked up to -the top of the enormous room, leaving Mr. -Stamford to bring up the rear with Mrs. -Grandison and the two girls.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The latter lady lost no time in locating -herself next to the wife of a well-known -member of Parliament, and at no great distance -from the wife and daughter of the -Governor.</p> - -<p class='c017'>She signed to Mrs. Stamford to sit next to -her, and being thus within the Vice-regal circle, -as it were, considered the seating and rendezvous -part of the business to be settled for the night.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Barrington Hope immediately possessed -himself of Laura’s card, upon which he inscribed -his name for two waltzes and said -something about an extra as well. Josie was -surrounded by several of the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>jeunesse dorée</em></span>, who -appropriated a large share of the dances not -marked engaged. Of these there were several -unnamed, and yet not open. When questioned, -she declined to give the names of her partners, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>merely remarking that she reserved them for -friends. As for Linda, she sat down in a state -of wonder and admiration at the whole splendid -array, to her astonished gaze supernal in glory -and dazzling in brilliancy. The magnificent and -lofty hall, the crowd of well-dressed men and -women, the glass-like floor, the melodious crash -of the band, which filled the room with the -music of the spheres, as it seemed to her, the -hall divided by a rope held by picturesque tars -modelled upon the lines of the nautical melodrama; -the swing and sway of the immortal -dance-music of Johann Strauss—which had for -some time commenced—the uniforms of the -naval and military officers, all these wonders -and splendours for a time obscured in her -mind the fact that nobody had as yet asked -her to dance.</p> - -<p class='c017'>She had suddenly become aware of this -fact, and was subsiding into a plaintive and -resigned condition, a prey to dismal anticipations, -when Mr. Hope suddenly appeared in -company of a naval lieutenant, whom he begged -leave to introduce.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Linda bowed with acquiescence, and the next -moment was whirling around with the joyous -throng, conscious that she danced well, feeling -herself to be one of the leading performers, and -quite on a par with all other individuals of her -age and sex.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The young officer danced well, as do naval -men generally. He talked easily and agreeably, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>with that happy mixture of brusquerie and -refinement which renders the service so irresistible. -Linda apparently came up to his -standard of a nice girl and a desirable partner, -since he begged leave to put down his name for -two more dances; he also brought up some -brother officers, including a stout doctor and a -small but preternaturally cool and amusing midshipman, -so that when Mr. Hope came for -his dance, he was nearly crowded out by the -naval brigade, who quite encompassed Linda, -to the exclusion of the most irreproachable -civilians.</p> - -<p class='c017'>If Linda was a success, it seemed that Laura -was destined to achieve a genuine triumph.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Shortly after her first dance with Barrington -Hope there appeared to be an unusual amount -of interest displayed in the vicinity of Mrs. -Grandison, who, of course, was extensively -known in the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>grande monde</em></span>. A variety of -entertaining conversation was indulged in with -that lady, generally ending with a respectful -request for an introduction to the young lady in -white.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The good-natured matron did not grudge the -girl her meed of praise; still she occasionally -remarked without satisfaction that the great -guns of the fashionable world, the inheritors of -wealth and estates of proverbial grandeur, the -travelled and fastidious “elegants,” contented -themselves with a passing notice or a laughing -exchange of badinage with Josie while they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>struggled for Laura’s card, and searched closely -the lower figures of the programme, uncertain as -she declared it to be that her party would -remain to conclude it.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Grandison, who had stayed rather late at -the club over a seductive hand of whist, now -came up in time to glance at things generally. -He was extremely complimentary as to the -appearance of his young friends, and declared -that Laura had been voted the belle of the ball -by several of the leading authorities of the club, -against whose decision there was manifestly no -appeal.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“There’s a sort of freshness, and, well, I -hardly know what to call it,” he said, “about -girls that come from the country that fetches -the men of taste. The town girls are better -millinered and so on; but they can’t get the -colour and the innocent look, the—ah—dew-drop, -early morning sort of brightness,” continued -Mr. Grandison, who had refreshed liberally -with the Heidsiek dry monopole which the -club imported, and was becoming poetical. -“That’s what there’s no standing against. -Dash it, Stamford, old fellow! Laura’s cut -’em all down to-night. White dress, rose in -her hair, and so on. It’s the real thing when -the complexion will stand it. There’s not a -girl here to-night who’s a patch on her. I -heard Donald M’Intosh say so himself.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>This stupendous announcement produced no -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>reply for the moment. That <em>the</em> bachelor -eligible, <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>par excellence</em></span>, the man of estates and -establishments, who had travelled, had taken an -English University degree, distinguished equally -for tennis play as for parliamentary influence, -who was generally an invited member of the -Vice-regal party at public demonstrations and -amusements, that <em>he</em> should have awarded -the golden pippin to the unknown provincial -damsel, struck Mrs. Grandison dumb with -astonishment, and caused Josie to turn paler -with envy than even her ordinary complexion -warranted.</p> - -<p class='c017'>When Mrs. Grandison recovered herself, she -said, “Upon my word, Mr. Grandison, you’re -determined to make the girl vain—though -she is dancing now, and can’t hear. One would -think you hadn’t a daughter of your own. Not -but what Laura does look very nice, Mrs. Stamford, -only it seems to me the champagne’s very -good to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What do people come to a ball for?” -returned her husband, gallantly. “Come over -to the supper-table and have a glass yourself, -my dear. Stamford, you bring my wife and -Josie. I’ll take Mrs. Stamford, and we’ll drink -Laura’s health. After that it’s time to go -home. Struck two, and the best of the fun’s -over.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’ve had enough,” said Josie, who had sat -out the last two dances. “For my part, I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>begin to hate balls; they get stupider every -time, I think. And, oh, how tired I am!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>So in ten minutes afterwards, Mr. Stamford -and his wife marched down the room and carried -off their daughters, to the great and sincere -grief of their prospective partners.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER X</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Laura Stamford, like other girls, would -have preferred to stay at the ball for -another hour—to have danced another waltz -with Mr. Donald M’Intosh, who indeed made -himself most agreeable. But her natural tendencies -lay in the direction of sympathetic -consideration for others. When, therefore, she -remarked the tired look on her mother’s face, -and, moreover, instantly remembered that they -were to be conveyed homeward in the -Grandisons’ carriage, she at once declared her -willingness to depart, telling her despairing -partner that “she must really go; Mrs. -Grandison and her mother were waiting for -her.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If I persuade Mrs. Grandison to wait for -the next waltz, may I say I have your permission?” -eagerly inquired Mr. M’Intosh.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No! indeed, no!” said Laura, looking at -Mrs. Stamford’s resigned yet weary countenance, -the lines on which she could read so -well. “No, thank you! I must say good bye, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>I really must not consent to stay on any terms -whatever. Please to take me to my mother.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. M’Intosh bowed low, and made his most -impressive adieu. After which he betook himself -to the supper-room, and declined dancing -for the short time for which he remained among -the revellers.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Latish, but not unreasonably near to lunchtime, -the Stamford family showed up to breakfast -after the ball.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Every one was tolerably fresh. The slight -pallor, the darkened lines under the eyes of -Laura and Linda, only communicated an added -charm to their youthful countenances.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Stamford looked hardly restored, but -after the first cup of tea rallied, and enjoyed a -<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>réchauffé</em></span> of the great night’s entertainment.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Whatever happens, <span lang="de" xml:lang="de"><em>Ich habe gelebt und -geliebt</em></span>,” said Linda, who had a turn for German -literature. “I did not believe such happiness -was to be found on earth! And to think that -I am only nineteen, too! I shall die early, or -else it will consume me.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You certainly seemed to be having a very -pleasant time of it, with your naval friends,” -assented Laura. “People’s views of the area -of existence must be enlarging. But it certainly -was the most transcendent ball. I feel -almost humiliated at having enjoyed it so -much.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I begin to think we must not have many -dances of that sort,” said Mrs. Stamford. “I’m -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>afraid they are too exciting. You girls will find -Windāhgil dull and prosaic after this.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not at all,” said Laura, taking her mother’s -hand affectionately. “We shall have souvenirs -that will last us a year, that is all. Next to -coming to town the going back to dear, peaceful, -happy old Windāhgil is the greatest pleasure I -can imagine in life.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Won’t it be delightful,” said Linda, -“talking over all our experiences? Then reading -up the lovely books we’re taking home. I -always wonder how any one can call “the bush” -dull. It will be a perfect elysium of rest after -all this fierce excitement.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And when are we to go home?” inquired -Mr. Stamford tentatively; “at the end of the -week?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! no, no! out of the question,” called -out both the girls.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Mr. Fitzurse said,” pleaded Linda, “that -they were going to have a <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>déjeuner</em></span> and a dance -on board the <cite>Eurydice</cite> on Monday, and if I -didn’t go the ship would turn over and sink, -like the <cite>Austral</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Mr. M’Intosh mentioned something about a -<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>matinée musicale</em></span> which was to be at Government -House on Tuesday,“ said Laura, at which -Mademoiselle Claironnet was to give her celebrated -recitals out of <cite>Lohengrin</cite>. It would be a -pity to miss that. He felt sure we would have -tickets sent us.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“There’s to be a tennis party at the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>Whartons’,” said Linda, “on Wednesday. -They have an asphalte court, and the winners of -the last tournament are to be there, besides Miss -Constance Grey, who is the champion Melbourne -player. I want to see if I have any of my old -form left.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Mr. Hope is going to drive four-in-hand to -the picnic at Botany Heads on Thursday,” said -Laura, carelessly; “he said he could easily take -us all, and I was to have the box seat. It would -be almost a pity not to go, don’t you think?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Exactly so,” said Mr. Stamford; “and -we’re all to dine at Chatsworth on Friday, so it -looks as if the week was pretty well discounted -in advance. Well, Saturday for recovery, on -Sunday we’ll all go to the Cathedral, on -Monday—mind, Monday week—we start for -home, if all the picnics, parties, and pleasure-promises -of Sydney were to be left unfurnished -and unfulfilled.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am sure, girls, you should think your -father the best of living parents,” said Mrs. -Stamford. “I don’t know how we can be -grateful enough to him. I wanted a day’s -shopping before our departure, and this will give -us time to finish up comfortably. I was dreadfully -afraid that we should have to leave town -this week.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Laura and Linda laughed outright at this.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Why, mother,” said Linda, we couldn’t do -that without breaking our words, being ungrateful, -and doing everything that you have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>brought us up not to do; could we, Laura? I -promised faithfully to go to this dance on board -the <cite>Eurydice</cite>; she’s anchored in Neutral Bay, and -Mr. Fitzurse said he’d send a boat specially for -us. It would be disgraceful to throw him over.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And who gave you leave to promise and -vow, Miss Linda, in the absence of your parents, -may I ask?” said Mr. Stamford. “You don’t -seem to understand that, unless we are consulted, -all your undertakings are vain.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! but I knew you would approve,” said -Linda; “besides Mr. Fitzurse was so respectful -and nice—perfectly timid, in fact—that I thought -it would be unladylike to refuse. And we have -never seen a man-of-war—a ship I mean. What -a lot we shall have to tell Hubert, shall we not, -mother?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If you tell him everything you’ll have a -great historiette, or confession, whatever you -call it, to make,” said Laura, “if one may -judge by the amount of chattering I saw going -on.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Some people may not chatter, but do a -great deal of serious—h’m—friendship-making -in the same time,” retorted Linda. “But I -don’t mind, I’m so happy. Everything’s delightful. -I had no idea the world was such a -nice place.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Although matters could not be expected to -keep up to the degree of high pressure -indicated, an unusual and highly satisfactory -amount of recreation was transacted during the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>remainder of the reprieve allowed by fate and -Mr. Stamford.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The dance on board the <cite>Eurydice</cite> came off, -when Linda enjoyed the supreme and exquisite -felicity of being taken off from the pier in a -barge with twelve rowers and the <cite>Eurydice</cite> flag -flying; the crew being dominated by an implacable -midshipman of the sternest demeanour. -They were received with all due formality and -ceremony at the gangway, and being thereafter -marshalled about by Lieutenant Fitzurse, before -envious comrades, Linda’s joy was complete. -The dance, as most naval entertainments are, -was wonderfully organised, and truly successful. -Epauletted heroes were plentiful, and even the -Commodore himself graciously explained the -rudiments of nautical science to Laura and her -mother. The happy day ended with a -romantic return sail, with a favouring breeze, -under a silver moon, over the mystical, motionless -deep.</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was fairyland once more possible in this -world below. The happy girls could hardly -realise that they were the same people who had -been, but one little year ago, mourning the -unkind season, sadly contending with the wrath -of Heaven and the wrongs of earth.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>matinée musicale</em></span>, honoured by Vice-regal -patronage, was also transacted with all -the society population of Sydney in full array -and punctual attendance. Here Mr. Donald -M’Intosh, a distinguished amateur, held pre-eminent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>sway. His “marked attentions” to -Laura caused her to be the observed of all -observers, a circumstance which, however, did -not interfere with her frankly expressed enjoyment -of the musical luxuries.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Why, Laura!” said her cousin, “if you go -on in this way you and Linda will have all the -Sydney girls mobbing you, or petitioning for -your rustication without delay. You have -fascinated the sailors, and not contented with -that, you seem only to have to hold up your -hand to have that difficult, delightful Mr. -M’Intosh, the least susceptible man in Sydney, -at your feet. Then there is Mr. Hope, -neglecting his business and driving four-in-hand, -as I hear to this picnic, all for your sake! -What is your charm, may I ask?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t quite understand you, Josie,” she -answered (which, perhaps, was pardonably insincere); -“we are enjoying ourselves very -much, and everybody is extremely kind.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I should think so, indeed,” replied Miss -Josie, scornfully.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As for the great picnic, everybody was there. -The day was lovely, the sea calm, the sky of the -glowing azure which the south land only boasts, -the road perfect. The rival four-in-hand drags, -including Mr. Hope’s chestnuts, combined to -produce a perfectly faithful presentment of the -ideal life which Linda had previously concluded -to be limited to society novels, and the, perhaps, -mythical personages depicted therein.</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>There was even a Royal Duke among the -guests, though when he was pointed out to her, -Laura committed the error of mistaking for him -a well-known officer of police in attendance, -whose aristocratic figure and distinguished bearing -at once decided her in her quest for royalty. -However, the slight mistake was soon rectified, -and the day burned itself into her maiden -consciousness as one of those seasons of enjoyment -which rarely fulfil anticipation, but if so, -continue to illumine the halls of memory until -life’s latest hour.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“This is our farewell to the sea for a while,” -thought Laura. “I can’t help feeling melancholy. -What a lovely haze spreads over the -ocean in the distance! How strange to think -that it is nearly a hundred years since Cook -sailed into these silent headlands. What a new -world he was preparing! It was more than a -discovery. Almost a creation. Oh, day of -days! Oh, whispering breeze! Oh, soft blue -sky! Can the earth hold anything more -lovely?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The “pleasures and palaces” having come to -an end, the fatal Monday made its unwelcome -appearance.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As the Stamfords’ day of departure was -known, there was an unwonted influx of afternoon -visitors at their rooms, besides a dropping -fire of cards, notes, and messages, expressive of -different shades of regret.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, dear! I had no idea Sydney was such a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>nice place,” exclaimed Linda, as the twilight -hour approached, and the stream of friends and -acquaintances ceased to flow. “I could not -have believed there were so many delightful -people in the world. Why will writers say so -many unpleasant things about society? It seems -full of polite, graceful, affectionate persons. As -for the malignant and wicked people that all the -books rave about, where are they? We have -not seen them, certainly, or even heard of them, -have we, Laura?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I believe not—yes—no,” answered Laura, -absently. “But who said anybody was wicked?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Nobody, of course,” explained Linda. “I -only meant that in every book you read there -are pages and pages devoted to descriptions of -ingeniously wicked people, who seem as common -in every city as bookmakers at a racecourse, -whereas I said we never see any of them, or hear -either.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“See whom?” inquired Laura, who was looking -out thoughtfully over the harbour. “Do -you mean any one who called this afternoon?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What nonsense you are talking, Laura! I -really believe you must be thinking of something, -or rather somebody, else. I wonder whom -it can be? Certainly you have received a good -deal of attention—‘marked attention,’ as Mrs. -Grandison always says. How cross Josie looked -when she said it! First of all Mr. Barrington -Hope, then Mr. M’Intosh, then Mr.—who was -that nice man from New Zealand?”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>“Really Linda, you are altogether too -ridiculous. Am I to be called to account about -every one of my partners? If so, you had -better get my ball programmes—I have kept -them all—and ask everybody’s intentions right -down the lists.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t mean partners, Laura; I had plenty -of them, I am thankful to say; but people -didn’t come every other day to the house—besides -waylaying one everywhere, and making a -fuss over father and poor dear mother. They -drew the line at that.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I feel more and more convinced, Linda, that -you have not quite finished packing,” remarked -Laura calmly. “The tea-bell will ring directly, -and we shall have no more time then. Do think -a little. I saw your cerise silk in our room, I -feel sure, just now.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, my lovely cerise silk! To think I -should have forgotten it!” said Linda, quite -diverted from her line of cross-questioning. -“But where will it go? I haven’t the faintest -notion. My trunk is full—more than full—and -pressed down. It wouldn’t hold another -handkerchief.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Be a good girl, and promise to talk sensibly, -and I may spare you a place in mine,” said -Laura, smiling at her victory. “I am just -going to fold and put away my last -dress.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You are always so kind, Laura. I did not -mean to tease you, but I really do feel anxious -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>about Mr. M’Intosh. Suppose he was only -amusing himself with you all the time!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Then you will be able to console yourself -with the idea that you have seen at least one -wicked person,” said Laura, with great good -humour; “and so your knowledge of the great -world will be expanded. But I will venture to -contradict the charge, as far as he is concerned. -But remember on what terms I provide a place -for your forlorn dress. Besides I want to write -one or two good-bye notes.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Although Laura was outwardly calm and -self-possessed, she was not wholly unmoved by -certain considerations which Linda’s badinage -had suggested.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Unless her perception played her false upon -a subject on which women, even when inexperienced, -commonly judge correctly, both Mr. -Barrington Hope and Mr. M’Intosh were -seriously interested in her good opinion of -them. The latter gentleman had indeed been -so persistent and pressing, that she had been -compelled with great gentleness, yet with -firmness, to discourage his advances. This step -she took with a certain reluctance—more -perhaps, because she had not finally resolved as -to her state of feeling than because she in any -way disliked him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Dislike him? No—who could, indeed, dislike -Donald M’Intosh? Was he not handsome, -accomplished, manly, possessed, moreover, of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>all the subtle graces of manner that almost -invariably attach themselves to a man, be he -good, bad, or indifferent as to morals or brains, -who has “seen the world,” as the phrase runs—who -has met his fellow-creatures all his life -under the highly-favoured circumstances of an -assured position and ample means?</p> - -<p class='c017'>He certainly had been most assiduous, most -respectful, most flatteringly <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>empresse</em></span> in his -manner, bestowing that unconcealed admiration -which gratifies the vanity of womanhood, at the -same time that it is apt to arouse the ire of the -virgins, both wise and foolish, who are less -prominently noticed.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Then his “position,” as it is called. He -possessed that social distinction, that untitled -rank, which is perhaps as clearly defined, as -freely yielded, or firmly refused, in a colony as -in England. He was a great country gentleman—such -a man as in Britain a hundred years ago -would have periodically gone up to London in -his family carriage attended by outriders and -driven by postillions. Here in the colonies -he was known as a man of good family, who -had inherited large estates, besides pastoral -possessions of even greater value, lands in city -and suburbs, houses in fashionable squares all -derived from well-considered investments in -those early days when every hundred pounds in -cash—sometimes even a tenth of that proverbial -sum—so invested bore fruit fiftyfold or a -thousandfold, as the case might be.</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>Then there was his magnificent place, -Glenduart, of which everybody had heard. -Such a drawing-room, such suites of apartments! -Gardens and stables, conservatories and fountains, -picture-gallery and statuary—what not! -Had he not entertained the Governor and Lady -Delmore there? Everybody said it was like a -nobleman’s house in England, or, at any rate, -one of those beautiful old country seats which -are the glory of the parent land. His horses, -too, his carriages—what a four-in-hand team -had he driven at the picnic they had all gone -to!</p> - -<p class='c017'>And all this at her feet! Was there a girl -in Sydney—as far as any one could judge—that -would not—she could not say “jump at,” even -in her thoughts—but willingly accept him?</p> - -<p class='c017'>What a chorus of congratulations or detractions, -both equally gratifying, would not the -announcement of her engagement arouse!</p> - -<p class='c017'>Thus far the world, the natural, impulsive -feeling of the human heart, unchecked by the -calm voice of reason, the warnings of the inner -soul.</p> - -<p class='c017'>On the other hand, was he so fitted in -character and mentally fashioned as to accord -with the tone of her mind, with the principles -in which from childhood she had been reared? -Did they agree in opinion on subjects which -were to her vitally important? Were their -tastes mainly in accord? and if differing, was -his disposition such as would lead her to suppose -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>that he would modify his predilections to -suit her wishes?</p> - -<p class='c017'>She could not say. She did not know. Her -ignorance of his character was complete. All -that she could possibly assure herself that she -knew concerning Donald M’Intosh was what the -world said of him, and no more—that he was -brave, generous, courteous, and rich. So much -she admitted. But her experience had been -merely of the outer husk of his nature. The -varnish with which the natural man is concealed -from his fellows was flawless and brilliant. All -might be in accordance with the fair-seeming, -attractive exterior. On the other hand, much -might be hidden beneath, the revelation of -which would constitute the difference to Laura -Stamford between joy and peace, hope and happiness -upon earth, or misery complete and unending, -hopeless despair.</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was a terrible risk to run, an uncertainty -altogether too momentous to encounter -at present. Dismissing the subject -of Mr. M’Intosh’s interests and prospects, -there was—and she blushed even when naming -his name in her own heart—there was Barrington -Hope. He had little to offer in any way -comparable to the other in what most people -would consider the essentials of matrimonial -success. A hard-worked man compelled to tax -his every mental faculty to the uttermost, in -order to meet the demands of his occupation. -From one point of view, no doubt, his position -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>was high; no man of his age had, perhaps, the -same rank and consideration in finance. But -the magnificence of “seigneury” was not his—never -probably would be. In spite of his birth, -which was equal to that of any magnate of the -land, no girl of the period, no matron who knew -the world, would think for a moment of comparing -the social status of the two men.</p> - -<p class='c017'>But in his favour there were arguments of -weight. She knew him to be a man of refined -tastes, of literary culture, of high moral -principle, of fastidious delicacy of tone and taste. -It may be that Laura Stamford only thought she -knew these things, that she committed the -feminine mistake of taking for granted that the -hero of her girlish romance was perfection. It -may be confessed here that Barrington Hope -was the first man who had had power to stir -those mysterious passion-currents which sleep -so calmly in the heart of youth, puissant as they -are when fully aroused to hurry the possessor to -destruction or despair. But she was, for her -age, a calm observer, having, moreover, a full -measure of the sex’s intuitive discernment. In -all their light or serious conversation, she had -marked in the mind of Barrington Hope the -signs of high and lofty purpose, of a chivalrous -nature, an inborn generosity only controlled by -the voice of conscience and the dictates of an -enforced prudence.</p> - -<p class='c017'>And did he love her as in her heart she told -herself she deserved to be loved?</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>Of that all-important fact she could not yet -assure herself. But, patient ever, and modestly -doubtful of all things which concerned her -personal influence, Laura decided that she could -well afford to await the direction of circumstances. -Her home duties were still paramount in her -steadfast mind. She had no immediate wish -that they should be cast aside for objects purely -personal. There was yet much to do at -Windāhgil. Linda was scarcely capable of -assuming the responsibilities of housekeeping, -and should she make default, she knew upon -whose shoulders the burden would fall. The -younger brothers and Hubert, who had hardly -been separated from her thoughts for an hour -since childhood—all the love and gentle tendence -due to them were not to be uprooted and flung -away to wither like weeds out of the garden -path. No! The time might come when she, -Laura Stamford, like other girls, would go forth -from her father’s house, bidding farewell to the -loved ones of her youth—of her life—part of -her very soul, as they were; but there was no -necessity for haste. She must take time for -careful choice—for sober counsel. She had -never been wont to do anything of importance -hastily. She would not furnish so bad a precedent -now.</p> - -<p class='c017'>So in spite of Linda’s desponding protestations -that they never would be actually, -completely, and finally packed up, the fated -evening came which witnessed a devoted cab, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>overladen with such an array of luggage as -caused Mr. Stamford to exclaim and the hall-porter -to smile.</p> - -<p class='c017'>On the preceding Sunday every one had gone -dutifully to church, but in the afternoon Linda’s -devotional feelings must have been somewhat -intermixed with ideas of a nautical nature, -judging from audible scraps of conversation, as -carried on by Lieutenant Fitzurse, R.N., and -his comrades, who had thought it only decent -and fitting, as they observed, to make their -adieux to Miss Linda Stamford before she went -back to Western Australia or Riverina, or -whatever far-away place “in the bush,” they -had heard she was bound for.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Hope did not arrive on that afternoon, -although Mr. M’Intosh did, but, having something -to say to Mr. Stamford, presumably on -business, he came in time to accompany them to -the railway station, and to receive a warm -invitation from that gentleman to visit them at -Windāhgil directly he could get leave of absence.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Linda began to look out of the window at -least two miles from the Mooramah railway -station. A few seconds before the train stopped, -she discovered Hubert on the platform.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Waving his hand to her, he was at the window -in a moment, receiving, indeed, personal tokens -of welcome long before the guard could open -the door and collect the tickets.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! I <em>am</em> so glad to see you again, -dearest, dearest Hubert,” exclaimed Linda. -“You have no idea how nice and large -Mooramah looks. I am sure I shall never -stir away from dear old Windāhgil for a year. -I don’t feel proud at all, do you, Laura? I -am sure we are both immensely improved, -though. Don’t you think so, Hubert?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You must wait till you are at home again, -and I can turn you round and examine you -both carefully,” said Hubert; “there are too -many people here at present. I think mother -looks splendid, and the governor gets younger -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>every time he sees Sydney. I shall have to go -soon, or our ages will be reversed.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Poor, dear old Hubert!” said Laura, looking -at her brother’s sun-burnt face, and spare, -muscular figure; “I’m sure you’ve been working -yourself to death while we were away, with -nobody to stop you. Never mind, we’ll soon -make a difference—if we don’t talk you to -death the first week.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I can hear all you’ve got to say,” said Hubert; -“but just now let us get the luggage counted -and ready for Jerry to put in the spring cart; -then we’ll rattle home in the buggy. Don’t -the old horses look well?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Splendid!” said Linda. “They have -beautiful coats too, which I did not expect. -They’re not quite so aristocratic in demeanour -as Mr. Grandison’s carriage horses, but they can -trot about double as fast, I daresay.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They look very different to what they did -this time last year,” said Hubert, running his -eye over the middle-sized, well-bred, wiry pair. -“Do you remember poor old Whalebone tumbling -down—Whipcord was nearly as bad—as -we were driving to church, from sheer weakness?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! yes,” said Linda; “we had to tie up -the pole of the buggy with our pocket-handkerchiefs; -poor old dear! He looks as if he could -pull one’s arms off now.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Once fairly off behind the fourteen-mile-an-hour -buggy horses, spinning along the smooth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>bush road—the best wheel track in the world in -good weather and in a dry country, that is, its -normal state—the spirits of the party rose -several degrees. Mr. Stamford and his wife -were calmly happy at the idea of returning to -their quiet home life, having had enough of the -excitement of city and suburb for a while. The -girls were continually exclaiming, as each new -turn of the road brought them within sight of -well-remembered spots and familiar points of -the landscape, while Hubert, much too happy -to talk, kept looking at his relatives, one by -one, with an air of intense, overflowing affection.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s worth all the loneliness to have you -back again,” he said, patting his mother’s cheek; -“but it was horribly dismal for a time. I felt -as if I could have left the run in charge of the -boundary-riders, only for shame, and run down -to Sydney myself. Fortunately, Laura wrote so -regularly that I seemed to know what you were -doing and saving, as well as almost everything -you thought.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I wrote too, I’m sure,” said Linda, with an -injured air.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, you were more spasmodic. Though -I was very glad to get your letters too. I -acquired a deal of information about the -‘Queen’s Navee,’ in which department I was -weak. However, I suppose it’s as well to know -everything.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’m sure you are most ungrateful,” pouted -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>Linda, “If you only knew how hard it is to -write!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, ho! quoting from Lord Sandwich’s -lines:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c021'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>‘To all you ladies now on land</div> - <div class='line in2'>We men at sea indite,</div> - <div class='line'>But first I’d have you understand</div> - <div class='line in2'>How hard it is to write.’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'>“You are too clever altogether, Hubert,” -said Linda, with rather a conscious laugh. -“You must have been taking lessons in mind-reading, -or some such stuff, in our absence. -But oh! there are some of the Windāhgil -sheep. How well they look! I’d almost forgotten -there were such dear creatures in the -world.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If it were not for them and their fleeces -there would not be any trips to Sydney, or -bachelors’ balls, or picnics,” said Mr. Stamford; -“so keep up a proper respect for the merino -interest, and all belonging to it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They never looked better than they do -now,” said Hubert; “the season has been a -trifle dry since you left, but I think they are -all the better for it. And did not the wool -bring a capital price?” he continued. “I see -you sold it all in Sydney—two and a penny, -and two and threepence for the hogget bales. -The wash-pen was paid for over and over again. -However, I have a plan in my head for getting -it up better still next year.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That’s right, my boy,” said his father; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>“stick well to your business and it will stick to -you—a homely proverb, but full of wisdom. -How does the garden look?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not so bad. I had it made pretty decent -for mother to look at. I kept all the new -plants watered—they’ve grown splendidly, and -I managed, with a little help, to get up a -‘bush house’ in case mother brought up any -new ferns, or <em>Coleus</em> novelties.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The very thing I am wishing for, my dear -boy,” said his mother. “I was just wondering -how I could manage; I did get a few pot plants -and ferns.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“A few!” said Mr. Stamford, making believe -to frown. “You showed a correct estimate -of your mother’s probable weakness, however, -Hubert. I don’t know that you could have -spent your leisure time more profitably.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Home, sweet home!” sang Linda, as they -drove up to the well-known white gate. “How -lovely the garden looks, and everything about -the dear old place is flourishing; even the -turkeys have grown up since we left. I feel -as if I could go round and kiss everything—the -very posts of the verandah. That is the -advantage of going away. I really think it -is one’s duty to do so; it makes you value your -home so when you come back.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall have no curiosity about the great -world for a year at least,” said Laura. “It -will take us nearly that time to read all the new -books; and to properly enjoy the garden, I am -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>going to have a fernery of my own. I bought -the <cite>Fern World</cite> out of my own money, and -somebody—I forget who it was—promised to -send me some rare New Zealand and South -Sea Island ferns. After all, the pleasures of -country life are the best, I really do believe; -they are so calm and peaceful and yet satisfying.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>That first meal, lunch or dinner, as it might -happen to be, in the old familiar room, was an -unmixed delight to all. The two servants, -having just returned, had exerted themselves -to prepare a somewhat <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>recherché</em></span> repast for the -family, to whom they were attached, and whose -return they hailed with honest expressions -of welcome. The cookery and arrangements -generally met with special commendation, while -in the intervals of talking, laughing, and sudden -exclamations of delight, Linda repeated her conviction -that she had never enjoyed eating and -drinking so much since she left Windāhgil.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Immediately after this necessary performance, -Hubert and Mr. Stamford betook themselves -to one of the outlying portions of the run, -where the son was anxious for his father to -behold the success of a new dam lately constructed. -This piece of engineering had “thrown -back” the water of a creek nearly two miles, -thus affording permanent sustenance for a large -flock of sheep.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“These weaners were formerly obliged to -come in to the frontage, you remember governor, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>where they were always mixing with the other -sheep. The water dried up regularly about -this time. Now they can stay here till next -shearing, and I think the country suits them -better, too.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They are looking uncommonly well,” said -Mr. Stamford, running his eye over a flock of -fine, well-grown young sheep, which were just -moving out to grass after their noonday rest. -“They ought to cut a first-rate fleece this -year.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes; and the wool is so clean,” said -Hubert. “There is nothing like having your -sheep within fences; no running about with -dogs and shepherds; they don’t get half the -dust and sand into their fleeces. But I’m afraid -this is about the last improvement Windāhgil -wants doing to it. It’s getting too settled and -finished. How I should like to tackle a big, -wild, half-stocked run in new country, with -no fencing done, and all the water to make!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You must bide your time, my boy,” said -Mr. Stamford, with a serious face. “It will -come some day—in another year or two, perhaps. -You mustn’t be in too great a hurry -to leave us all. Windāhgil is not such a bad -place.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“On the contrary, it’s getting too good -altogether. There’s only half enough work, -and next to no management required. Why, -you could do all the work yourself, governor, -with a steady working overseer!”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>“Thank you, my boy, for the compliment,” -said Mr. Stamford, taking off his hat.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, you know what I mean, father! so -don’t pretend you don’t. I’m not growing -cheeky because things have gone well lately; -but really there’s only enough managing to -keep you in exercise. It will half break my -heart to go away, but what’s the use of settling -down on a small comfortable place like this? -And how can I feel that I’m doing the best -for the family, when I hear of fellows like -Persse, and Grantley, and Philipson taking up -that new country beyond the Barcoo by the -thousand square miles; splendid downs covered -with blue grass and Mitchell grass? Grand -water, too, when you come upon it. Think -what all that country will be worth in a few -years.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I understand you, my boy,” said the proud -father, while a sudden emotion stirred his heart, -as he remembered the days of his own youth, -when he too had nourished the same high -thoughts of adventure and discovery, and had -played his part amid the dangers and privations -of frontier life. “You can talk it over with -Mr. Hope. We’ll see what can be done.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I suppose,” said Hubert, after a while, -“when you’ve been up a week or ten days, -and I’ve talked over everything with mother -and the girls, from the regatta to the last new -waltz step, I may as well take my holiday. I -haven’t had one for three years. I begin to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>forget what the sea looks like, and I think -a month in the ‘big smoke’ and a few new -ideas will do me no harm.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Have your holiday, by all means, and enjoy -it too, my boy. Thank God, it is not a -question of money now. I have the fullest -belief in the sanitary value, mentally, of a trip -to the metropolis now and then.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Thank you, father. I’m sure it will -brush me up a little; besides, I want to go -to the Lands Office for certain reasons. I want, -above all, to have a good talk with this Mr. -Barrington Hope that I’ve heard so much -about.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You’ll find him an uncommon sort of -person. The more you see of him, the more -you’ll like him, I feel certain. He is just the -man I should like you to make a friend of. -Try and get him to return with you, if he can -spare the time.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>After the tea-things were cleared away, and -the large, steadfast, satisfactory table was left -free for reading, writing, or needlework—for -all of which purposes it was equally well -adapted—what a season of rational enjoyment -set in! The book box had been opened before. -The beautiful new uncut volumes, the titles of -which were received with exclamations of joy, -were placed upon a table. The collection of -new music was inspected, Linda going there and -then to the piano and dashing off a waltz; -making, besides, a running commentary upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>half-a-dozen songs which she and Laura were -going to learn directly there was a minute to -spare. Mr. Stamford took his accustomed chair, -and devoted himself to the <cite>Sydney Morning -Herald</cite>. Mrs. Stamford resumed the needlework -which is apparently a species of Penelope’s -web for all mothers of families, while Hubert -and Laura, somewhat apart from the rest, kneeling -on their chairs as if they had been children -again, made a cursory examination of the new -books, exclaiming from time to time at passages -or illustrations.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I feel inclined not to go to Sydney till after -I’ve read most of these books,” said Hubert; -“only that would make it so late. But it seems -a pity to leave such a lot of splendid reading. -Certainly there’s the Public Library in Sydney, -but I hardly ever go in there, because I find it -so hard to get out again. I did stay there once -till the lamps were lit. I had gone in for a few -minutes after breakfast.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a queer idea!” said Laura, laughing -outright. “How strange it must have felt to -have lost a whole day in Sydney. Never mind, -Hubert! There are a good many young men -to whom it would not occur to spend a whole -day in a library, public or private. Everything -in moderation, though. You must have another -station at your back before you can read all day -long.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Please God, we’ll have that too,” replied -he with a cheery smile, “or else the new country -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>will be taken up very fast. I don’t think Windāhgil -will see me after next shearing; that is -if the governor doesn’t forbid it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You don’t care about breaking our hearts, -you naughty boy!” said his sister, pressing her -cheek against his, as they looked over the same -book. “What are we all to do when you are -gone! You don’t think how lonely and miserable -the place will be.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Are you going to stay here all your life, -Laura? If you will, I will. But don’t think -I shall not feel the parting bitterly; I quite -tremble to think of it. How miserable I was -when you were in Sydney! But what is a man -to do? A few years of self-denial and hard life -now will make things easy for the rest of our -days. I am the working head of the family -now. Father is not the man he used to be. -And if I take life too easily for the next few -years, all these great opportunities will be gone, -and we shall regret it all the rest of our lives.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But the risk!” sighed Laura; “the wild -country, blacks, thirst, fever and ague. Every -paper brings news of some poor fellow losing -his life out there. What should we do if -you were taken? Remember how many lives -you carry about with you.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You set a great value on Hubert Stamford,” -he said jokingly, while something in his eyes -showed a deeper feeling. “Other people -wouldn’t think any great loss had taken place -if I dropped. But men still go to sea, though -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>wrecks occur. Think how nice it will be when -I return bronzed, and illustrious, a gallant explorer -with a whole country-side taken up for -‘Stamford and Son,’ with runs to keep and to -sell, and to give away if we like.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’m afraid you won’t be stopped; you are -an obstinate boy, though no one would think it. -I think I shall take possession of the piano and -sing you that lovely ‘Volkslied,’ though I’m -afraid my voice is weak after the night journey.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Laura had taken a few lessons in Sydney, very -wisely. Her naturally sweet, pure voice and -correct intonation were therefore much aided by -her later instruction.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You <em>have</em> improved,” said her brother. “I -never expected you to turn out such a <span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><em>prima -donna</em></span>, though there is a tone in your voice that -always makes me wish to cry, as if that would be -the height of enjoyment. You brought up a -duet for me, didn’t you? Well, we won’t try it -to-night. You’re rather tired, I can see. We’ll -attack it some morning after breakfast, when -we’re fresh.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>From this day forward, life flowed on with -uninterrupted felicity for the Windāhgil household. -It was nearly a week before the excitement -passed away of enjoying all the treasures -and novelties brought from the metropolis. -The weather even became favourable to the new -development of the garden, in which Mr. -Stamford and his wife were principally interested. -Genial showers refreshed the soil—always -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>inclined to be thirsty in that region—so -that Mrs. Stamford’s ferns and flowers, and -plants with parti-coloured leaves, as well as her -husband’s new varieties of vegetables, shrubs, -and fruit trees, all partook of the beneficence of -the season.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As for Hubert and his sisters, they rode and -drove about by day whenever the weather was -favourable; indeed sometimes when it was not. -They read steadily at the new books by night, -and by that means, and a few visits to old -friends in the neighbourhood, filled up every -spare moment in a mode of life each day of -which was consciously and unaffectedly happy.</p> - -<p class='c017'>In addition to these quasi-pastoral occupations, -one day brought the exciting news that a new -proprietor—indeed a new family—was about to -arrive in the district—now the owner of a -sheep station distant from Windāhgil about -twenty miles had for some months, indeed since -the change of season, cherished hopes of selling -out to advantage.</p> - -<p class='c017'>An astute, unscrupulous speculator, he had -purchased sheep largely, at low prices, directly -the weather broke, had crowded on to Wantabalree -all the stock it could hold—and more, -had sent the rest of his cheap purchase “on the -road.” This means, in Australia, travelling for -grass to a distant undefined point in a neighbouring -colony whence at any time they could be -ordered back; subsisting at free quarters, on -other men’s pastures till shearing.</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>He then offered Wantabalree for sale, at the -high market price of the day, describing it as a -magnificent pastoral property with a stock of -sheep of the highest quality and breeding; -puffed up the grass, the improvements, the -homestead, the water supply, directly and indirectly, -and having done all this, awaited quietly -the usual victim provided with cash and deficient -in experience.</p> - -<p class='c017'>In Australia, as in other countries probably, it -is a fact patent to observers of human nature -that the weak points of any particular locality -are rarely obtruded upon the incoming proprietor -or tenant. He is, in a general way, -prone to spend money on a liberal scale for the -first two or three years.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The interests of other proprietors are, in a -way, identical. Assuming that the newly-arrived -purchaser has made an indifferent bargain—that -is, has misunderstood wholly the value -of his investment, or bought in total ignorance -of the peculiar drawbacks of the district, it -is rarely that any one volunteers to enlighten -him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Such information, if unfavourable, might -tend to depreciate the value of property locally. -It was none of their business. Every one had -enough to do to look after their own affairs. -They might want to sell out themselves some -day.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Besides, after all, the seasons might prove -wet for years to come, in which case a tide of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>general prosperity would set in, quite sufficient -to float Colonel Dacre’s as well as the other -partially stranded argosies of the period.</p> - -<p class='c017'>This was the mode of reasoning which mostly -obtained around Mooramah—possibly not -wholly unknown in other centres more or less -connected with financial operations.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Even an experienced Australian pastoralist -may be placed at considerable disadvantage -when he comes to inspect station property in -a region previously unknown to him. He may -under-rate or over-estimate the changes in -pasture produced in varying seasons. He may -be wholly ignorant of probable or latent disease. -Summer’s heat or winter’s cold may surprise -him by their diverse results. Such men may -make—have indeed made—the most astonishing -mistakes in purchasing stations in unfamiliar -country. How much more so the wholly inexperienced, -newly-arrived buyer from Europe, -or Hindustan—ignorant of the very alphabet -of pastoral science! He is indeed delivered -over as a prey. The net is, in a manner, spread -for him. Unless he be clearly warned, and -indeed vigorously frightened away from this all-tempting -enclosure, he is very apt to be enmeshed. -After his entanglement—from which -except by the blindest chance he rarely emerges -save with despoiled plumage and drooping -crest—he can hear from his too reticent neighbours -doleful tales of loss and distress, a portion -of which information would have been sufficient -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>to deter him from (as he now believes) so -suicidal an investment.</p> - -<p class='c017'>To do the Stamfords justice, they were not -the sort of people likely to stand by and see an -injustice perpetrated without protest. Colonel -Dacre, on arriving in the district, had called at -Windāhgil, and informing Mr. Stamford that -he felt disposed to buy Wantabalree, which was -then offered for sale with so many sheep, so -much purchased land, &c., had asked his opinion -of the policy of the purchase.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert and his father looked at one another -for a moment. Then the younger man burst out—“I -think it’s a confounded shame that any -gentleman coming to a fresh district should be -taken in, utterly deceived in a purchase like this -one of Wantabalree. It is known to every -child within fifty miles that the place is over-stocked -by nearly one-half. The reason the -run looks so well is that a lot of sheep that -were travelling have just been put on. They -haven’t had time to eat down the grass yet. If -a dry season comes they’ll die like flies.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You must be careful in making statements -to Mr. Dealerson’s prejudice,” said his father. -“We are not on good terms with him. That -should be, perhaps, considered by Colonel Dacre. -At the same time, I endorse every word you -have said.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I know I hate the fellow like poison,” said -Hubert. “He’s mean and dishonest—and deserves -to be had up for false representation to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>boot; but I would say the same if he were my -own brother. The sale of Wantabalree with -the stock at present on it, under the advertisement -of a fairly-stocked run, is a deception and -a robbery. I give Colonel Dacre leave to repeat -my words to Mr. Dealerson or his friends.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I gather from what you say,” said the -Colonel; “that the stock upon Wantabalree -is in excess of what it would be safe to depasture -in ordinary seasons; that the buyer would -probably, in the event of an unfavourable season, -be at a disadvantage—--”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Such a disadvantage that he would lose -twenty or thirty thousand sheep to begin with,” -replied Hubert; “and even under the most -favourable circumstances the place could never -carry its present stock.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yet the sheep look very well—are indeed -fit for market—as I am informed by the person -the agents recommended me to consult.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“This is the finest season we have had for -five years. It is the best time of year also,” -said Hubert. “Any run about here would carry -double its ordinary stock for a few months—till -winter, for instance. If a third more sheep were -put on now, say on to this run, neither sheep -nor run would exhibit much difference until -the autumn was well over.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And what would happen then?” asked the -Colonel.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Then they would merely begin to starve—become -weak and die—thousand after thousand, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>while all the survivors would be impoverished -and lessened in value.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Good Heavens!” said the astonished -soldier. “I never imagined such deceit could -be practised in a pastoral community. It -amounts to obtaining money under false pretences!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not legally,” said Mr. Stamford; “but every -word which my son has told you is substantially -true. Wantabalree with its present stock is -nothing better than a trap skilfully set to catch -the unwary purchaser. Mr. Dealerson is, so to -speak, an enemy of ours, but I will do Hubert -the justice to say that a friend acting similarly -would have fared no better at his hands.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well! forewarned is forearmed,” said the -colonel. “I feel deeply indebted to you, but -your conduct has been in marked contrast to -that of all the other residents to whom I have -spoken on the subject.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Unfortunately, there is too much caution or -apathy in matters of this sort,” said Mr. -Stamford. “We should have been delighted to -have you as a neighbour, believe me, but not at -such cost to yourself.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>About a week after this conversation Hubert -dropped the local paper he was reading in the -evening with such a sudden exclamation that his -mother and sisters looked up in mild astonishment.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“‘Well I’m gormed!’ as Dan Peggotty has -it!” he said at length. “Nothing will ever -surprise me again as long as there is such a crop -of fools in the world—no wonder that rogues -like Dealerson flourish! After all I said too! -Listen to this! headed ‘Important Sale of -Station.—We have much pleasure in noticing -that our energetic and popular neighbour, Mr. -Dealerson, has completed the sale of his well-known -station, Wantabalree, with fifty-four -thousand six hundred sheep of a superior character, -to Colonel Dacre, a gentleman lately arrived -from England. Furniture, stores, station, horses -and cattle given in. The price is said to be -satisfactory.’ Well, the devil helps some -people,” said Hubert. “How that poor gentleman -could have run into the snare blindfold -after the talking to father and I gave him, I -can’t make out. Mark my words; he’s a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>dead man (financially) unless it’s going to rain -for years.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Dealerson is a very astute man,” remarked -Mr. Stamford, musingly. “As a persuasive talker -he has few equals. Fine, frank, engaging manner -too. Bold and ready-witted; I think I can -see how he managed it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well I can’t see—can’t make it out at all,” -said Hubert, “unless he is a mesmerist.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No doubt he made the most of being -on bad terms with Windāhgil. He would -rake up that old story of the disputed sheep; -tell it his own way; get that fellow Ospreigh, -who always goes about with him, to back him -up; also make small concessions such as furniture -and working plant; talk about the house -and garden—they would be attractive to a new -arrival; and if Colonel Dacre is at all impulsive—and -I think he is—he has thus landed him. -I wonder what the Colonel will think of -Dealerson about three years from this time?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’ll tell him what <em>I</em> think of him, the next -time we meet in public,” said Hubert, squaring -his shoulders, while a dangerous light came into -his eyes. “If he could be tempted into giving -me the lie, I should like to have the pleasure of -thrashing him.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Gently, my boy!” said Mr. Stamford; “we -must not set up ourselves as the redressers of -wrongs for Lower Mooramah, Few people are -in a position to discharge the duties of that -appointment. I honour your righteous indignation -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>all the same, and trust you will always -retain an honest scorn of wrong and wrongdoers.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I should hope so,” said Laura. “I can’t -imagine Hubert holding his tongue discreetly or -passing by on the other side. There are a -good many Levites in this part of the world, -I am afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, my gracious!” said Linda, who was -reading a closely-written letter; “think of this! -Isn’t his name Colonel John Dacre, late of the -75th Regiment? There is one redeeming -feature about the affair, at all events.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What can that be?” said Laura and -Hubert both together.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Why! there’s a distressed damsel in the -case. If I didn’t know better, I should think -Hubert must have heard about her. Listen to -this!” And she read aloud:—“‘I hear that -you are to have delightful neighbours. I was -told that Colonel Dacre was going to settle in -your neighbourhood. He has bought Wantabalree -station—young Groves told me last -night. He is a widower, handsome and middle-aged. -But I don’t mean him. He has an only -daughter, also a son. Think of that! Jane -Robinson met her at Mrs. Preston’s, where she -is staying. She says she is most sweet—handsome, -though not objectionable in the beauty-girl -line, clever, sensible, distinguished-looking, -&c. Take care of Hubert, if you don’t want -to lose him for good and all.’ That’s from -Nellie Conway. Oh! isn’t that lovely?” and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>here Linda held the letter aloft, and danced for -joy.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t see what difference it makes,” said -Hubert, gloomily, “except that there are three -people to be ruined instead of one. You girls -are always thinking of marriage and giving in -marriage.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Now don’t be provoking, Hubert,” said -Laura, coaxingly; “we know somebody who is -not always thinking about cattle and sheep. -Now, listen to me. How long will it take for -Mr. Dealerson to ruin them?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“About three years,” said Hubert; “depends -on the terms. Of course he’s got all the -Colonel’s cash, but he would take long-dated -bills rather than let him slip. Say three—three -and a half—that’s the very outside month.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That means that we are to have the society -and companionship of the very nice girl for -three or four years,” said Laura; “we can ask -her here for the last six months, you know, -I really think, Hubert, it won’t turn out such a -bad investment for the Colonel after all.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You’d better marry him out of pity,” said -Hubert; “get father to endorse his bills, and -that will effectually finish up the Stamford -family as well—stock, lock, and barrel.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’ll complete the tragedy by marrying Mr. -Dealerson,” said Linda, “whom I shall afterwards -poison, then come on to the stage and -repent in white satin in my last agonies, having -by mistake taken some out of the same glass. -What a charming melodrama! Who says -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>there are no Australian romances possible in -real life?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No; but nonsense apart,” said Laura, “I -intend to make a friend of Miss Dacre; she -will be rather lonely. There are no decent -people within twenty miles of Wantabalree. -You must drive us over to call directly we -hear that they have arrived at the station. -It is a pleasant house, and the garden is lovely, -to give Mr. Dealerson his due.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You girls generally manage to persuade -everybody to do as you like,” said Hubert, -making believe to be sulky still, but putting his -arm round Laura’s waist. “It’s a pity you didn’t -tackle the Colonel about not buying the beastly -place, instead of father and me. He’d have -dropped it like a shot most likely.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Don’t you worry yourself any more about -it,” said Linda. “You have been ‘faithful’ -to the Colonel—as Mrs. Christianson always -says—and done the honest and disagreeable. -Now let it rest.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You’re bordering on a Levite,” retorted -her brother. “However, it was always the -fashionable side.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>About a fortnight after the return of the -family party, when most of the books had -been read, when all the songs had been sung, -when every conceivable incident that had happened -in Sydney had been described and dilated -on, after every new phase of intellectual growth -in the three young minds had been stated and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>reviewed, Hubert Stamford relinquished his -charge of Windāhgil, and departed for the -metropolis on his long-expected holiday. Not -without tears shed by his female relatives did -he leave Windāhgil, that true and sacred home -in every sense of the word—a family abiding -place consecrated by fervent, unselfish love, -which had grown and deepened since childhood’s -hour with every opening year. How could -they think without a sudden pang of the -possibility of an accident—of one of the everyday -mischances in this age of rushing, resistless -forces harnessed to the car of man’s feverish -need—depriving them for ever of the sight of -that pleasant face, those frank, kind eyes, that -manly form! Such might happen—<em>had</em> happened. -Therefore, there were averted heads, -fast falling tears, as the signal sounded, and -the punctual, pitiless steam-giant bore away -the hope of Windāhgil from the little platform -at Mooramah.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Poor, dear Hubert!” said Linda, sneezing -violently, and then wiping her eyes; “it seems -ridiculous to cry, when he’s going away to enjoy -himself so much, and deserves it so well; but, -somehow, one can’t help it. There is a great -relief in tears. I think they are specially adapted -to the feminine temperament, a nice, comforting -sort of protest against circumstances. Dear me! -how lonely we shall be to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I really believe father was afraid he would -‘give way’ too, as Nurse Allen used to say,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>said Laura, “and that was the reason he declined -to come. Never mind; we shall have -a telegram to-morrow. He must have been -much more lonely when we departed. Fancy -you or me at home, Linda, and all the rest of -the family away!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>When Hubert Stamford had got over the -first feeling of parting with those whom he -loved better than his own life, the change of -place and scene which the fast-speeding mail -train rapidly furnished commenced to raise his -youthful spirits. After all, <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>ce n’est que le -premier pas qui coûte</em></span>. Ah, but that first step! -Some people never can accomplish it, for things -good as well as evil, and a whole world of -delights and dangers remain unexplored.</p> - -<p class='c017'>In Hubert Stamford’s case the initiatory stage -was now accomplished. The journey, more -or less eventful to home-keeping youths—the -first really accredited visit to the metropolis -since his manhood, with all things made easy -for him, was now about to take place. Imagination -commenced to conjure up the various -wonders and witcheries which he was about to -encounter, as well as the campaign of business -which he hoped to plan out and engineer definitely, -if not finally.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Much revolving these pleasing and, in a -sense, profitable thoughts, the night became -reasonably far advanced. It then occurred to -him that, as he intended to have a long day -before him in Sydney, he might as well prepare -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>for it by an orthodox allowance of sleep; so, -commending himself and those never-forgotten -idols of his heart to the mercy of the All-wise, -All-seeing Father of this wondrous world, -he wrapped himself in his rug and fell asleep.</p> - -<p class='c017'>When he awoke the train was speeding down -the long incline which divides the mountain -world of rock and dell-rifted peak and alpine -summit, from the lowlands of the Nepean River. -A few more miles—another hour. Farms and -home-steadings, orangeries and orchards, vineyards -and cornfields, alternated with wide -pastures, dank with river fogs and morning dew, -darksome jungles of eucalyptus which the axe -of the woodman had as yet spared. Yet another -terminus, suburbs, smoke, a distant view of the -great sea, a turmoil of railway sheds, carriages, -tramcars, and cabs—Sydney!</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Comfortably established at Batty’s Hotel, to -the management of which he had taken the -trouble to telegraph for a room, and received -with that pleasing welcome accorded to the -guest who is known to spend liberally and pay -promptly, Hubert found the situation, as he -surveyed the harbour from the balcony with -after-breakfast feelings, to be one of measureless -content mingled with sanguine anticipation.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Oh! precious spring-time of life! Blest -reflex of the golden days of Arcady. What -might we not have done with thy celestial -hours, strewn with diamonds and rubies more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>precious than the fabled valley of the Arabian -voyager, had we but have divined their value. -For how much is it now too late? The scythe-bearer, -slow, passionless, pitiless, has passed on. -The irrevocable winged hours have fled. Opportunity, -fleet nymph with haunting eyes and -shining hair, has disappeared in the recesses of -the charmed forest, and we, gazing hopelessly -on the shore of life’s ocean, hear from afar the -hollow murmur of the maelstrom of Fate—the -rhythmic cadence of the tideless waves of eternity.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert Stamford, more fortunate, had all the -world before him; moreover, nothing to do but -elect, with the aid of a sufficiency of cash, leisure -and introductions, to what particular pleasures -he should devote the cheerful day. He revolved -in his mind several kinds of entertainments of -which he would like to partake, but finally resolved -to present himself at the office of the -Austral Agency Company, having a great desire -to see the wonderful Barrington Hope, of whom -he had heard so much, as also to sound him as -to a Queensland stock speculation. He would -leave a card for Mr. Grandison at his club. If -no engagement turned up he would take a -steamer to Manly Beach, and afterwards go -to the theatre.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Having mapped out the day to his satisfaction, -Hubert betook himself to the Austral -Agency Company’s offices, by the splendour of -which he was much struck, and sent in his card.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He was not suffered to remain long in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>outer office, but was promptly ushered into the -manager’s room and confronted with the head -of the department in person. Doubtless it was -a mutual pleasure. Hubert was impressed with -the autocrat’s appearance, the manner, as well as -the reserve of power which in every word and -gesture Barrington Hope displayed. The latter, -on the other hand, did full justice to the bold, -sincere countenance, the manly, muscular figure -of his young visitor. Reading between the lines, -he saw there written quenchless energy and love -of adventure, yet shrewd forecast.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“This youngster is not like other men,” Mr. -Hope said to himself, after the first direct, -searching gaze. “He only wants opportunity, -encouragement, and the backing-up of -capital to become a successful speculator. He -has enterprise, undying pluck, persistent energy, -and still sufficient apprehensiveness to shield him -from disaster. We must send him along. He -will do well for himself and the company. His -complexion and features are different—but how -like he is to his sister!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Much of this he may have thought, but -merely said, “Mr. Hubert Stamford, I am sincerely -glad to make your acquaintance. Having -had the pleasure of knowing your family, I was -really anxious to meet you. I venture to predict -that we shall become friends and allies. I -trust you left all well at Windāhgil, and that -the season continues favourable.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Perfectly well, thank you,” said Hubert. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>“My father desired to be particularly remembered -to you. My sisters have not yet left off -describing their pleasant visit to Sydney. The -season is a trifle dry, but otherwise everything -that can be desired.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Thanks very much! Tell your sisters when -you write that a great melancholy fell upon me -when they left. We had been so much together -in town, fortunately for me.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have been waiting for an opportunity to -thank you for the assistance you gave us at a -very critical time,” said Hubert. “My father -has, I daresay, told you all we thought about it. -But I always determined to speak for myself on -the subject.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It was a speculation, a purely business risk, -which I undertook,” replied Mr. Hope. “I -told your father so at the time. That it has -resulted so favourably, is of course, most satisfactory.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I see your point. All the same, it was -more than fortunate for us, and for Windāhgil, -that you happened to take that precise commercial -risk at that particular time. It is, -besides, more agreeable to work financially with -some people than others. And now, will you -come and lunch with me, so that we may have a -talk?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am really sorry,” said Mr. Hope, looking -at his watch, “but shall not have five minutes -to spare till five o’clock, when I should like to -consult you on a business matter. If, afterwards, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>you will dine with me at the club, at seven -sharp, I will talk as much as you like.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That will do as well, indeed better,” said -Hubert, “as the day will be over, which is a -great advantage if one is to enjoy oneself. I -have a call or two to make, so adieu for the -present!” Making a direct point for the club -which Mr. Grandison ornamented, Hubert was -fortunate in discovering that gentleman just -emerging from the strangers’ room with an -elderly gentleman, whom Hubert recognised as -Colonel Dacre.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How are you, Hubert, my boy?” said -Grandison. “What a man you’ve grown! -Nothing like bush air. Father quite well? -Mother and the girls? Glad to hear it. Let -me introduce you to Colonel Dacre, soon to be -a neighbour of yours at Wantabalree.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’m very sorry for it,” blurted out Hubert. -“That is, in one sense, as I told Colonel Dacre -before. I said then, and think now, that he -made a bad bargain. That apart, I am, of -course, delighted to hear that he is coming with -his family to live so near us.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! indeed; I didn’t know you had met -before.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The Colonel bowed, and looking slightly -embarrassed, for a veteran, before so youthful a -soldier as Hubert, said, “I ought to thank Mr. -Stamford and his father for their sincere and -kindly advice about my purchase. I did not -take it wholly, and indeed acted on my own -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>judgment and that of other friends in buying -Wantabalree. But I shall always feel grateful -for their well-meant counsel.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Why, how is this, Hubert?” said Mr. -Grandison with an important air. “You seem -to have been very decided on the subject. My -friend Barterdale, under whose financial advice -Colonel Dacre acted, says he is credibly informed -that it is a most paying purchase. And -Dealerson says it is the best bargain of the day.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“For <em>him</em>, no doubt; but Dealerson is a liar -and a rogue,” said Hubert, bluntly. “I will tell -him so to his face, if ever I meet him. As for -Mr. Barterdale, he keeps Dealerson’s account, -and perhaps may not wish to offend a good -customer. The Colonel has been deceived and -robbed, that’s all! And having said enough, -perhaps more than is polite, I shall not speak -another word about the affair, except to assure -Colonel Dacre that all Windāhgil is at his -service in the way of neighbourly assistance.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Thanks very much!” said the Colonel, -looking rather crestfallen; “but have you -heard” Hubert felt quite ashamed of his savage -sentence as he remarked the old gentleman’s -humility of tone—“the price I have sold the -fat sheep at?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No,” replied Hubert, “I can’t say that I -have; but, assuming that the wool does as well -you are still in a dangerous position, with an -overcrowded run. However, I sincerely trust -that it may be otherwise.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>“And so do I,” said Mr. Grandison; “but -you’ve done your duty, my boy, and Providence -must do the rest. Colonel Dacre is coming to -lunch with me. Here’s the phaeton, jump in -and you will see Mrs. Grandison and Josie, -besides another young lady that you haven’t -before met.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I asked Mr. Hope to lunch,” said Hubert; -“but as he can’t come I am free. And so, if -Colonel Dacre isn’t offended by my plain speaking, -I shall be most happy.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>At luncheon Mrs. Grandison appeared with -the fair Josie, who welcomed Hubert so warmly -that he began to think that he was mistaken in -the opinion he had previously formed of both -these ladies. Certainly, in his boyhood, they had -expressed remarkably little interest in his welfare. -But being slow to think evil, he took himself -severely to task, and decided that Mrs. Grandison -was a warm-hearted matron, and Josie a very -attractive-looking girl.</p> - -<p class='c017'>At that moment a young lady entered the -room and apologised to Mrs. Grandison in so -sweet a voice, and with so much natural grace -of manner, for being late that his too susceptible -heart was immediately led captive. -Miss Josie’s charms receded to a register below -zero, where they remained as unalterably fixed -as the “set fair” in an aneroid barometer in -a drought.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Allow me to introduce our cousin, Mr. -Hubert Stamford,” said the elder lady; “Miss -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>Dacre, I think you are to be neighbours in the -bush.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am happy to meet Mr. Stamford,” said -the young lady, bestowing a gaze on Hubert -so honest, kindly, and yet questioning, that his -subjection was complete. “Though, from what -papa tells me, it is not his fault that we are not -in some other district.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I was acting against my own interest—against -all our interests,” Hubert said, rather -nervously. “Believe me that the whole family -were most anxious to have you as neighbours. -So you must give me credit for honesty of -intention.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall never doubt that, from all I hear,” -said Miss Dacre. “Papa is rather sanguine, I -am afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And perhaps I am not sufficiently so,” said -Hubert; “It’s all over now. Let us find a -pleasanter subject. When do you think of -going up?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! next week at farthest. Are we not, -papa?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The Colonel nodded. “I’m enthusiastically -fond of the country. I hear there’s such a nice -cottage, quite a pretty garden, a flowing stream, -a mountain, cows and pigs, and chickens, a fair -library—in fact, almost an English home. -You’ll admit that, I hope, Mr. Stamford?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’ll admit anything,” said Hubert; “the -homestead’s the best in the district. My mother -and sisters will be charmed to put you <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>au fait</em></span> in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>all matters of bush housekeeping. And now, -Josie, are you going to the opera on Thursday -night, and would you like a cavalier?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We were thinking of it,” said she. “Mother -was doubtful, and father doesn’t care about opera. -If you can get some one else, I have no doubt -Mrs. Stopford would be glad to act as chaperon, -and Miss Dacre and I would go—if she would -like it?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! above all things,” said that young -lady; “I am always ready to hear opera. And -I hear you have a very good company here. I -was stupid enough, when I left England, to -think I should never hear Italian opera again. -I feel ashamed.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We are not quite barbarians, nor yet copper-coloured,” -said Josie; “though I am afraid we -Sydney girls can’t boast of our complexions.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am quite ready to make recantation of all -my errors,” said Miss Dacre. “I suppose it -need not be done publicly, in a white sheet. I am -divided between that and writing to the <cite>Times</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I believe you will make the best bush-woman -possible,” said the Colonel, with an -admiring glance. “Only we both have so much -to unlearn. I didn’t expect to see a room like -this, for instance, or such appointments,” he -continued, raising a glass of claret pensively to -his lips.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s rather a bad thing for us, pappy, as we -have to live in the real bush, don’t you think? -We must forget it all as soon as possible.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>“It won’t make the least difference to you, -my dear,” said Mrs. Grandison. “If you had -seen Hubert’s sisters here you would have been—well—astonished -to see such girls come out of -the bush. For some reasons I begin really to -think it would be better for all of us to live -there.” Here she glanced reflectively at Josie, -who looked scarcely as self-possessed as usual.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall not say another word about bush -matters,” said Hubert. “They will keep. -When Miss Dacre comes up she will judge for -herself. If my opinion is requested, I shall be -happy to give it, but shall not volunteer advice. -Will your brother travel up with you, Miss -Dacre?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Willoughby went to stay a few days with -a ship friend, who lives near Penrith, I think -it is, but he is quite as enthusiastic as I am -about beginning life in earnest. He will be in -town again on Friday.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Come and dine with us on Saturday, then, -Hubert,” said Mrs. Grandison, and I’ll ask -Mr. Hope and one or two of your rude bush -pioneers. Josie, can’t you get a couple of young -ladies for Hubert’s benefit and to show Mr. -Dacre?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t think Hubert wants any more young -ladies,” said Josie mischievously; “but I’ll ask -the Flemington girls to come in—one of them -plays marvellously and the other sings. Her -voice is very like Parepa’s.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>The dinner was a success, the party to the -opera having gone off without a drawback to -the unbroken joyousness of the affair. The -Misses Flemington came and performed such -musical feats as were expected of them, and -Miss Dacre admitted that she had not heard -a voice unprofessional for years to equal May -Flemington’s. She wondered, indeed, what she -could have been thinking of to imagine that -when she came to Australia all artistic luxuries -were to be banished from her thoughts.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The fact is,” she said, “we are frightfully -narrow and prejudiced in England. We know -a great deal about France, Germany and the -Continent generally, because we are always running -backwards and forwards. But of our own -countrymen in Australia and New Zealand we -know next to nothing. I was going to say as -little as about Timbuctoo, but we do really -know something about Africa, because the missionaries -tell us, and we have returned evangelists -from Borioboolah Gha, even from Fiji and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>New Zealand. But of Australia we know -nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“When you go home again, Miss Dacre,” -said Hubert, “you will be able to do battle for -us, I see. We must make you Agent-General, -or Ambassadress, if any such post is vacant. -I am sure you will do us justice.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Indeed I shall, but I feel ashamed of the -ludicrous notions which I brought out with me. -No one would think of going down to Yorkshire -and saying, ‘I suppose you have nothing -newer in songs than “The days when we went -gipsying,”’ or asking the Edinburgh people if -they had ever seen a bicycle. But really men -and women who have had ‘advantages,’ as they -are called, do come out here (five weeks from -England) and expect to see you living a sort -of Fenimore Cooper life, cutting down trees, -‘trailing’ your enemies, and sleeping in wigwams -or huts only once removed.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Perhaps a portion of this is natural enough,” -said Hubert, “we are a long way from town.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No, it is not natural,” said Miss Dacre; -“because have not so many of our friends come -out for generations past? And then for us to -think that their sons and daughters were to grow -up as clods and <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>belles sauvages</em></span>!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It will all come right in time,” said Hubert. -“It doesn’t hurt us, if it pleases them, always -excepting people”—here he bowed—“whom -we don’t want to have wrong impressions about -us. Wait till you get fairly settled at Wantabalree, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>Miss Dacre, and you’ll lose a few more -illusions.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! but I don’t want to lose all of them,” -replied the young lady. “Some of them are so -nice, that I want to retain them in full freshness. -I am going to keep pigs and poultry and send -wonderful hams to England to show our people -what we can do. I am going to be a great -walker, and write letters about my impressions -to the magazines. I am sure they will do good. -Then I shall have a good collection of books, -and grow quite learned, besides making myself -acquainted with all the people round about, and -doing good among the poor. I am certain there -is a great field for an energetic person like -myself.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“True!” replied Hubert reflectively. “Australians -are rarely energetic, and your programme -is excellent. I fully agree with all -your plans and ideas, but I am only afraid there -may be difficulties in the way of carrying them -out.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You really are most disappointing people—you -colonists.” Here Hubert held up his -finger warningly.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! I forgot. I am not to call you colonists, -but to talk to you as if you were like -everybody else—is not that so? Well—but -you <em>do</em> disappoint me. There is an air of -guarded toleration, or mild disapproval, which -I observe among all of you when I begin to -talk of carrying out reforms. You are very -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>polite, I admit; but tell me now, why should -I not? Surely one does not come all this way -to do only what everyone else does!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Josie laughed. Hubert looked sympathetic, -but did not offer an explanation. Then Mrs. -Grandison took up the running. “My dear, -you are quite right in wishing to do everything -in your power in the way of good; it is what -every girl ought to strive after. It would keep -them out of mischief, and so on. But where -you English people—when you first come out, -not afterwards—differ a little from us is that -you are all going to set us benighted colonists -right, and to improve us in a great many ways. -You say, “I only want to do my duty—just as -one would do in England,” but the idea is that -you can improve things ever so much.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, perhaps there may be a feeling that a -good deal appears to be left undone; but the -intention is to do our duty in that state of -life, &c.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Quite true,” assented Mrs. Grandison; -“but remember what you said, that so many of -the best people of the old country had come out -here. May not they and their children have -worked to some purpose, with results like the -Miss Flemington’s music and singing?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, that does seem probable, but a great -deal remains undone; you must admit that, -surely?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am afraid many of us are not up to the -mark in our duties, but the same kind of persons -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>would perhaps have done no better in an English -county. But I could show you people who pass -their lives in doing good—who hardly do anything -else, in fact.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And for what is not done,” said Hubert, -who had been regarding Mrs. Grandison’s defence -of Australian institutions with a slightly surprised -air, “there is commonly some reason, -though not visible to a newly arrived young -lady like yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Thank you, Mr. Stamford. But why did -you not call me a ‘new chum’ while you were -about it? I know you all look down on us.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We do not call ladies ‘new chums,’” said -Hubert gravely, bowing slightly at the same -time. “And I really must decline any more -passages of arms about my native land. I hope -you will like it, and us too on further acquaintance. -I will hand you over to my sisters, who -will argue the point with you at any length, and -if you can inoculate each other with your different -opinions, it will be mutually advantageous.” -With which diplomatic recommendation Mr. -Hubert Stamford looked at his watch and bowed -himself out. “I mustn’t be late for this appointment -with Barrington Hope,” he told himself. -“It is important enough, and though I could -sit and argue with that nice, fresh, enthusiastic -Miss Dacre all day, yet ‘business is business.’”</p> - -<p class='c017'>From which latter proverb, it may be inferred -that Mr. Stamford, junior, although by no means -averse to the proper and gallant attendance upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>ladies which every man of his age should hold -to be a part of his knightly devoir, was yet in -the main a practical youth, likely in the long run -to win his spurs in the modern tourney of -pastoral commerce.</p> - -<p class='c017'>After thinking over the points of the coming -conference, he signalled to a hansom cabby, and -was taken up by that modern benefactor of the -late, the imprudent, and the unlucky, and -whirled swiftly to the offices of the Austral -Agency Company. Here Mr. Hope had arranged -to meet a Mr. Delamere, who was anxious to -acquire a pastoral property in the new country, -Queensland, just opened and in every man’s -mouth. This gentleman had but lately arrived -from England. In a kind of way he was consigned -to the company by one of the English -directors, who happened to be his uncle.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Delamere, senior, had known the colonies -in former years, and being fully aware that high -hope and lofty purpose, even when combined -with an available capital, do not altogether make -up for total inexperience of all Australian -pastoral matters, had besought the manager -of the Melbourne branch of the Austral Agency -Company to advise the cadet of his house.</p> - -<p class='c013'>“I am aware, my dear Thornton,” he wrote, -“that in a general way it is thought better that -a newly arrived young gentleman should work -out his own destiny in Australia—that after -repeated falls and losses he learns to run alone, -and may be trusted henceforth to move more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>circumspectly than if he had been ‘shepherded’ -from the first. But I dissent from this theory. -The falls are often serious; after some losses -there is nothing left. I prefer a partner, such -a one as I had myself thirty years ago if possible. -There ought to be a few well-bred youngsters -knocking about who know everything that can -be known about stations and stock but are held -back for want of capital. Such a one could -supply the experience, while Frank Delamere -would find the capital. The old joke used to -be that in two or three years the new arrival -had acquired all the experience and the colonist -all the cash. This reads smartly, but is false -enough, like many <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>bons mots</em></span> both in the Old -World and the New. Where was there ever a -better man than my old overseer, Jock Maxwell, -afterwards partner, and now deservedly pastoral -magnate? He could work twice as hard as I ever -did; he knew station life <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>ab ovo</em></span>. He was -honest to a fault. He—but I always prose -when I get on this topic. It is enough to say -that I had sufficient sense to form this estimate -of his character and act upon it, ‘whereby,’ as -Captain Cuttle has it, I am now writing from -Greyland Manor, near Glastonbury Thorn, -instead of being a white slave in a counting -house, or the half-pay pauper generally known -as a retired military officer.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“Therefore—a convenient, if illogical expression—I -charge you to procure a good steady -‘pardner’ for Frank, who will see that his ten -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>thousand, perhaps more, if need be, is not -wasted or pillaged before he cuts his wisdom -teeth as a bushman. Draw at sight, when -investments are made with your consent.—Yours -ever sincerely,</p> - -<div class='c015'>“<span class='sc'>Robert Delamere</span>.”</div> -<p class='c012'>#/</p> - -<p class='c017'>This was the business on which the three men -met on this day at the Austral Agency Company’s -office. Before this momentous interview a certain -amount of preliminary work had been done. -Letters and ‘wires’ had circulated freely -between Windāhgil, Sydney and Melbourne, -from which city the newly-fledged intending -purchaser had recently been summoned. Permission -had been reluctantly granted by Mr. -Stamford, who foresaw years of separation from -the son and heir, who had never cost him an -anxious moment as to his conduct. The affair -was tearfully discussed by Mrs. Stamford and -the girls, who thought life would no longer -be worth living at Windāhgil when Hubert’s -merry voice and unfailing good spirits were -withdrawn.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Why do people want to change and alter -things—to go away and bring sorrow and misery -and destruction—no, I mean desolation—on those -they love?” demanded Linda. “And we are all -so happy here! It seems cruel of Hubert to take -it into his head to go to Queensland—all among -blacks, and fever, and sunstroke, and everything.” -Here she got to the end of her list of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>probable disasters, and though sensible that her -climax was not effective, was fain to conclude, -“Don’t you think it’s too bad, mother?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We shall feel dear Hubert’s absence deeply, -bitterly, I grant,” said the fond mother; “but -he is animated by the very natural desire of all -high-spirited young men to improve the fortunes -of the family, and to distinguish himself -in a career which is open to all.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But the danger, mother!” said Laura, in a -low voice; “you remember poor young Talbot, -whom the blacks killed last month, and Mr. -Haldane, who died of fever. Suppose—oh! -suppose—--”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Suppose the house fell down and killed, us -all,” said Mr. Stamford, rather testily, for the -purpose of hiding his own inward disquiet, -which, though not expressed, was as deeply felt -as that of his wife and daughters. “It’s no use -talking in that way, as if a young man had -never gone out into the world before. Boys go -to sea and into the army every day of the -year. People must make up their minds to it. -It is a grand opportunity, Mr. Hope says, and -may not occur again.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall hate Mr. Hope,” said Linda, “if he -has induced Hubert to go into this speculation -along with some one no one knows, into a -country which half the people, it seems to me, -never come back from. But I suppose those -mercantile men don’t care.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You mustn’t be unjust, Linda,” interposed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>Laura. “Whatever Mr. Hope has done has -been in Hubert’s interest, we may feel sure. -He has always been most friendly to the family. -And you must remember that Hubert has been -lately always pining to go to Queensland, and -talking about wasting his life here in this old -settled district.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What’s the use of being miserable if you -can’t be unjust to some one?” retorted Linda. -“If you felt as deeply as I do, Laura, you -wouldn’t talk in that cold-blooded way. I can -see the whole thing. Mr. Hope and his company -are anxious to establish a great station -property out in Queensland, or Kimberley, or -King George’s Sound, or wherever it is, and -they have pitched upon poor Hubert as a likely -victim for the sacrifice. That’s the whole -thing! They’re regular Molochs, and Mr. -Hope is the officiating High Priest—nothing -else. I wonder how he’d look with a garland -of oak leaves, like the Druid in <cite>Norma</cite>?” -Here Linda’s feelings, brought to a climax by a -smile which she detected on Laura’s countenance -at her <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>mélange</em></span> of metaphors, became too much -for her, and pressing her handkerchief to her -eyes, she retreated to her bedroom.</p> - -<p class='c017'>All the high contracting parties having sent -in unqualified assent, it but remained for Mr. -Hope to introduce the young men to each other—the -representatives of the Parent Land and -that Greater Britain which has now in the South -and West attained such vast proportions; also -<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>to reduce to writing the terms of an agreement -by which the two men bound themselves to -work together for their joint benefit as graziers, -explorers, stock and station proprietors for the -fixed term of five years.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Delamere was to place to the credit of -the new firm of Delamere and Stamford the sum -of ten thousand pounds, which would be amply -sufficient for the purchase of stock, the taking -up, or even securing at second-hand, the requisite -areas of Crown lands in new or partially -settled country.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert Stamford, on the other hand, “did -agree and contract to personally manage and -conduct the details of the joint concern—to -superintend the management of stock, the hiring -of station hands, the purchase of stores, and -whatever work, either of exploration, travel, or -management, might be found necessary, for -which he was, in consideration of such personal -knowledge and experience of the management of -stock and stations by him acquired, to be placed -and held to be the possessor of one-third share -of the said property and of the profits of said -stock and stations.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>These provisions and declarations were -embodied in an agreement, which was drawn up -by the company’s solicitor and submitted by -him to Mr. Worthington for inspection and -approval.</p> - -<p class='c017'>That gentleman, as instructed, wrote to Mr. -Stamford, senior, who, it would appear, made -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>some subsequent communication to him, -inasmuch as Mr Hope received a letter signed -Worthington, Wardell and Co., which briefly -but clearly stated that his friend and client, Mr. -Stamford, of Windāhgil, approved generally of -the terms of the agreement entered into by his -son and Mr. Delamere, and that he was quite -willing that he should enter into such an -arrangement, and that Mr. Hope, of the Austral -Agency Company, had his full confidence and -trust. But that he desired his son to place a proportionate -sum of ready money to the credit of -the firm, and not to enter it wholly upon the -outlay of another. And therefore that he had -placed in Mr. Worthington’s hands securities to -the value of five thousand pounds, which sum -they were ready to pay over on Mr. Hope’s -order to that effect.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Upon the receipt of this letter, Mr. Hope at -once proposed that the share of the profits to -which Mr. Hubert Stamford was entitled under -the agreement should be altered to one half, inasmuch -as his superior knowledge and experience -would be in value to the interest of the other -moiety of the ten thousand pounds to be advanced -by Mr. Delamere, and would thus equalise -matters. This was at once agreed to, on the part -of Mr. Delamere and the Melbourne manager of -the company acting in his interests, upon which -the agreement was “signed, sealed, and delivered.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Nothing now remained but for Hubert to -pay a farewell visit to Windāhgil, for the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>purpose of settling up what personal business -he might have, to take leave of the family, and -then to journey into a far country after the -fashion of the princes, prodigals, and younger -sons of historic ages.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Place and time being appointed for the newly-joined -partners to meet and take ship for their -destination, Hubert Stamford commenced all -requisite preparation for a start homewards.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He had no further heart for the pleasures of -Sydney—the ordinary distractions of a young -man palled upon him. He felt like a general -whose army is about to march for the imminent -battle—like a soldier picked for a forlorn hope, -or an advanced guard. The meaner pleasures -revolted him. Balls and picnics, theatres and -concerts, were but the straws and <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>débris</em></span> of life’s -ocean. The argosy which carried his fortunes -was about to sail with canvas spread and -streamers flying. Would she return gold-laden, -or would the cold ocean engulf her as so many -other fairer barks which, “youth at the prow -and pleasure at the helm,” had sailed away -through the <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>ingens aequor</em></span>, and returned nevermore? -Was it to be so with him?</p> - -<p class='c017'>Might it be a proved success, a wider experience -with the praise of all men, the joyful -tears and triumph of those who loved him? -Or that other thing? Who could tell? He -could only resolve to do and to dare worthily, -whatever might befall, for their dear sakes.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Miss Dacre, with her father and brother, had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>left town for Wantabalree, being anxious to be -settled in their new abode. The Colonel, distrusting -more deeply day by day the wisdom of -his purchase, had become restless and uneasy; -he wanted to see with his own eyes how things -went on, and to justify himself, if possible, for -the investment, at which more than one disinterested -critic had shaken his head. Willoughby -Dacre, an ardent inexperienced youngster, who -thought Australian squatter life made up wholly -of galloping about on horseback, and lying -under shady trees eating tropical fruits, was also -impatient to be in the thick of the half-Arab -life he pictured to himself.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Rosalind Dacre, though the chief doubter and -dissentient, was yet eager to see with her own -eyes this land of promise, which was, according -to Hubert, to fail so woefully in performance, -and also to put in practice her own ideas of -“the gentle life” as possible in Australia; at -the same time to comfort her father and aid in -the household management.</p> - -<p class='c017'>For all these reasons the Dacre family had -departed; and Hubert, calling at their hotel, -found to his surprise and slight dissatisfaction, -that they had gone the day before, a note of -the Colonel’s alone remaining <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>en souvenir</em></span>, in -which he thanked him for his well-meant, -valuable advice, and trusted they would -meet in the neighbourhood of their respective -stations.</p> - -<p class='c017'>For some unexplained reason Hubert read -<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>this trivial note several times, and then tearing -it up in a reflective manner, walked slowly -towards his own hostelry.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“When do you think of leaving, Hubert?” -said Mr. Hope, as they were talking over -districts and markets, land laws and tenures, -railways and syndicates, all more or less bearing -on the great pastoral central idea. “When -shall you go home?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“On Friday, I think. I am getting tired of -town, and everything is fully arranged.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Everything is settled that needs settling, and -nothing more can be done until you young men -manage to get pretty far back, and make your -first deal in new country. It’s a gloriously -exciting, adventurous kind of life, this starting -to take up new country. I often wish I’d taken -to it myself in youth, instead of this branch of -the business.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Living in town seems a pleasant life -enough,” said Hubert. “You have all sorts -of things that we people in the bush have to do -without.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And we need them all,” said the elder man. -“This office life is one eternal grind, month -after month, year after year. But I don’t wish -to complain. I suppose all men get ‘hypped’ -sometimes.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I never do,” laughed Hubert; “the day’s -never long enough for me; but I suppose -I soon should if I lived all the year round in -town. It’s being so much in the open air that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>saves one. But why don’t you clear out to -Windāhgil for a change? Come home with me. -The governor and my mother are always expecting -you to send them word you’re coming.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I wish to heaven I could,” said the man -of the city, looking enviously at Hubert’s -cheery countenance and unworn features; “but -I can’t find the time at present. However, -I promise to turn up at Mooramah—isn’t that -your railway town?—some time before -Christmas. I shall count the days till I can, -I assure you.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall be away then, I am sorry to say,” -said Hubert. “I should like to have taken -you all over the old place. There are one or -two decent views, and rides and drives no end. -However, the girls and the young brothers -know them as well as I do; you must -get them to do the honours. Oh! I forgot, -too—you can drive them over to the Dacres’. -But you mustn’t put it off too long. Still, they -can’t be ruined within a year or eighteen months, -anyhow.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And perhaps not then,” said Mr. Hope, -with a smile. “Friends might intervene -judiciously, you know. It won’t be Mr. -Dealerson’s fault if they pull through, however.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“No, hang him! However, there must be -Dealersons in the world, I suppose. They act -as a kind of foil to honest men, and serve as -transparencies to show roguery in all its glory. -Well, good-bye till then. We may meet -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>before Delamere and I start for the ‘Never-Never’ -country.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>When Hubert Stamford beheld his sisters -and his younger brother, who had driven to -Mooramah to meet him, he felt more like a -stranger and pilgrim than he ever expected to -feel in that familiar spot. He was there with -them, but not of them, as it were. He was to -stay a month or so at Windāhgil—only a month -at the dear old place where he had lived ever -since he could remember anything; he was to -go over all the familiar scenes once more, and -then—to leave it, certainly for years, perhaps -for ever. After the first warm greeting the -girls looked inquiringly at him; the tears came -into Laura’s eyes. “Oh, how happy we are to -see you, our own dear Hubert; but to think -you are going away so soon nearly breaks my -heart!” she said.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He looks wonderfully well. Town life—not -too much—always refines people,” said -Linda, with an air of tender criticism; “but I -think there’s a hard look about his eyes. I -suppose it’s making up his mind to this grand -new speculation.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You see exactly the same Hubert Stamford -that went away, you little analysing duffer, but -is it my fault that I have had to move with the -rest of the world? Do you want me to stay at -home and become a superior sort of ‘cockatoo,’ -and are you and Laura—if it is to come to that—prepared -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>to remain at Windāhgil for the rest -of your lives?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I wish I could,” groaned Laura; “but -as you say, we must move with the rest of the -world. Still these separations are heart-breaking. -You needn’t mind us overmuch, dear; but -we are women, remember, and you must let us -have our cry out. It does us good, and relieves -the overcharged heart.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Very well, I consent. But you must -manage it all to-day. To-morrow must be -sunshine, and only blue sky appear till I depart. -But there’s a whole month or more yet. Think -of that! We can be ever so happy all that -time. Now, to change the subject. Have you -seen anything of the Dacres?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That means Miss Dacre, I suppose,” said -Linda. “Oh, yes; we went to call almost -directly we heard they were up. Said we -thought they might want something. That -was how we described our curiosity.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And what do you think of her?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“She’s a dear, sweet creature, and Laura and I -have agreed that if you don’t fall in love with her, -your taste isn’t as good as we believed it to be.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“She’s very nice,” said Hubert, with society -nonchalance; “but I’ve got something else to -do besides falling in love for the next three or -four years. Besides, she mightn’t condescend -to a humble colonist like me. But tell me, -Laura, what was there about her that you were -struck with chiefly?”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>“Several things,” said Laura, reflectively. -“She is a high-caste, cultured girl in every -respect, though she is so fresh, and natural, -and plain in all her ways, that people who -are always looking out for the airs and graces -of the Lady Clara Vere de Vere species might -be disappointed in her.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“All that I can understand and generally -agree with,” said Hubert. “What next?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“She is awfully energetic,” continued Laura. -“Of course, there are plenty of girls in this -country that are, but she never seems to have -any notion of repose from the time she gets up, -which is early, till bed-time. She reads and -writes and does her housekeeping, and walks, -and rides and drives, and what she calls visits -the poor (oh, there is quite a good story about -that, which I must tell you!), all with unvarying -industry.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“She is a newly imported broom,” said -Hubert, “and naturally sweeps with effectiveness. -It will slow down a little with time. But it’s a -fault on the right side. Tell us the story, -Laura dear.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“Well,” said Laura, putting on a Scheherazade -expression of countenance, “it appears that -Miss Dacre, having been used to be good to -the poor of the village near where they lived -in England, could not get on without them. -Much to her surprise, she found them scarce -in the neighbourhood of Wantabalree. Mr. -Dealerson did not ‘believe in’ poor people, -and generally ‘fed out,’ ‘blocked,’ or bought out -small holders. At length, in one of her rides, -she came upon an old couple living in a miserable -hut, the man feeble and half-blind, both apparently -destitute; their one little girl was barefooted -and in rags. They told a pitiful story of -having been deceived in the matter of a free selection—which, -of course, she couldn’t understand—and -deserted by their children. Charmed by -their evident poverty and artless expressions of -gratitude, she gave them what silver she had, -and promised them employment.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Her intention was good,” said Hubert. “I -can guess the kind of people they were; but it -speaks well for her kindness of heart.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“Nothing could be kinder, I am sure; but -I grieve to say, she rushed into a declamation -(she confessed) about the hardness of colonists’ -hearts—who would let so deserving a couple -almost die of hunger in a land of plenty.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“As to that,” said Hubert, “very few people -suffer from hunger in Australia, except when -they decline work. Even then, they manage to -live on their friends. How did the story end?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, she formed a plan for persuading -these delightful poor to migrate to Wantabalree, -where they were to be fed and furnished -with light work. Fortunately for her peace of -mind, when she told her father and brother, -they made inquiries among the neighbours. Then -they found out that the old man was one of the -most artful and successful sheep-stealers in the -district, and had even been tried for graver crimes. -The money she gave him he invested in rum, -under the influence of which he beat his wife and -turned his little daughter out of doors.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And what effect had this discovery on her -philanthropy, for of course it was old Jimmy -Doolan—a man the police have been trying to -get hold of for years—as slippery as a fox and as -savage as a wolf?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“She had to recant; to admit that perhaps, -on the whole, the characters of people were -known and appreciated by those amongst whom -they lived. Still, she said there was a want of -systematic benevolence in the neighbourhood, -and that she would rather be deceived occasionally, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>than sink into a state of cold indifferentism -towards her fellow creatures.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s really quite pathetic,” said Hubert. -“One feels drawn towards a girl of such tendencies -as if she were a nice child. It seems hard that -a few years of colonial experience should deprive -her of such tender illusions.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t think anything will tone her down -into anything uninteresting, if you mean that,” -said Linda; “she has too much high principle -and refinement.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“She will learn to act judiciously in time, as -mother does, for instance,” said Laura. “She’s -always bestowing father’s substance upon some -poor creature or other; but she finds out the right -sort of people, and the proper when and where.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Before long a return visit occurred from -Wantabalree, from which place Willoughby -Dacre drove his sister to Windāhgil about a -week after the conversation above recorded.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The brother and sister made their appearance -in a vehicle of unpretending appearance, being, -indeed, no other than the spring-cart which was -“given in” ostentatiously by Mr. Dealerson, -along with furniture and other station requisites. -Willoughby, having managed to rig up leading -harness, had accomplished a tandem with two -of the best-looking horses on the station, so -that the turn-out was not wholly plebeian.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Much mutual delight was expressed by the -girls, and various experiences interchanged -which had occurred since their last meeting. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>The young men went off together to put up -the horses, and took advantage of the opportunity -to have a little sheep-talk.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How are you getting on so far?” said -Hubert. “Shaking down a bit, I suppose. -Does your father approve of bush life?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, he finds himself most comfortable,” -answered Willoughby. “He has a snug morning -room with a fire, and plenty of books and -papers. He says he never expected to enjoy -himself so much in the bush. He takes a great -interest in the garden too. The fruit trees and -vines are really something to look at.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t doubt it,” said Hubert. “The house -and grounds, stabling and out-offices are about -the best in the district. Well, I hope you’ll -all live there many years to enjoy them.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I hope so too,” said Willoughby; “but excuse -me if I say that you don’t seem to expect -it. Now, why is it that, as everything is so -good in its way, the sheep well-bred, everybody -says, and looking so well now, that you regard -the investment as a bad one? You are not -alone in that opinion either, though the other -neighbours don’t speak so honestly.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“My prophecy of evil may not come off, -after all. This is an uncertain country as to -weather, and weather with us is everything. -But if the rain holds off, you’ll see what I mean. -You have about two-thirds too many sheep on -the run. That is all.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What can we do?”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>“Well, nothing just at present. In a -general way, sell off surplus stock as soon as -you can do so profitably. But in a dry season -everybody wishes to sell, and few care to buy -except at the lowest prices. However, I’ll put -you up to the likeliest dodges when the time -comes.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Thanks very much. I can’t help feeling -anxious from time to time when I think that -our all is embarked in this undertaking. I -thought it was so safe and solid, and never -dreamed that there could be such a swindle -worked when all looked fair outside. The -governor was rash, I must say. It’s a way of -his. But we must fight our way out of the -scrape, now we’re in it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That’s the only thing to be done, and not -to lose heart. There are always chances and -changes with stock in Australia. Fortunes are -always to be made.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And to be lost, it seems. You are just -going to invest in Queensland, I hear. Isn’t -that a long way off?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s never too far off if the country’s good,” -said Hubert. “Runs are cheap there now, but -they are always rising in value. I intend to send -a lot of our Windāhgil sheep out there as soon -as we get settled.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If we hadn’t spent all our money,” said -the young Englishman regretfully, “we -might have bought a run there too. However, -it can’t be helped, as we said before. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>shall be glad to hear from you when you get -there.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Any information I can give shall be at your -service, as well as all possible assistance,” said -Hubert, warmly. “Always depend upon that. -But it’s early in the day to talk about such -things. We shall see more clearly what to do -as the occasion arises. And now, we had better -join the ladies.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was settled after a rather animated discussion -that the visitors were not to return to -Wantabalree that night. In vain they pleaded -household tasks, station exigencies, the anxiety -which Colonel Dacre was certain to experience -at their absence. All these reasons were treated -as mere excuses. There couldn’t be much -housekeeping for one person, especially as they -had, for a wonder, a decent cook. The station -could wait, the less work done among the sheep -at present, the better; while it was extracted in -cross-examination that Colonel Dacre had told -them that if they did not return, he should -conclude they had stayed at Windāhgil. So the -truce was definitely arranged, the horses turned -into the river paddock, the young men went out -for a drive in Hubert’s buggy to inspect a dam -“at the back,” concerning which young Dacre -had expressed some interest, while the three -girls, after a ramble in the garden, settled down -to a good steady afternoon’s needlework and an -exhaustive discussion of bush life, and Australian -matters generally.</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>“What a famous, light-running, easy trap -this is of yours!” said Dacre, as they spun over -the smooth, sandy bush track, Whalebone and -Whipcord, an exceptionally fast pair of horses, -slipping along at half-speed.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes,” said Hubert. “It’s the best thing of -the kind that’s made, I believe. I bought this -to take out with me to the new country. I -think it is economical to have a vehicle of this -sort. There are many bits of station work -that a buggy comes in for, and you save horseflesh. -I wonder you don’t get one for your -sister.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, we found the tax-cart at the station, -and Rosalind’s such a terrific economist that she -wouldn’t hear of us buying a carriage, as she -calls it, for her. But I really must go in for a -buggy, if it’s only on the governor’s account. -He’s not so young as he was, and riding knocks -him about, I can see. But how fast your horses -are! I didn’t think Australian horses went in -for trotting much. None of ours do.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Australian horses (and men and women too, -as I think I have mentioned before),” remarked -Hubert with suspicious mildness, “resemble -those in other parts of the world, though the -contrary is asserted. Some are good, others -bad. Some of them—the horses, I now allude -to—can trot. Others cannot. This pair, for -instance”—(here he tightened his reins, and in -some imperceptible fashion gave a signal, which -they answered to by putting up their heads and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>bursting into sixteen miles an hour)—“can do -a mile in very fair time for non-professionals.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“So I see,” replied the young Englishman. -“I wish I was not so hasty in forming impressions; -however, I shall be cured of that in time. -But it is awfully trying to hold your tongue -when everything is new and exciting, and to -talk cautiously is foreign to the Dacre nature.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“‘<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>Experientia</em></span> does it,’ as we used to say at -school,” laughed Hubert. “You’ll be chaffing -new arrivals in a couple of years yourself. The -regulation period is about that time, and I don’t -think you’ll take so long as some people.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That’s a compliment to my general intelligence,” -said Dacre. “I suppose I ought to -feel grateful. But one can’t help a slight feeling -of soreness, you know, that after being -regularly educated for a colonial life, as I was, -and coached in all the necessary carpentering, -blacksmithing, agriculture, and so on, I should -find myself so utterly ignorant and helpless -here.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Come, come,” said Hubert; “you do yourself -injustice. It won’t take more than a year to -make a smart bushman of you, I can see. But I -suppose it’s something like going into a strange -country to hunt. You remember that when -Mr. Sawyer went to the Shires he felt under a -disadvantage at first.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, but you wouldn’t, or M’Intosh, or -any of the other fellows I’ve seen; that’s what -makes me so savage with myself. You’d know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>your way about; people wouldn’t discover, -unless you told them, that you had lived in -England all your days, while we fellows, who -came out here certainly thinking ourselves as -good all round as any one we were likely to find, -are always exposing our ignorance, getting -laughed at, or taken in, and are marked for -immigrants and tyros as far as we can be seen.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I observe your point, and it is a little aggravating,” -replied Hubert. “But after all, -it is a compliment to our mother country that -we make it our business from childhood to -know all about her history and traditions, -manners and customs, from a thousand accurate -chronicles. Our usages, modelled upon hers -and religiously handed down by our parents, -are identical, or as nearly so as we can make -them. But our country and our trifling yet -marked departures from English standards have -found few close observers, accurate descriptions, -and fewer narrators still. There is hardly any -way of getting acquainted with us, except by -actual experience.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It looks like it,” assented his friend, reluctantly; -“but I mourn over the fond illusions -Rosalind and I are doomed to lose before we -complete our apprenticeship. Hope we may -acquire others not less satisfactory. The outlook -at Wantabalree at present might be -brighter too, if what you told my father comes -to pass.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It may not happen after all, or it may be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>parried and averted. All manner of chances -may arise in your interest. So do not <em>think</em> -of desponding,” said Hubert. “One of the -special characteristics of Australians is, that they -<em>never despair</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Never know when they are beat, in fact,” -said Dacre, with a returning smile. “Well -that is a genuine English trait at any rate, so -I must support the credit of my country.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>The dam was inspected and the principle of -the “by-wash” explained to Dacre, who showed -an aptitude and readiness to comprehend the -necessary detail which favourably impressed -Hubert.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The free horses pulled more on the homeward -track than coming out, and elicited high -commendation.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They certainly are superb goers, and this is -the poetry of motion,” Dacre exclaimed, as, -sending out their eight legs as if they belonged -to one horse, the well-matched pair made the -light, yet strong vehicle spin over the level road -with an ease and velocity which no two-wheeled -trap ever approached. “I shall be unhappy -till I set up a buggy and a pair of trotters—all -the good resolutions to spend nothing that -could be helped made at the beginning of the -month notwithstanding.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s false economy to go without a buggy,” -said Hubert. “Tell your father I said so. -And that is easily demonstrable. It saves horse-flesh, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>enables you to carry feed in a dry season, -and has other useful and agreeable qualities.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The tea, for which they were just in time to -dress, was an agreeable, not to say hilarious, -meal. The Miss Stamfords, it would seem, had -been admitting their visitor into all kinds of -occult mysteries of domestic management. -How they arranged when they were short of a -servant, without a cook or a housemaid, or -indeed, as occasionally happened, though not -for any protracted period, when they had no -servant at all.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Miss Dacre was astonished to find what a -complete and practical knowledge these soft-appearing, -graceful damsels displayed with -many branches of household lore, and how many -hints they were able to offer for her acceptance, -all of which tended to lighten the labours of -bush housekeeping, which she had already found -burdensome.</p> - -<p class='c017'>From Mrs. Stamford, on opening the relief -question, it was discovered that she had various -humble friends and pensioners, all of whom she -helped, after a fashion which encouraged them to -be industrious and self-supporting; others again -received advice in the management of their -families, the treatment of their children, the -choice of trades for their sons, and of service -for their daughters. In a number of humble -homes, and by all the neighbouring settlers, -this gentle, low-voiced woman was regarded as -the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>châtelaine</em></span> of the manor, the good angel of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>the neighbourhood, the personage to whom all -deferred, whose virtues all imitated at a distance, -and whom to disappoint or to pain was a matter -more deeply regretted than the actual shortcoming -which had led to reproof.</p> - -<p class='c017'>And all this work had been done—this -sensible system of true Christian benevolence -and aid was in full flow and operation—without -one word being said by the agents themselves -which gave a hint of the energy, contrivance, -and self-denial manifestly necessary for such -results. All things were done silently, unobtrusively; -no one spoke of them, or seemed to -think them other than matters of course.</p> - -<p class='c017'>This was a phase of colonial life which struck -the eager critic of the new land with something -like dismay. Was it possible in this strange -country that there might be yet other instances -of human love and charity efficiently performed -with equal thoroughness and absence of demonstration? -If so, had she not been making -herself somewhat ridiculous in assuming -hurriedly that there were so many niches in -Australian temples sacred to heroic effort which -were unfilled before she arrived.</p> - -<p class='c017'>In spite of the slight feeling of soreness -which the knowledge caused her, the general -influence of the symposium, separated as she -had been for some weeks from companions of -her own sex and social standing, was unusually -exhilarating. Her naturally genial temperament -led her, therefore, to laugh secretly at her own -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>miscalculation and discomfiture as a very good -and choice joke indeed.</p> - -<p class='c017'>However, she was less explanatory than her -brother had been, preferring inferential admission, -after the manner of her sex. This concession -to the wisdom of the colonists exhibited itself -in unaffected good humour and affectionate -cordiality towards her comparatively recent -friends.</p> - -<p class='c017'>She joined cheerily in all the amusements and -occupations of the evening. She sang and -played, praising the performances of the -Stamford girls and the new songs they had -brought back with them from the metropolis. -She talked flowers and greenhouse with her -hostess, and had a slight political tilt with Mr. -Stamford. In all these subjects she exhibited -sound teaching as well as a careful theoretical -training. Nothing could be more modest -and less assertive than her general manner, at -the same time that a wider range of thought, -consequent upon European travel and extended -social experience, was unconsciously apparent. -When the Windāhgil family retired for the -night, Mr. Stamford expressed his opinion to -his wife, in the sanctity of the matrimonial -chamber, that he had never met a finer girl in -his life before, and that he was delighted that -they should have such a neighbour; while -Hubert, in the smoking-room, whither he had -retired with his young friend at a late period of -the evening, <em>may have</em> meditated upon the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>command “to love thy neighbour as thyself,” -but forbore to commit himself by unguarded -expression.</p> - -<p class='c017'>On the next day, after a mirthful and -consolatory breakfast—a trifle later than usual, -inasmuch as the three maidens sat talking so -late that the morning slumbers were prolonged—the -new neighbours departed. Fresh expressions -of approval and surprise were exhibited -by this English guest at the home-baked -bread, the butter, the honey, the incomparable -home-cured bacon, and other triumphs of -domestic economy.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have enjoyed myself as I never expected -to do in the bush,” she said; “I thought there -would be nothing but devotion to ‘duty, stern -daughter of the voice of God.’ I never -dreamed that so much of the poetry of life -was attainable. You have taught me a lesson” -(this was in confidence to Laura at parting) -“for which I shall be all the better henceforth. -I am not too old or too conceited to learn, at -any rate.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You have nothing very much to learn,” replied -Laura; “we may be mutually advantageous -to one another, that’s all, if we make an agreement -to put as much friendship and as little ceremony -into our intercourse as possible. It will not be -long before we come over to stay a night at -Wantabalree, before poor Hubert starts for -Queensland, I grieve to say, and then you must -comfort us in our loneliness.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>“Papa will be quite charmed to see you -again. If you had heard all the fine things he -said about you and Linda, you would have -thought he was looking out for a step-mamma -for me. But he is purely theoretical in that -department, I am thankful to say, and now -good bye, and <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>au revoir</em></span>!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The promised visit was paid, and a renewal -of friendship and good offices ratified, while the -days passed on and the period of Hubert’s stay -with his family drew near to a close. The -long-expected, long-dreaded day arrived for his -departure to the land of adventure, and, alas! -of danger—it could not be concealed.</p> - -<p class='c017'>All preparations for the momentous event -were at length completed, and once more the -family assembled at the railway terminus at -Mooramah to bid farewell to the son and -brother—the mainstay, the hope of Windāhgil. -Deep and unaffected was the grief, although -outward manifestations were heroically suppressed.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The warning bell sounded, the last adieux -were said, and, as the train moved off, relentless, -irrevocable as fate—the fair summer day -gloomed, while the family party drove sadly -back to their home, from which the sunshine -seemed to have been suddenly withdrawn.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Such are the partings in this world of -chequered joy and sorrow—of light and shadow. -What prayers were that night offered up to the -All-wise Dispenser of events for the safety, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>success, the return—ah, me!—of the absent -wayfarer—for him might the fervid sunbeams of -the inner deserts—be tempered—for him might -the fierce denizens of the wild be placated—for -him might the terrible uncertainty of flood and -field be guided for good! The sisters wept -themselves to sleep in each other’s arms, while -the mother’s face was sad with unuttered grief, -and the father’s brow grave for many a day -after this long-remembered parting.</p> - -<p class='c017'>But Time, the healer, brought to them, as to -others, the successive stages of calm resignation, -of renewed hope. The post brought tidings of -a safely concluded voyage, of accomplished land -travel. At longer intervals, of promising investment, -of successful exploration, of permanent -settlement in the land of promise, of -the occupation of pastures new in a region richly -gifted by nature, and needing but the gradual -advance of civilisation to be promoted to a -profitable and acknowledged status.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Lastly, a despatch arrived of an eminently -satisfactory nature, from Mr. Barrington Hope, -confirming the latest advices from “the wandering -heir.” “Mr. Hubert Stamford had -more than justified all the expectations formed -of his energy and business aptitude. He had -purchased, at a comparatively small outlay, -a lightly-stocked and very extensive station -upon the border of the settled country. Leaving -Mr. Delamere and a manager of proved -ability in charge, he had pushed on, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>after a toilsome journey, happily accomplished -without accident or loss, had discovered and -taken up, under the Queensland regulations, -which are most favourable to pioneers, an -immense tract of well-watered, pastoral country -of the best quality. They had received from -their correspondents the highest commendation -of the value of the property now secured and -registered in the name of Delamere and -Stamford. Windāhgil Downs was a proverb in -the mouths of the pioneer squatters of the -colony, and the Laura and Linda rivers were -duly marked upon the official map at the -Surveyor-General’s office as permanent and -important watercourses.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The Austral Agency Company had the -fullest confidence in the prospects of the firm, -and any reasonable amount of capital would -be forthcoming for necessary expenses in stocking -up and legally occupying the magnificent -tract of pastoral country referred to.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>A private letter accompanied this formally-worded -official communication, informing Mr. -and Mrs. Stamford that the writer proposed -to avail himself of their kind invitation to -visit Windāhgil at Christmas, when he would be -enabled to utilise a long-promised leave of absence -for a few weeks.</p> - -<p class='c017'>It may be imagined, but can with difficulty be -even sketched faintly, with what feelings of joy -and gratitude this precious intelligence was -received at Windāhgil; the happiness, too -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>deep for words, of the parents; the wild, -ecstatic triumph of the sisters; the elation of -the servants and station hands, which communicated -itself to the inhabitants of the surrounding -sub-district, all of whom were included in the -general glory of the event and unfeignedly -happy at the news of Hubert’s brilliant success.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He deserves it all. I never thought but -he’d come to good, and show ’em all the way if -he got a chance,” was the general comment of -the humbler partisans. “He was always the -poor man’s friend, was Master Hubert; and now -he’s going to be at the top of the tree, and it’s -where he ought to be. He’s a good sort, and -always was. There wasn’t a young man within -a day’s ride of Mooramah as was fit to be named -in the same day with him.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! Laura, isn’t it splendid, delicious, -divine?” exclaimed Linda, dancing round her -sister and mother with inexpressible delight. -(Mr. Stamford had retired to compose his feelings -in the garden.) “Oh! dear, this world’s -a splendid place of abode, after all, though I’ve -had terrible doubts lately. Wasn’t it fortunate -we had strength of mind to let dear, darling -Hubert go, though it nearly broke our hearts? -I was certain some of my heart-strings cracked—really -I was—but now I feel better than ever, -quite <em>young</em>, indeed! Oh! how grateful we -ought to be!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You were not the only one who suffered, -were you, dear?” said Laura, looking dreamily -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>into the distance, beyond the gleaming river, -now indeed reduced to nearly its old dimensions. -“Our prayer has been answered. Some -day we shall see our hero returning ‘bringing -his sheaves with him.’ Oh! happy day! Mother, -what shall we do to relieve our feelings? I -feel as if I could not bear it unless we did something.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Suppose we drive over to Wantabalree?” -suggested Linda. “Father always enjoys a chat -with the Colonel, and that dear, good Rosalind is -always so nice and sympathising about Hubert. -I wonder if she cares for him the <em>least little</em> bit? -But she’d die before she let anybody know, and -Hubert was so disagreeable, he refused to give -me the least hint. What do you think, mother?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I think nothing at all, my dear child. In -all these matters, it is the wisest course neither -to think nor to speak prematurely. But I -daresay your father would drive us over, if we -asked him, and we could stay a night there. As -you say, a chat with the Colonel always does -him good.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>So at Windāhgil and Wantabalree the calm, -uneventful bush life went on as usual. That -life so peaceful, so wholesome for the spirit, so -chiefly free from the sharp cares and anxieties of -city existence—where the eye is refreshed daily -with nature pictures, at once grand and consoling. -The early morn, so fair and fresh, when the sun -first glorifies the pale mists of dawn, changing -all the Orient with magic suddenness to opaline -hues and golden flame. The green gloom, the -august solitude of the boundless forest, the glowing -sunshine which pierces even its inmost recesses -at midday; the wavering shadows, born -of the inconstant breeze; the tender eve when -a solemn hush falls alike on stream and valley, -on mountain-side or wildwood glade, and all the -ancient majesty of night awes the senses. For -the Windāhgil family, the placid days came and -went, lightened, as of old, by the regularity of -customary home duties, by books and music, by -walks along the rippling river, by rides and -drives through the winding forest paths. Occasional -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>expeditions to Wantabalree made salutary -change for all. As the summer months wore -on—as the days lengthened, and the mid-day -heat became intense; as the fiercer sun rays -commenced to wither the bush herbage of the -river meadows, the many-hued wild flowers of -heath and hill; as the watercourses, fed by -spring showers, commenced to trickle faintly—there -was a tendency to complain of the tyrant -Summer, and yet to long for the Christmas-tide -as a period of mirth and enjoyment—this year -invested with a special charm.</p> - -<p class='c017'>For had not a telegram from some unknown, -unknowable place, and costing quite a small -fortune, arrived, which stated that Hubert, -the <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>bien aimé</em></span>, would return at Christmas—actually -return? “Like the prodigal,” as Linda -said, “only that it was the reverse in everything -except the coincidence of its being ‘from a far -country.’”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The coincidence being so very slight, Linda,” -said her mother, “perhaps it would have been -as well to refrain from Scriptural parallel altogether. -Don’t you think so, Miss Dacre? I -had given up expecting him after his last letter, -in which he said there were insuperable difficulties -in the way.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He has managed to surmount the insuperable -apparently,” said Linda. “Hubert always -was a wonderful boy for accomplishing things -just at the last moment. I don’t think I ever -knew him beaten by anything he made up his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>mind to do, though he used to leave things -rather too long.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That is one of Hubert’s worst points—or -rather, most pronounced weaknesses,” said -Laura; “he won’t be wise in time except on -what he thinks are occasions of importance. It -seems a defect with people of energy and resource. -For instance, I can’t imagine Hubert -saying he will cross a river or accomplish a -journey and failing to carry out his purpose, -whatever happened. He is one of those people -who seem made for difficulties.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But difficulties which come upon the unprepared -are apt to be disastrous,” said Miss -Dacre; “for my part, I am strongly in favour -of taking every imaginable precaution before -the time of need.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The principle is good, but it doesn’t apply -to Hubert,” said Linda, still unconvinced. -“Difficulties and impossibilities only stimulate -his resources, which are innumerable. When -another man would lie down and die, he -would be quite in his element, ordering, inventing, -combining, and finally pulling through -triumphantly.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It must be interesting to watch such a <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>tour -de force</em></span>,” said Miss Dacre; “but I prefer the -generalship which surveys the field, and places -the battle in advance. Hit or miss, conquerors -find their Moscow some day.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Hubert has made a glorious campaign this -time,” said Laura. “What a day of days it will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>be when he shows his brown face at Mooramah -again! Doesn’t it seem an age since he went -away, Rosalind?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am sure papa and Willoughby will be -very glad to see him again,” said she. “I -know they wish to have his advice about the -sheep and the season. They are getting quite -anxious.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>No! The engine did not break down. The -steamer with the Chinese name, from the far -north, the <em>Ly-wang-foo</em>, did not founder or take -fire. The floods did not sweep away the railway -bridges. There was not even an earthquake. -All these phenomena and abnormal occurrences -were, in Linda’s opinion, almost certain to -happen because Hubert was coming home to -spend Christmas with the family, and envious -Fate would be certain to interfere. Everything -had gone so prosperously hitherto that Destiny -must be propitiated by sacrifice. Mr. Barrington -Hope was coming up also, as he had looked -forward to a holiday—of course <em>he</em> would be -disappointed, and so on.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Wonderful to relate, a few days before Christmas, -again the family trap was in requisition, -driven by one of the boys.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The door of the first-class carriage -opened, and a bronzed, Indian-officer-looking -man stepped out. The boys at first did not -know him. But when a tall, broad-shouldered -gentleman, who followed him, proposed to send -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>a porter for their luggage, the younger boy -shouted out—“Why, it’s Hubert! Hubert! -What a lark! We didn’t know him. Why -you <em>have</em> changed! You’re ever so much -thinner, and your eyes are larger, and your face -browner. What have you done to yourself? -We’ve come for you and Mr. Hope. Is this -him?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, this is he, Master Maurice. Your -grammar appears to have stood still, though you -have grown such a big fellow. See about the -luggage, and have it put in the buggy; it will -hold it all, unless it has got smaller. Well, -how are mother and father and Laura, and -Linda, and Waterking, and everybody? Why -didn’t they come?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well—they thought they’d be hugging you -before all the people, and they’d better wait and -do it at home. So they sent me and Val with -the buggy. You’d better drive.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That is my intention, Maurice. I prefer to -drive, though I know you can handle the reins. -But tell me about Windāhgil. What is the -grass like? Had much rain?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Only enough for sprinkling the garden -these three months. I heard old Jerry, the -shepherd, tell Paddy Nolan that he thought it -was going to set in dry—the west wind was -always blowing. <em>We’ve</em> lots of feed yet.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Old Jerry is a good judge of the weather at -Mooramah; he’s been watching it these fifty -years. And how are they at Wantabalree?”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>“Very poor, almost starving.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What?” said Hubert. And then laughing -at the boy’s strictly pastoral ideas, he said—“You -mean the sheep in the paddocks, I -suppose.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, of course; they’re getting as bare as -your hand. What they’ll do with all those -sheep in another month or two nobody knows. -Half of ’em’ll die before winter.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You seem to take a practical view of -things, Maurice,” said Mr. Hope. “Are matters -as bad as all that?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, I’m about a good deal, and I can’t -help seeing. It’s a pity, too; they’re so nice, all -of them.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert at home again! After all the doubts, -fears, delays. Maurice had not exaggerated the -amount of hugging, as he disrespectfully expressed -it, which the returning hero had to -undergo, and which would probably have created -a stoppage on Mooramah platform. Mr. Hope -stood by with a tolerant air, and even made -some light remark to Miss Dacre as to their -being left out of the extremely warm greetings -which prevailed. A very short time, however, -was suffered to elapse before all due apologies -were made to their guests, and the cordiality of -Laura’s manner perhaps caused Barrington -Hope to overlook any overweening measure of -love bestowed upon the long-absent brother.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“How her eyes sparkled, how her cheek -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>glowed, how she seemed to devour the young -fellow with her eyes!” he said to himself. And -he argued favourably, knowing something of -womankind, of the probable devotion to her -husband should she ever condescend to endow -mortal man with that supreme and sacred -title.</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was in vain to expect much general conversation -that day. If the visitors had been less -sympathetic persons they might easily have been -aggrieved at the predominance of Hubert’s -personal adventures, opinions and experiences in -all subsequent intercourse.</p> - -<p class='c017'>For the moment, everybody thought him -much altered and changed, wasted even in -frame, sunburned, blackened by exposure, but, -on the whole, improved. There was a determination -in his expression which had not so -habitually marked his features before—a look as -of a man who has confronted the grim hazards -of the waste—who has dared the odds which in -the desert land of the savage are arrayed against -him; dared them only to conquer. It was the -face of the conscript after the campaign and -the battle-field. If there was less than the old -measure of schoolboy gaiety and frolicsome -spirits, there was an added infusion of the -dignity of the man.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Then his adventures. He must relate some -of them. Even Miss Dacre joined in this -request. Like the knife-grinder, “story he had -none to tell,” but could not escape owning to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>having been laid up in a bark hut with fever and -ague, that had pulled him down so; nearly -drowned in crossing a flooded river; had a -brush with the blacks, who rose up from the -tall grass all round him; horse speared under -him, and so on. All this, though Hubert made -light of it with characteristic modesty, seemed -to his hearers of the nature of thrilling and -exciting romance.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Hubert must feel like a troubadour of the -Middle Ages,” said Linda, “reciting before the -lady of the castle and her maidens. It must -have been an awful temptation to improvise -situations, and I dare say they did. Fancy if we -had no books, and were dependent entirely upon -wandering minstrels!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It mightn’t be altogether such a bad thing, -Miss Linda,” said Barrington Hope. “A -handsome young troubadour would be more -entertaining than a dry book, or even an -indifferent novel.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It wouldn’t be such a bad trade for the -unemployed,” said Laura; “but I suspect -neither their manners nor their education would -be found suitable.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Some of the swagmen in Queensland would -fill the requirements so far,” said Hubert. “I -have seen more than one ‘honourable’ on the -tramp. Only it would not do to trust them -too near the sideboard.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a pathetic picture,” said Miss Dacre; -“fancy the son of a peer trudging along the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>road, with his knapsack on his back, actually -begging from door to door!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It is not regarded as begging in outside -country,” said Hubert. “It is the recognised -mode of locomotion for labourers and artisans.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And can they not procure steady employment?” -said Miss Dacre, in a tone of deep -anxiety. “Surely it only needs some one to take -an interest in them, and give them good advice. -Now, don’t smile in that provoking way, Mr. -Stamford, or I shall think you have brought -back unimpaired one of your least amiable -traits.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Forgive me, Miss Dacre, for presuming on -my part to hint that you do not appear to -be cured of what I supposed you would have -learned by this time to distrust—an unlimited -trust in your less favoured fellow creatures. -The men of whom I speak live at free quarters -when they travel, are occasionally received on -equal terms, and are paid, when they condescend -to do work, at the ordinary high rate of wages, -viz., from thirty shillings to two pounds per -week, with board and lodging.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And are they not encouraged to save this? -They could soon put by quite a small fortune.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Their misfortune is that they never <em>do</em> save. -They invariably gamble or drink—generally the -latter—till all is gone. Once lapsed, they follow -the habits of the uneducated working man with -curious fidelity.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a terrible condition! What a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>terrible country where such things can take -place!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“On the contrary; it is the best land attainable -by the confirmed prodigal. In England, -I take it, the dissipated, improvident men of -their order go rapidly and thoroughly to the -bad, passing swiftly out of knowledge. Here -they have intervals of wholesome labour and -compulsory sobriety, which recruit the constitution -and give them opportunity for repentance, -if they ever <em>do</em> repent.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>While this conversation was proceeding, Mr. -Stamford and Barrington Hope had been having -a quiet semi-business talk, and this being concluded, -Miss Dacre was persuaded to open the -piano, after which Mr. Hope gave them some -of the latest <cite>Parsifal</cite> morceaux fresh from -Bayreuth, where he had a musical correspondent, -having spent there some of the days of his -youth. Music now absorbed all attention for -the rest of the evening, everybody being more -or less of an amateur; and even Hubert showing -that he had not been wholly without the -region of sweet sounds by bringing back and -displaying two new songs.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Who played the accompaniments for you, -Hubert?” said Linda. “Somebody did, or -you couldn’t have learnt them so well.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Do you suppose there are no ladies in the -‘Never-Never’ country?” said he. “Quite a -mistake. People of culture abound.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The next day was adjudged by common consent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>to be spent at Wantabalree. Miss Dacre -was anxious to get home, and would by no -means consent to stay another day at Windāhgil. -Mr. Hope thought he would like to see Wantabalree, -of which celebrated station he had heard -so much, and to pay his respects to the Colonel. -So it was arranged that Hubert should drive -Miss Dacre and Linda, while Laura went under -Mr. Hope’s guidance in the Windāhgil trap. -Mr. and Mrs. Stamford elected to stay at home -to take care of the house, and talk quietly over -Hubert’s return, personal appearance, prospects, -and generally interesting belongings.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Arrived at Wantabalree, the Colonel met -them with his usual courteous and hospitable -manner. He congratulated Hubert on his safe -return from Queensland, and hoped he had not -taken up all the good country, as it seemed to -him that other people would have to migrate, if -the season did not improve.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not for another year or two, Colonel, at -any rate,” said Hubert, cheerily; “you’ve -plenty of water here, and Willoughby must -do a little ‘travelling’; anything’s better than -throwing up the sponge.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I see little else for it,” said the Colonel, -who had come to wear an anxious expression. -Miss Dacre grew grave as she marked her -father’s face, but she controlled herself with an -effort, as it seemed to Hubert, and telling Linda -to go into the drawing-room and admire her -flowers, followed her guests. The men remained -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>outside and lounged into the stable yard, -where the horses and traps were being arranged, -looking about them, and chatting on indifferent -subjects before going to the house.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a pretty situation you have here!” -said Hope. “The accomplished Mr. Dealerson, -of whom I have heard so much, must have been -a man of taste. How picturesquely the creek -winds round the point near that splendid willow; -the elevation is just sufficient, and the flat seems -made on purpose for a few fields and the fruit-garden. -The view of the distant mountain-range -completes the landscape. Capital stabling -too.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! confound him!” growled Willoughby; -“he was sharp enough to see that a smart -homestead like this was just the thing to catch -‘new-chum’ buyers. It’s not bad in its way, -but I hate the whole thing so, when I think of -the price we shall have to pay for it, that I -could burn the house down with pleasure.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t know so much about that,” said -Hope; “it doesn’t do to be hasty in realising -in stock matters any more than in purchasing. -You and Hubert had better have a good talk -over accounts before I leave, and if he can -suggest anything, perhaps we may manage to -tide over for a while. He’s quite a rising man -of business, I assure you.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I wish to heaven the governor had remained -in Sydney with my sister, and sent me out to -Queensland with him,” said the young man; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>“but it’s too late to think of that now. We -must make the best of it. But I won’t stand -grumbling here all day, Mr. Hope. Come in -and we’ll see if there’s any lunch to be had. -‘Sufficient for the day,’ and so on?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert had found his way into the drawing-room -before this colloquy had ended, and was -looking over a collection of Venetian photographs -which Miss Dacre had collected during -their last visit to that city of the sea.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I wonder if I shall ever see the Lion of St. -Mark again?” she said. “I feel as if we were -in another planet.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It is difficult to say where we shall all be in -a few years’ time,“ said Hubert. ”<em>I</em> am not -going to stay here all my life. But you won’t -run away from Australia just yet, Miss Dacre?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I should think not,” she replied, cheerfully; -“matters don’t look like it at present. The -doubt in my mind is whether we shall ever be -able to leave it. I don’t say that I am dissatisfied, -but I should like to see the Old World -again before I die.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“When Willoughby has made his fortune, or -other things come to pass, you will be able to -go home and do all sorts of fascinating travel,” -said Hubert. “We must look forward.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I feel certain you are not laughing at me, -Mr. Stamford,” she said, fixing her eyes upon -him with a wistful expression; “but if I did -not know you so well I should suspect it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Nothing, of course, is farther from my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>thoughts,” said the young man, meeting the -gaze with equal directness; “but I really see -no reason to doubt your seeing Europe within -the next five years, so many changes take place -in this Australian world of ours.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Hardly such a change as that,” she replied, -smiling apparently at the absurdity of the idea; -“and now I think I hear the luncheon bell. -You must have thought I meant to starve you -all.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>That no intention of this kind had actuated -the fair hostess was made apparent as they were -ushered into the dining-room, a large and -handsome apartment wherein the furniture and -appointments were in keeping with the general -plan of the house. Everybody was in capital -spirits; youth and hope were in the ascendant -in the majority of the party, and as their conversation -became general, everybody seemed as -joyous as if Wantabalree were the best paying -and the most fortunate station in the district.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a lovely place this is altogether!” -said Linda. “Mr. Dealerson must have had -some good in him after all. If father and -Hubert had not been so prejudiced against him, -he might have married and settled in the district. -I believe he’s not so bad-looking.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I should never have come to see you, for -one,” said Hubert, “if you had been the lucky -girl that carried off such a prize. But I should -like to have condemned him to work out this -place, with its present stock, in a dry season; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>that would have been a truly appropriate punishment -for his iniquities. The ancients used to -think of fitting fellows in another world in their -own line. But this savours of shop. Willoughby, -did you get any snipe this spring?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Made two or three capital bags, but they -went off as soon as the weather got dry. Hares -are getting plentiful too, and I was going to get -up a couple of greyhounds, but all that sort of -thing’s knocked on the head now.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! nonsense; you mustn’t give up your -shooting. ‘Never allow your business to interfere -with your pleasure’; we have little enough -recreation in Australia. You should have -seen the brown quail in the Mitchell grass in our -new country. I used to put up bevies of them -looking like partridges. I must take some -setters up next time.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Isn’t the heat very dreadful up there?” -inquired Miss Dacre.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Rather tropical,” said Hubert; “but there -is a freshness in the air that carries you through. -The mosquitoes and sandflies, are perhaps the -worst evils. But with a good pisé house, which -you could shut up and keep cool, they might be -greatly reduced.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Then the blacks; they seem nearly as bad -as the North American Indians?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Not quite. I suspect ‘Sitting Bull’ or -‘Red Cloud’ would have given us a deal more -trouble. Not but what we have to be careful. -The best way, I find, is to treat them with perfect -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>justice, to keep your word with them for -good or evil. They learn to respect you in the -end. After a while we shall have no trouble -with them.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>During the afternoon, which was devoted to -nothing in particular, a very agreeable arrangement -which leaves guests at liberty to amuse -themselves as they feel inclined, Hubert found -himself in Miss Dacre’s company at the end of -the lower walk of the orchard which followed -the winding bank of the creek.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The bank was high at this particular spot, -having been partially worn away by flood waters, -leaving a wide, low shore at the opposite side. -A deep pool had been formed, which now -gleamed and sparkled in the lowered sun -rays. A grand weeping-willow, self-planted, -perhaps, in the earliest days of the occupation -of the station, shaded it with trailing green -streamers.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Wantabalree is certainly the show station of -the district,” said Hubert. “You were fortunate -in some respects in having so pleasant a -home in which to make your first Australian -experiences.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have been very happy here,” said she; -“but that will make it all the more painful to -leave, as I fear we shall be obliged to do at no -distant period. I do not so much care for my -own sake, but it will be discouraging to -Willoughby, and my father is certain to feel -the change more than any of us.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>“Matters look bad, and we are going to -have another dry season, I believe,” replied -Hubert. “I don’t like these westerly winds, -and clouds coming up without rain. Still there -is hope.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“But had we not a drought two years before—just -before my father made this purchase?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Quite true, but of late years, unfortunately, -that has been no reason why another should not -follow in quick succession. It is rather unfair of -<em>Madre Natura</em>, but there is no help for it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And what shall you do at Windāhgil, for I -suppose we shall all be in the same boat?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall persuade my father to start every -sheep he has, with the exception of the best -flock, for my new country. The Wantabalree -sheep had better take the road too. I must -have a talk to Willoughby.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh, I do so wish you would, Mr. Stamford. -I am sure he and papa are growing very troubled -about our prospects. Willoughby and I can -bear all that may come, but it will be a terrible -blow to poor papa.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Miss Dacre, if you will permit me to confide -in you—I have been concocting a little plot. -If carried out it may—I say only it may—perhaps -serve to improve the aspect of things. -If you thought the Colonel would like to -consult with me and Willoughby about the -coming difficulty, I should be very glad to -make the attempt.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Nothing would give my father more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>pleasure, and, indeed, tend to relieve his mind. -I feel certain he has been anxious to consult -you, Mr. Stamford, but hardly likes to begin -the subject.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We must have a council of war then, -which will include Mr. Barrington Hope. -He is a tower of strength, as I know by experience, -and it’s a piece of luck his being here -now.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We should be grateful to you all the days -of our lives, you may be sure, whatever happens, -for the interest you have always shown in our -welfare. If your advice had been taken in the -first instance, all would have been well.” And -here the young lady looked at Hubert with such -an approving expression of countenance, that -he felt as if he could throw up the new country -and devote himself to the Sisyphean task of -getting Wantabalree out of debt, if only she -would promise to repay him by an occasional -smile such as this one, the memory of which he -felt certain would haunt him for an indefinite -period.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I can’t, of course, guarantee success, but -I think I see my way towards lightening the -ship and getting steerage way on her.” This -nautical simile had probably been derived from -his late maritime experiences, and was, perhaps, -not altogether appropriate; but Miss Dacre -was evidently not by any means in a critical -frame of mind, for she again looked approvingly -at him, and then led the way to the verandah, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>where Laura and Willoughby, Mr. Hope and -Linda, were apparently having such an animated -conversation that they seemed to be trying who -could make the most noise.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The principal contention was whether a town -or country life was the more wholesome and -enjoyable. Laura and Willoughby were in -favour of rural felicity, while Linda and Mr. -Hope brought all the arguments they could -think of in favour of cities—greater stimulation -of the intellect, removal of prejudice, leaning -towards altruism; in fact, higher general development -of the individual. When Miss -Dacre arrived, she, being appealed to, in the -capacity of referee, unhesitatingly gave her -decision in favour of a country life, stating her -arguments so clearly that she completely turned -the scale, besides causing Hubert the keenest -enjoyment by, as he supposed, thus laying bare -her own predilections.</p> - -<p class='c017'>After this contest of wits the Colonel appeared -on the scene, having returned from his -usual afternoon’s ride; and Hubert, with some -address, managed to interest him in a discussion -on station management, and the probable profits -of agriculture, listening with deference to his -senior’s ideas and suggestions.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Before the Windāhgil party returned on -the following day a council of war was held, -at the conclusion of which the Colonel’s face -assumed a very different expression from that -which it habitually wore. The four men met -in his study, where the accounts, assets, and -liabilities were laid before the financial authority, -who scanned them with keen and practised -eye.</p> - -<p class='c017'>After what appeared to the others, and -especially to Willoughby and his father, an -astonishingly short examination, he raised his -head and asked these pertinent questions: “I -see your next bill, £12,437 14<em>s.</em> 10<em>d.</em>, falls due -in March,” he said. “After that, there is -nothing more to be met but station expenses -for another year, against which there will, of -course, be the wool clip. You have 54,786 -sheep, more or less, on the run. Is that so?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Half of which are to die this winter, -Hubert says. Oh, yes—they’re all in the -paddocks,” replied the younger Dacre, in a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>tone of reckless despair, while the Colonel’s -face set with steadfast resolve, yet showed by -the twitching of his lips how severe was the -repression of feeling—how tense the strain of -anxiety.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Never mind about that just yet,” said -Barrington Hope. “We’ll see into the available -assets first. About this next bill, Colonel; -how do you propose to meet it?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“By the sale of sheep, I suppose. There is -no other way. And if this drought comes to -pass I am informed they will be next to valueless. -How is the next one—of equal amount, -and another still, to be paid? In such a case -I see nothing but ruin staring me in the face. -Good God! that I should have brought my -poor children to such a pass!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Here the brave soldier, who had fought with -cheerful courage on more than one battle-field, -when comrades lay dead and dying around him—who -had been the first man across the breach -when the rebel artillery were mowing down his -regiment like swathes of meadow grass at Delhi, -appeared quite unmanned.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It will never do to give up the fight before -the end of the day, Colonel,” said Mr. Hope, -gently. “As a military man, you must know -that reserves may come up at any moment. I -will promise to give you a decided answer at the -end of our colloquy. But we must move -according to the rules of war.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You must pardon me, my dear sir,” said -<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>the Colonel, with a faint smile. “I trust not -to embarrass the court again; but the fact is, I -am a child in commercial affairs, and the probable -loss of my children’s whole fortune touches -me too acutely.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Have <em>you</em> any advice to offer, Hubert?” -queried Hope. “I understand we are all here -on terms of friendly equality.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Yes, I have,” said the young man, with an -air of decision. “You can judge of its value. -All the Windāhgil sheep, with the exception of -a couple of flocks of studs, start for our Queensland -country in January. The dry belt likely -to be affected by the coming drought is a narrow -one not more than two hundred miles wide, and -as the sheep are fairly strong now, though they -won’t remain so, they should cross that with -trifling loss. Donald Greenhaugh, a first-class -man, has agreed to go in charge. Sheep are -sheep over there now for stocking up new -country, and we can sell to advantage what we -do not want for Windāhgil Downs. The larger -the number sent in one overland journey like -this, the smaller the expense of droving per -head. I propose that Wantabalree should be -cleared in the same way. Willoughby can go -in charge of his own sheep, and we can share -the expense.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I see nothing to prevent your idea from -being carried out,” said Mr. Hope. “I am -aware that sheep of good quality, as the Wantabalree -sheep proverbially are, are scarce, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>saleable at high rates, in the new country. The -main thing will be to have a first-class road -overseer.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Greenhaugh has been out with an exploring -party over all that country,” said Hubert; -“and as a head drover is worth his weight in -gold. A sober, steady fellow, too, and a good -hand with men. No better bushman anywhere.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’m ready to start next week,” said -Willoughby, with the fire of ardent youth in -his kindling eye. “I never expected to have -such a chance. But—” and here his face -became grave and thoughtful—“what do you -say, father? Will you and Rosalind be able -to get on without me?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We must try, my boy. The time will -pass heavily, I doubt not; but,” and here he -walked over to Hubert, and put his hand on -his firm shoulder, “your father did not grudge -you in the path of honourable ambition, nor -can I be more selfish. God bless you both, my -boys! and bring you safe back once more to -gladden our hearts. It seems to me as if -Providence had decided this issue, and that I -have little hand in it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I wish now to understand, Colonel Dacre,” -said Hope; “if, upon their arrival in Queensland, -you will place 20,000 sheep in our hands -for sale—at such prices as may be then ruling—and -whether by the terms of your mortgage to -Mr. Dealerson—who has of course, taken care -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>to tie you up as tightly as he could—you have -the power of disposing of so many.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It so happens that I have permission to -reduce the stock—I believe that’s the expression—by -just such a number,” said the Colonel -more cheerfully; “and I most willingly invest -you with the power of disposing of them.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Then I will take upon myself to state that -the Austral Agency Company will guarantee to -take up your bill next coming due, and to -provide you with funds to carry you over the -next shearing, when we may perhaps make a -more complete and satisfactory arrangement.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The Colonel gazed at Mr. Hope with an -expression as of one not fully realising the effect -of the words he heard with his outward ears. -Then suddenly stepping forward, he stretched -out his hand, and taking that of the younger -man wrung it silently.</p> - -<p class='c017'>He retreated to his chair, where he sat down -with an expression of relief too deep for words. -He then left, apparently, all further transactions -of the interview in the hands of the “coming -race.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>They began to go into detail a little, as if -about <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>un fait accompli</em></span>, Hubert, more particularly, -talking rapidly, in order to cover any appearance -of awkwardness on the part of his hosts.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You know,” he said, “that by doing this -travelling business, we ‘hedge,’ so to speak, -instead of standing to lose on the double event -of a dry season and a panic in the money market, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>more than any of us can afford. If the weather -breaks in February, of course we needn’t have -started, but we can’t lose anything, as our sheep -will be regularly run after when we get them -over, and at high prices too. They talk of -maiden ewes being worth a pound from the -shears, and anything else fifteen shillings, while -if it holds dry for three or four months here, -sheep will have to be given away, or next thing -to it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I suppose I shall have to hire a lot of shepherds,” -said Willoughby; “that will be a nuisance, -won’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If I were you I’d leave all that to Greenhaugh; -he’s accustomed to these fellows, and -knows how to talk to them on the road, which -you don’t. You’d better, ostensibly, be second -in command of the expedition. You won’t have -much responsibility, and will be able to pick up -heaps of experience. All you will have to find -will be your own horses. He’ll arrange everything -else and keep the accounts of rations and -wages, which you and I can settle when you -get there.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I suppose there’s a strong probability of a -drought setting in,” said Mr. Hope; “if not, -you will be rather premature.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The more I see of the weather signs, the -more certain I am that we are on the edge of -another drought, perhaps worse than the last,” -said Hubert. “You’ll see that a great many -people will hang on, expecting it to break up; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>then, making sure of getting the ‘tail end’ of -the tropical rains, and generally trusting to the -doctrine of chances until their sheep get too -weak to travel, and then—--”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And what then?” asked Willoughby. “I -haven’t had the pleasure of witnessing a dry -season as yet.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert smiled grimly. “You will thank -your stars the Wantabalree sheep cleared -out in time. You would never have forgotten -it as long as you lived. Some squatters will -lose half their stock, some two-thirds, some -even more. A man told me he lost a hundred -thousand sheep in the last drought. But <em>he</em> could -afford it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“If it’s going to be so bad, what will your -governor and mine do with the sheep we leave -behind, for we must leave some.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They will have all the grass and water to -themselves, which will give them a chance, and -then, if it gets very cruel, they must cut scrub -and oak for them.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Cut the trees down!” said Willoughby, -with astonishment. “I never heard of such a -thing!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You’ll find out everything in time,” said -Hubert. “‘The brave old oak’ has an antipodean -signification here. I don’t know what we -should do without him in a dry time. I’ve -known sheep kept in good condition that hadn’t -seen grass for eighteen months.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Before the drive back, which took place after -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>lunch, in the midst of pathetic leave-takings -between the Windāhgil girls and Miss Dacre, -the latter young lady took an opportunity of -expressing to Hubert her sincere gratitude for his -organisation of the opportune alliance which was, -so to speak, to raise the siege of Wantabalree.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It has made dearest papa quite young again,” -she said. “For weeks he has not been able to -sleep at night, but used to get up and go wandering -up and down the garden. I really began -to fear for his reason. And now he seems quite -a different man. I am so happy myself at the -change for the better, that I cannot feel properly -sorry that dear Willoughby is going away from -us.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“He is going among friends, at any rate, -Miss Dacre,” said Hubert, pressing the young -lady’s hand warmly in the agitation of the -moment. “He will be well looked after, rely -upon it. I feel certain it will be for everybody’s -benefit in the long run.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I shall always think that you and that good -genius, Mr. Hope, have stood between us and -ruin,” said she, and here her bright, steadfast -eyes were somewhat dimmed. “If papa does -not say all that is in his heart, believe me that -we are not ungrateful.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“<em>Nothing</em> could ever lead me to think that,” -said Hubert meeting her eyes with a glance -which expressed more than that simple sentence, -if freely translated. “Whatever happens, I am -more than repaid by your approval.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>By this time Whalebone and Whipcord, -harnessed up and having their heads turned -homeward, began to exhibit signs of impatience, -which caused Linda to call out to Hubert that -she was sure Whipcord would throw himself -down and break the pole if they didn’t start at -once, which appalling contingency cut short the -interview, to Hubert’s secret indignation. This -expressed itself in letting them out with a will -and quitting Wantabalree at the rate of fourteen -miles an hour.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Some people would have felt nervous at proceeding -along a winding, narrow bush road, -well furnished with stumps, at such an express -train rate, but the sure hand and steady eye of -Hubert Stamford, in combination with the light -mouths and regular if speedy movement of the -well-matched horses, engendered the most absolute -confidence in his driving.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What do you think of bush life generally, -Mr. Hope?” said Laura—after the first rush of -the excitable goers had steadied into a twelve-mile-an-hour -trot—“and how do you like -Wantabalree?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I think the Wantabalree people perfect in -their own way, worthy to be neighbours of -Windāhgil,” he added with a slight inclination -of his head. “A man could live there very -happily, ‘with one fair spirit to be his minister,’ -if Miss Dacre would condescend to the office. -It’s a lovely verandah to read in. It would be -like the days of Thalaba, while it lasted.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>“And why should it not last?” demanded -Laura. “The bush appears to me the place of -all others where the feelings and emotions are -the most permanent and deep-seated.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Barrington Hope fixed his eyes upon her as -she spoke with a gaze wistful and almost -melancholy in its earnestness.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Can anything endure that is fair, joyous, -dreamlike, in this uncertain life of ours?” he -said. “Is the ideal existence realised for most -of us, or, if so, does it continue? You are -more fortunate than I in your experiences, if -such is your belief.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Surely you have no reason to talk of -despondency,” said she, turning towards him -her bright face, in which the summer-time -seemed idealised. “You, who have made a -success in your profession, and whom everybody -talks of with—with, I won’t say admiration, it -might make you conceited—but high approval.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have done fairly well, I <em>suppose</em>,” he said. -“I may take it as the natural consequence of -twenty years’ hard, unrelieved work. I have -coined my brain, my very heart’s blood, for it; -and I will not say but that I have had my -reward in a proved success and high consideration. -But, at times, a feeling comes over me of -unrest and of doubt, well-nigh despair, as to the -reality of human happiness—the value of success—against -which I can scarcely defend -myself.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“You have been working too hard lately. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>Reaction has set in. In old days Hubert used -to suffer so, occasionally doubting whether life -was worth living, &c. But with men it is -generally a temporary ailment. You must take -life easily for the next few weeks, and, like the -old farm labourer in the village church, ‘think -about nothing’—Linda and I must cultivate -part-singing, and improve our acquaintance with -Wagner, now that we have the benefit of your -criticism.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It is a passing weakness, I suppose,” he -said; “still, you would wonder at its intensity. -But I didn’t come here to bore you with my -whims and fancies. One thing I shall carry -away as a pleasant souvenir—that Hubert and -I have been able to lighten the load on poor old -Colonel Dacre’s heart.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I <em>am</em> charmed beyond measure,” said Laura. -“Hubert told me something—though he is -such a close creature when he is speaking about -himself that I could get next to nothing out -of him. Willoughby will be able to get the -sheep away to Queensland, I suppose, with ours, -and they may not be ruined after all.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They will have a struggle, but I really -believe the station will pull through with -Hubert’s assistance and advice. If anything -serious does happen at Wantabalree, it will -not be for want of all the aid that an energetic -young friend can furnish. I can see as much as -that.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And so can I,” said Laura; “he could -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>find no better or sweeter reason if he looked for -a century.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Linda and Hubert, according to their wont -and usage, were embarked in such an animated -argument that it is probable they did not hear -this last confidential reference; more especially -as—perhaps for the greater convenience of -separate converse—the speakers’ voices had -become somewhat lowered, and Hubert’s attention -was partly taken up with his horses.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The twenty miles were accomplished in less -than two hours. The horses in as hard condition -upon the now partially-dried summer -grasses as if they had been stabled, apparently -treated the drive as the merest trifle, trotting -off down the paddock, when released from -harness, apparently as free from fatigue as if -they had not gone a mile.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I must say your bush horses surprise me,” -said Mr. Hope. “They are like Arabs of the -desert for speed and hardihood.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“These two are a little out of the common,” -said Hubert; “not plentiful here or anywhere -else.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>The merry Christmastide was nearly spent—a -season fully enjoyed in those newer Englands, -which are growing fast and blooming fair -beneath the Southern Cross, in despite of the -red summer sun, and brown crisp pastures—a -blessed time of rest from toil, “surcease of -sorrow,” gathering of friends and kinsfolk. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>Barrington Hope had thoroughly enjoyed his -holiday; more, he averred than on any previous -vacation of his life. There had been walks, -drives and rides, picnics to the limestone caves -in the vicinity, where vast halls were explored -by the light of torches, stalactites brought home -in triumph, and wondrous depths of gloom and -primæval chaos penetrated; fishing parties on -the river, where, although the water trickled -faintly over the gravelly shallows, the wide -reaches were deep and sport-permitting. Occasional -visits to Mooramah township, their communication -with the outer world, helped to fill up -the term, and drive away the dreadful thought, -uppermost in the hearts of the Windāhgil family, -that Hubert was so soon to leave them for the -far north land.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As soon as Christmas was well over the -serious work of the year—only interrupted by -this “truce of God”—began again with even -greater energy; the industrial battle, never long -pretermitted in Australia, raged furiously. So -there was great mustering on Windāhgil and -Wantabalree. Counting of sheep and tar-branding -of the same with the travelling “T,” -hiring of shepherds and “knock about” men. -Purchase of rations, tools, horses, drays, harness, -hobbles, “bells, bells, bells”—as Linda quoted—in -short, the thousand and one road requisites -for a long overland journey.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Towards the end of January Mr. Donald -Greenhaugh arrived, riding one serviceable horse, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>and leading another, whereon, disposed over a -pack saddle, was all his worldly wealth deposited. -A keen-eyed, mild voiced Scottish-Australian, -sun-bronzed, and lean as an Arab, who looked -as if the desert sun had dried all superfluous -moisture out of his wiry frame, he superintended -the preparations at Windāhgil in a -quiet, superior sort of way, occasionally offering -suggestions, but chiefly leaving Hubert to manage -matters as he thought fit. He also found time -to go over to Wantabalree, where he remained -a week, meeting with apparently greater exercise -for his generalship.</p> - -<p class='c017'>At length the great day of departure arrived. -The first flock of two thousand took the road -through the north Windāhgil gate, followed by -a second, at a decent interval, until the whole -thirty thousand sheep passed out. Next day the -advanced guard of the Wantabalree contingent -showed themselves—Greenhaugh having decided -to keep a day’s march between them. Forty -thousand of these came by. The fat and saleable -sheep of both stations had been retained. After -these had been sold in the autumnal markets -there would be but a small and manageable -balance on either station.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The Colonel came as far as Windāhgil, and -even a stage further, with his daughter, to see -his boy off. They were dreadfully downhearted -and saddened in appearance as they called at -Windāhgil on their homeward route, but cheered -up a little under the attentions of sympathising -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>friends. Hubert had remained behind, not -choosing to follow for another week. He -was already beginning to assume the air of a -large operator and successful explorer. “Greenhaugh -can do all that business as well or better -than I can,” he said. “It’s no use paying a -man and doing the work yourself; I can catch -them up easily before they get to Banda.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Then we might have had Willoughby for -another week,” said Miss Dacre, with a slightly -reproachful air.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I don’t suppose it would have made much -difference,” admitted Hubert; “but it is perhaps -as well that he made the start with the -sheep. He has a larger lot to look after; I -don’t know but that it’s as well to have the -wrench at once, and get it over—like a double -tooth, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It’s the most philosophical way to look -at it,” said the girl, smiling through her tears, -“and no tongue can tell the comfort it has been -to us to know that matters are in a comparatively -favourable train. I must not weary you -with protestations, but papa and I can never -adequately express our gratitude.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That could be done easily enough,” thought -the young man; but he said: “At present it’s -only a case of good intentions; we must wait -to see how they turn out. How will you and -the Colonel get on by yourselves?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Better than I at first thought; Willoughby -left us our working overseer, who will do excellently -<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>to look after a smaller number of sheep. -It will just give papa exercise, and occupation to -help him to manage them, he says. Laura and -Linda must be good neighbours, and perhaps -Mr. Stamford will come over now and then and -indulge papa with a game of whist.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I will undertake everything,” said Hubert, -“for our people, but you and the Colonel must -reciprocate. If both families make common -cause till ‘Johnny comes marching home’—I -mean Willoughby—you will find the time pass -more quickly than you anticipate.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Those last days of a pleasant holiday time, -what an element of sadness pervades them. -How swiftly they fly! Ah, me! The flowers -fade, the sky clouds over as if at the touch of -an untoward magician. The land of faery recedes—the -region of plain prose, of arduous -effort, and heroic but dreary self-abnegation -looms painfully near. Much, however, of this -sombre aspect of the inevitable is relieved in -early youth by the kindly glamour of high -hope, and the ardent imagination of the as -yet successful aspirant. For him the forest -gloom is but the high road to the castle of the -enchanted princess; the sternest tourney is -more than recompensed by the smiles of his -queen of beauty; the burning summer day, the -drear winter night, but aids to fortune and -accessories to boundless wealth.</p> - -<p class='c017'>So, for Barrington Hope and Hubert Stamford, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>the tranquil days came and went, scarce -tinged with melancholy, till the fateful morn of -departure arrived; before noon Windāhgil was -left desolate and forsaken of its heroes. Hubert -fared forth along the north-west trail, bound for -the sea-like plains of the Lower Warroo, where -the wild orange flowers bloom on their lonely -sand islands, bright with glossy-leaved shrubs; -where the emu rears her brood undisturbed -under the sad-hued myall, that waves her -slender streamers and whispers ghost-like at -midnight to the pitiless desert moon.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Barrington Hope, on the other hand, -betook himself by rail to the metropolis, to -plunge once more, with the eagerness of a -strong swimmer, into the great ocean of speculative -finance, which there “heaves and seethes -alway.” But before he departed he had transacted -a rather important interview, in which -Laura Stamford was the person chiefly interested; -had, indeed, promised to revisit -Windāhgil before the winter ended.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Local critics were not lacking around -Mooramah, as in other places. They failed -not to make unfavourable comments upon -Hubert’s decided course of action. They were -pleased to say “that young man was going too -fast”—was leading his father into hazardous -speculations; all this new country that such a -fuss was made about was too far off to pay -interest upon the capital for years and years to -come; the Austral Agency Company had better -mind what they were about, or they would drop -something serious if they went on backing every -boy that wanted to take up outside country, -instead of making the most of what his family -had and helping his parents at home. As for -young Dacre, he would most likely get his sheep -eaten by the blacks and himself speared, as he -knew nothing about the bush, and hardly could -tell the difference between a broken-mouthed -ewe and a weaner. Besides, the season might -“turn round” after all—there was plenty of -time for rain yet. Most likely it would come -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>in February, as it had often done before. -Travelling sheep was a most expensive game, -and you were never done putting your hand in -your pocket.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Thus argued the unambitious, stay-at-home, -easy-going section of society which obtains in -rural Australia in almost the same proportion and -degree that it does in English counties. In the -older-settled portions of the land one may discern -the same tendency to over-crowding the -given area with unnecessary adults, procuring -but a bare subsistence, narrowing with each -generation as in Britain, where sons of proprietors -are too often contented to sink somewhat -in the social scale rather than forego the -so-called “comforts” of civilised life. The -poorly-paid curate, the Irish squireen, “Jock, -the Laird’s brother,” and the French <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>hobereau</em></span>, -so cordially hated by the peasantry before the -Revolution, are examples of this class.</p> - -<p class='c017'>And, in the older-settled portions of Australia -are to be found far too many men of birth and -breeding who are contented to abide in the -enjoyment of the small amenities of country -town life, to sink down to the positions of -yeomen, farmers, and tenants, rather than turn -their faces to the broad desert as their fathers -did before them, and carve out for themselves, -even at the cost of peril and privation, a heritage -worthy of a race of sea kings and conquerors.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert Stamford did not belong, by any -means, to the contented mediocrities. Willoughby -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>Dacre was a kindred spirit. So the two young -men fared cheerfully forth across the dusty, -thirsty zone, beyond which lay the Promised -Land. Hard work and wearisome it was, in a -sense, but held nothing to daunt strong men in -the full vigour of early manhood. The days -were hot, and Willoughby’s English skin peeled -off in patches for the first week or two from the -exposed portions of his person. But cooler airs -came before midnight, and the appetites of both -after long days in the saddle were surprising. -The sheep, being in good condition at starting, -bore the forced marches, which were necessary, -fairly well. Donald Greenhaugh seemed to -know every creek, water-course, and spring in -the whole country. And on one fine day -Willoughby pulled up his horse, and in a tone -of extreme surprise exclaimed, “Why, there’s -grass!” pointing to a fine green tuft of the -succulent <em>Bromus Mitchelli</em>. It was even so. -They had struck the “rain line,” marked as -with a measuring tape. Henceforth all was -peace and plenty with the rejoicing flocks, which -grew strong and even fat as they fed onward -through a land of succulent herbage and full-fed -streams.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Well, Willoughby, old man; what do you -think of this?” asked Hubert one evening, as -they sat on a log before their tent and watched -the converging flocks feeding into camp; marked -also the fantastic summits of isolated volcanic -peaks which stood like watch-towers amid a grass -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>ocean waving billowy in the breeze. “Do you -think we did well to cut the painter? How do -you suppose all these sheep would have looked -at Windāhgil and Wantabalree?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“They’ve had no rain yet,” said Willoughby. -“In that letter I got at the last township we -passed, the governor said there hadn’t been a -shower since I left. It’s nearly three months -now, and we should hardly have had a sheep to -our name by this time.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“There’ll be some awful losses in the district,” -said Hubert. “Men <em>will</em> put off -clearing out till too late. My own idea is that -this will be a worse drought all down the -Warroo than the last one. Our people will -make shift to feed the few sheep we have left, -thank goodness! And we have enough here to -stock more than one run or two either. -Windāhgil Downs will carry a hundred -thousand sheep if it will ten. All we have to -do now is to breed up. That’s plain sailing.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I wish we had some Wantabalree Downs -ready to take up,” said Willoughby, regretfully. -“If we hadn’t those beastly bills yet to pay, we -might have done something in that way too.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Wait till we’ve settled a bit, and have -landed the sheep all safe,” said Hubert. -“That will be stage the first. After we ‘see’ -that, we must ‘go one better.’ Barrington -Hope is a good backer, and outside country is -to be had cheap just now.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Events—in that sort of contrary way which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>occasionally obtains in this world—went far to -justify the bold policy of this confident young -man, who quietly ignored his elders, and to -confound the wise, represented by the cautious -croakers who stayed at home and disparaged -him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>There had occurred a drought of crushing -severity but three years since, and only one -“good”—that is, rainy season had intervened, -so rendering it unlikely, and in a sense unreasonable -and outrageous, as one exasperated impeacher -of Providence averred, that another -year of famine should so soon succeed. -Nevertheless, the rain came not. The long, -hot summer waned. Autumn lingered with -sunny days and cold nights. Winter too, with -hard frosts, with black wailing winds, that -seemed to mourn over the dead earth and its -dumbly dying tribes. <em>But no rain!</em> No rain! -The havoc which then devastated all the great -district watered by the Warroo and its tributaries -was piteous, and terrible to behold.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Rich and poor, small and great, owners of -stock fared alike. A herd of five thousand -head of cattle died on Murragulmerang to the -last beast. Eight thousand at Wando. John -Stokes, Angus Campbell, Patrick Murphy, -struggling farmers, lost every milch cow, every -sheep, every horse. They were too short of cash -to travel. Their small pastures of a few -hundred acres were as dust and ashes. Too -careless to provide a stock of hay and straw, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>selling all when prices were good, and -“chancing it,” they lost hoof and horn. -Mammoth squatters were short—fifty thousand -sheep—seventy thousand—a hundred thousand. -Smaller graziers with fifteen or twenty thousand, -lost two-thirds, three-fourths, four-fifths, as the -case may be. Ruin and desolation overspread -the land. Waggon loads of bales stripped -from the skins of starved sheep—“dead wool” -as it was familiarly called—were seen unseasonably -moving along the roads in all -directions.</p> - -<p class='c017'>From all this death and destruction Hubert’s -family and the Wantabalree people had been -preserved, as they now gratefully remembered, -by his prompt yet well-considered action. -Harold Stamford, as he watched his stud flocks, -fairly nourished and thriving from constant -change of pasture which the empty paddocks -permitted, thanked God in his heart for the son -who had always been the mainstay of his -father’s house, while the Colonel was never -weary of invoking blessings on Hubert’s head, -and wishing that it had been his lot to have -been presented with a Commission in the -Imperial army, in which so bold and cool a -subaltern would have been certain to have distinguished -himself.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Better as it is, father,” said Miss Dacre; -“he might have sold out and lost his money in -a bad station. Except for the honour and glory, -I think squatting is the better profession, after -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>all; if Willoughby only turns out successful, I -shall think Australia the finest country in the -world.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We shall have to live in it, my darling, for -a long time, as far as I see, so we may as well -think so,” said the Colonel. “Suppose we drive -over to Windāhgil, and have another rubber of -whist? Stamford plays a sound game, though -he’s too slow with his trumps; and Laura has -quite a talent for it—such a memory too!”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Many games of whist were played. Much -quiet interchange of hopes and fears, discussions -of small events and occurrences, such as make up -the sum of rural daily life, had taken place -between the two families ere the famine year -ended. It left a trail of ruin, not wholly financial. -Old properties had been sold, high hopes -laid low, never to arise; strong hearts broken. -“Mourning and lamentation and woe” had -followed each month, and still Nature showed no -sign of relenting pity.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Through all this devastation the life of the -dwellers at Windāhgil had been comparatively -tranquil; if not demonstratively joyous, yet free -from serious mishap or anxiety. The tidings -from the far country were eminently satisfactory, -and as regular as circumstances would -permit.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Windāhgil Downs” was quoted as one of -the crack stations of North Queensland, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>and in order to devote his whole attention to -that principality in embryo, Hubert had sold his -share in the first station purchased to Willoughby -on long credit. All the Wantabalree sheep -were there, and doing splendidly. Mr. -Delamere and Willoughby were sworn friends, -and whenever Hubert could get a chance to -“come in” Delamere would take his place at -Windāhgil Downs, and leave Willoughby in -charge at the home station. Added to this, Mr. -Hope had “taken over” the Wantabalree -account, and saw no difficulty in providing for -future payment and working expenses.</p> - -<p class='c017'>This was good news in every sense of the -word. The Colonel became so exceedingly -cheerful and sanguine, that his daughter again -asserted that he must be thinking of a stepmother -for her. In which behalf she implored -Laura and Linda to continue their complaisance -towards him, lest he should in despair go farther -afield, and so be appropriated by some enterprising -“daughter of Heth.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That is all very well,” said Linda; “I suppose -it’s a quiet way of warning us off. But -here we are living in a kind of pastoral -nunnery, with no society to speak of, and -nothing to do. The atmosphere’s pervaded -with <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>bouquet de merino</em></span>, for though ours are all -right, I feel certain I can catch the perfume of -Mr. Dawdell’s dead sheep across the river. -Now, why shouldn’t I take compassion on the -Colonel? I like mature men, and can’t bear -<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>boys. I should rather enjoy ordering a superior -girl like you about. Wouldn’t it be grand, -Laura?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have no doubt Rosalind will grant you -her full permission,” said Laura, “if you think -such a little chit as you is likely to attract -a man like Colonel Dacre.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Little chit, indeed!” said Linda, indignantly. -“That’s the <em>very reason</em>. It would be my youth, -and freshness, and general stupidity (in the ways -of the world) that would attract him. Oh, dear! -think of the white satin, too! I should look so -lovely in white satin with a Honiton lace veil -and a train.” Then Linda began to walk up -and down the room in a stately manner, which -created a burst of laughter and general hilarity.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Now that fortune had taken it into her head -to be kind, she, like other personages of her sex, -became almost demonstrative in her attentions. -Every letter from Queensland contained news of -a gratifying and exhilarating nature. Hubert -had heard of some “forfeited” country, of -which he had informed Willoughby, who, -having gone out with the requisite number of -sheep, blackfellows, and shepherds, had “taken it -up.” He expected in a year or so to sell a -portion of it, there being about a thousand -square miles altogether, and thus help to clear -off the Wantabalree account. As soon as they -got it into working order they would sell -Delamere and Dacre’s home station, with twenty -thousand sheep, and put all their capital into -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>Glastonbury, as Mr. Delamere had chosen to -name the new property.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Hubert had several times been offered a high -price for Windāhgil Downs, but he was not -disposed to sell on any terms, being bent on -stocking it up and improving it, so as fully to -develop its capacity. “Some day, when the -projected railway from Roma comes through, -we’ll have a syndicate formed to buy it,” -Hubert said. “In the meantime, there’s a few -thousand acres of freehold to pick up round old -Windāhgil.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“All this was very well,” said the dwellers in -the old homes; “but were the young men going -to stay away for ever? They might just as -well be in England. Surely, now that the season -had changed and everything was going on so -prosperously, they could afford two or three -months’ time to see their relatives.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>This view of the case was pressed upon -Hubert’s attention in several of Laura’s letters. -Linda went so far as to threaten that she would, -in default of Hubert’s paying attention to her -next letter, invent an admirer of distinguished -appearance for Miss Dacre, which harrowing -contingency might serve to bring back the -wanderer.</p> - -<p class='c017'>But there be many important, and, indeed, indispensable -duties in new country. Men are -scarce. Responsibilities are heavy. Risks abound. -The captain and the first mate cannot leave the -ship, be the inducements ever so great, until the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>anchor is down. Some day, however, the commander -dons his shore-going “togs,” frock coat, -tall hat, gloves, and all the rest of it, and goes -in for a little well-earned enjoyment.</p> - -<p class='c017'>So, as again the summer days drew near, word -came that matters had so moulded themselves -that Hubert and Willoughby were on the homeward -track. The “home station” of Delamere -and Dacre had been sold to Messrs. Jinks and -Newboy with thirty-three thousand sheep at a -satisfactory price (<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>vide</em></span> the <em>Aramac Arrow</em>), as -the energetic proprietors had concluded to concentrate -their capital upon their magnificent -newly taken up property of Glastonbury.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Delamere was to locate himself thereon, -in the absence of his partner, while Donald -Greenhaugh would be left in charge of Windāhgil -Downs, now pretty well in working order. -Hubert and Willoughby would come down from -Rockhampton by steamer to Sydney, and might -be expected to be home in a month or six weeks -at farthest. This promise they faithfully carried -out, and by a remarkable coincidence, Mr. -Barrington Hope arranged to have a short -holiday, and come up to Windāhgil with them.</p> - -<p class='c017'>There <em>is</em> a little true happiness in the world, -however hard-hearted materialists and cynical -poets affect to deny the fact. There might have -been an approximation in other young persons’ -lives; to the state of blissful content in which -the two families were steeped to the lips on the -arrival of the long-absent heroes, but no conceivable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>satisfaction here below could have exceeded -it.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The Colonel kept walking round his son, -taking in every personal detail with unflagging -interest for hours and hours, as Miss Dacre -averred; she was positive he never took his eyes -off him, except when he retired to bed, for a -whole week afterwards.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Laura and Linda declared Hubert had grown -bigger, taller, handsomer, older—in short, had in -every way improved. Miss Dacre, when called -upon to confirm the decision, seemed to have a -slight difficulty in putting her opinion into suitable -form, but it was understood to be on the whole -favourable. At any rate, the object of all this -affectionate interest had reason so to believe.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Barrington Hope was surprised to find -both home stations alive and kicking—so to -speak—after the terrific ordeal which they had -undergone. But, as he remarked, understocking -was a more scientific mode of management than -most squatters would allow. It was many a -year since the paddocks on either station had -looked so well. As to the non-wool-bearing -inhabitants, he was lost in astonishment at their -brilliant appearance after the deprivation of so -many of the comforts of life.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We were sorely tempted to go away to -Sydney during the worst part of the drought,” -said Laura. “Father gave us leave at the end -of one terrible month, when we had not tasted -milk, butter, or any decent meat. But as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>Mr. Dacre and Hubert were living on salt beef -and ‘pig’s face’ (<em>Mesembryanthemum</em>) when last -heard from, and risking their lives as well—moreover, -as Rosalind wouldn’t hear of leaving -the Colonel—we determined to bear our share -of discomfort also.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I declare I grew quite nice and thin,” said -Linda, who was sometimes uneasy about a -possibly redundant figure; “mine was just what -the old novelists used to call ‘a slight, but -rounded form.’ Laura and poor Rosalind fell -off dreadfully, though. No vegetables either. -We were reduced to eating an onion one day -with positive relish. Father said it was medicinally -necessary.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Good heavens, if I had had the least idea -that matters were so bad,” said Mr. Hope, -glancing at Laura with a look of the tenderest -compassion, “I should have insisted upon everybody -migrating to Sydney, and come up in -person to take charge, or done something -desperate. I should indeed.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That would have been a last resource,” said -Hubert, laughing. “Fancy the Austral Agency -Company, with the manager ruralising at such a -time! That would have caused a financial -earthquake, which would have been more serious -than the absence of milk and butter and a short -supply of vegetables. Never mind, it was -only a temporary inconvenience—much to be -lamented, doubtless—but everybody looks very -nice, notwithstanding.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>“I suppose we can put up with the old place -for a few weeks longer?” interposed Mr. -Stamford. “After Christmas, as we’ve all been -such good boys and girls, I think we’re due for -another trip to Sydney. I want to see the -pantomime, for one. Miss Dacre requires -change of air. I’m not sure that the climate of -Tasmania or Melbourne wouldn’t brace us -all up after the rather—well, not particularly -exciting life we’ve had for the last year.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Oh! you dear old father,” said Linda; -“you’re a man of the most original ideas and -splendid ingenuity. You’ve divined our inmost -thoughts intuitively.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>With such a prospect before them, the -members of both families endured the unmistakably -warm weather which generally precedes -Christmas with philosophical composure. Indeed, -so extremely contented were they with the -existing state of affairs, that Linda vowed it was -hardly worth while going away at all. This -unnaturally virtuous state of mind was, however, -combated by the majority, who possibly had -reasons of their own for desiring to wander for a -season far from their usual surroundings, for -early in the first week of the new year the -<cite>Mooramah Independent, and Warroo, Eyall, and -Bundaburhamah Advertiser</cite> contained this wildly -interesting announcement:—</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c016'> - <div>“MARRIAGES.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>“On the 3rd January, by the Rev. Edward -<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>Chalfont, at St. John’s Church, Mooramah, -Hubert, eldest son of Harold Stamford, Esq., of -Windāhgil, to Rosalind, only daughter of -Lieutenant-Colonel Rupert Dacre, of Wantabalree, -late of H.M. 83rd Regiment. At the -same time and place, Barrington, second son of -Commander Collingwood Hope, R.N., to Laura, -eldest daughter of Harold Stamford, Esq., of -Windāhgil.”</p> - -<p class='c012'>These momentous events were not wholly -unexpected. It may be imagined how the -church at Mooramah was crowded on that day. -It was not a particularly small one either, having -been built mainly through the exertions of an -energetic young clergyman, who did not allow -himself to be discouraged by the fact that a -considerable debt thereon still remained unpaid. -So there was not a seat, or half a seat, to be had -inside, while a much larger congregation than -usual stood around the porch and entrance -doors. School children strewed flowers on the -pathway of the happy brides, and none of the -usual ceremonies were omitted.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As it had not rained for three months, and -apparently was not likely to do so for three -more, the old-word proverb, “happy is the bride -that the sun shines on,” received most literal -fulfilment. However, the near prospect of -ocean breeze and plashing wavelets sustained -them amid the too ardent sun rays. Hubert, as -a local celebrity, came in for a certain amount of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>guarded approval, and, in spite of the misgivings -with which his Napoleonic policy had -been regarded, it was conceded that “he looked -twice the man” since his departure for foreign -parts. Rosalind Dacre quietly, though becomingly, -dressed, on that account was thought to -have scarcely paid due and befitting regard to -her serious and sacred duty as a bride. But as -to Laura, there was no thought of dispraise or -any, the faintest, doubt. Universally admired -and beloved, the flower of a family not less -popular than respected in the district, each one -in that crowded building seemed to take a -personal pride in her day of maiden triumph. -Barrington Hope, radiantly happy and enjoying -the prestige of a distinguished stranger, also -received the highest compliments of the spectators -by being declared to be worthy of the -belle of Mooramah.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The happy couples departed by train to Melbourne, -<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>en route</em></span> for Tasmania, that favoured -isle where the summer of Britain is reproduced -with the improved conditions of assured fine -weather, and a less inconvenient proximity to -the Pole. There annually do the desert-worn -pilgrims from the tropic north and central -wastes of the Australian continent resort for -coolness, greenery, and agreeable society, as to -the garden of Armida. Thus, in those rare -intervals when they were not engaged in gazing -on the perfections of their brides, were Hubert -Stamford and Barrington Hope enabled to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>indulge in a little pioneer talk, and to listen to -far-off echoes from the wild scenes which the -former had so lately quitted.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. and Mrs. Stamford, with Linda, remained -for a few days longer before they took wing -for the metropolis, leaving behind the Colonel -and Willoughby, who elected to remain at home -in charge of both stations. They arrived in -Sydney just in time to take leave of their friends, -the Grandisons. Chatsworth had been let for a -term of years, and preparations were complete -for their going to live upon one of the station -properties.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The fact is, my dear fellow,” said Mr. -Grandison, “that my wife and I have resolved -to take these younger children up into the bush -and live there quietly with them till their -education is finished. We must try if possible -to bring them up in an atmosphere untainted -by fashionable folly and excitement. It has -been the ruin (at least, I think so) of the older -ones. Now that Josie has married—--”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What! Josie married?” exclaimed Mr. -Stamford. “I never heard of it. You astonish -me!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Married, indeed,” said Mrs. Grandison, who -now joined them; “and a pretty match she has -made of it. Not that there’s anything against -the young man—he’s two or three years -younger than she is—except that he’s rather -stupid, and hasn’t an idea of anything, except -billiards and betting, that I can discover. As -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>he’s only a clerk in an insurance office, he has -just enough to keep himself and not a penny for -a wife, unless what her parents give her.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“The sort of young fellow I never shall be -able to take the slightest interest in,” said Mr. -Grandison; “not bad-looking, I suppose, but -quite incapable of raising himself a single step -by his own exertions, or aspiring to anything -beyond a sufficiency of cigars and an afternoon -lounge in George Street.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Of course you tried to prevent the -marriage,” said Mrs. Stamford; “but it’s too -late now to do anything but make the best of it, -for poor Josie’s sake.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Grandison turned away his head as his -wife said, in a tone of deep feeling, “The silly -girl went and was married before the Registrar. -She knew we could not approve of it, and took -that means of being beforehand with us. Her -father won’t see her yet; but of course she’ll -have an allowance, and we must help them if he -keeps steady. But it nearly broke our hearts, -you may believe.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We see all these things too late,” said her -husband, with a sigh, which he tried bravely to -repress. “If we had brought our children up -with other ideas, or placed before them higher -objects of ambition, a different result might -have been reached. Over and over again have -I cursed the day when we left the bush for -good—for good, indeed!—and came to live in -this city of shams. Not worse than other -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>places, I believe; but all this artificial town life, -while not too good for older people, is ruin and -destruction for young ones. What a fortunate -man you’ve been, Stamford, though, in our -selfish grief, I’ve forgotten to congratulate -you.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“It is the goodness of God,” he replied, -warmly grasping the hand which was silently -held out to him. “My children have never -given me a moment’s anxiety. We have been -sheltered, too, from the temptations of the -world, and so far from the ‘deceitfulness of -riches.’ I can never be sufficiently thankful.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“That won’t last long,” said Mr. Grandison, -with an effort to be cheerful. “People tell me -that Windāhgil Downs is going to be the finest -sheep property west of the Barcoo, and Hubert’s -reputation as a pioneer is in everybody’s mouth -now. He managed to pull the Colonel’s investment -out of the fire. Well paid for it too, -by all I hear! Give our love to Laura. She -must live in Sydney, I suppose, now she’s -married a business man. A rising fellow, -Barrington Hope, and one of the smartest -operators we have. Heigho! time’s up. We -shall meet again some day I hope, when I have -a better story to tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Stamford was sincerely grieved to hear -of this latest misfortune of the Grandison -family. She could hardly forgive Josie for the -insincerity and ingratitude with which she had -acted. “However,” said the kindly matron in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>continuation, “perhaps it is not so bad as they -are disposed to think. They’re dreadfully disappointed, -of course. If the young man’s -character is good, he may get on, and of course -Mr. Grandison will help them by and by. It -will do Josie good to have a house of her own -to look after, and to be obliged to save and contrive. -The girl’s heart is not naturally bad, I -believe; but she has been spoilt by over-indulgence -and extravagance ever since she was a -baby. A poor marriage may be the best thing -that ever happened to her. Oh! Harold, -should we not be deeply grateful for the mercy -of Providence in so ordering our lives that -until lately we have never had any money to -spare, and self-denial has been compulsory?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“H’m,” said Mr. Stamford, musingly; “no -doubt, no doubt! Too much money is one -form of danger, of moral death, which the devil -must regard with great, great complacency. Few -people take that view, though.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am very glad we have never been tried -in that way,” said Mrs. Stamford, simply, -looking up into her husband’s face. “I have -pitied you, darling, when I have seen you tormented -and anxious about money matters, but -we have always been very happy among ourselves, -even when things were at their worst. -There is no chance now, I suppose, of our affairs -going wrong? These Queensland stations are -quite safe!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Quite safe, my dearest wife,” answered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>Harold Stamford, with a pang of remorse at his -heart, as he imprinted a kiss on the fond face -which had never looked into his save with truth -and love shining in her clear eyes. “‘Safe as a -bank,’ or suppose we say as Australian debentures. -I don’t mind affirming that nothing, -humanly speaking, could materially injure our -investments now.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I am glad to hear that, for the dear children’s -sake,” she answered. “If their future is secured, -that is everything.”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Before the close of the summer, a naval -squadron cruising in Australian waters, strange -to say, happened to need partial refitting in -Sydney Harbour, and, entering that picturesque -haven, anchored as usual in Farm Cove. In one -of the delicious sea-girdled nooks of Neutral -Bay, it so chanced that Mr. Stamford had rented -a furnished villa for the season. The ladies -were wont to use the telescope in close inspection -of any strange vessel that approached. -Wonderful to relate, it appeared that the frigate -which on a previous occasion had been the ocean -home of Lieutenant Fitzurse was even now -among the graceful war-hawks which, after -battling with storm and tempest, were, so to -speak, furling their pinions under Linda’s excited -gaze.</p> - -<p class='c017'>There may or may not be a new system of -marine telegraphy, but the fact comes within -my experience that naval men have exceptionally -<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>prompt means of discovery, upon arrival in port, -whether the ladies of their acquaintance are in -town, and if so, where they abide.</p> - -<p class='c017'>It so chanced, therefore, that, upon the following -afternoon, a gig left H.M.S. <em>Vengeful</em>, and -with eight able seamen pulled straight for the -Dirrāhbah jetty, landing the lieutenant and a -brother officer, who, making their call in due -form, betrayed great anxiety for the health of -Mr. and Mrs. Stamford and the young ladies -during their long absence from Sydney. They -were also politely astonished at the news of Miss -Stamford’s and Hubert’s marriages. Indeed, -the recital of the family news (presumably) as -conveyed by Linda to Mr. Fitzurse in full, -during an examination of the green-house, lasted -so long that Mrs. Stamford looked several times -from the window, and the gallant tars in the -boat referred to the protracted absence of their -superior officers in unqualified Saxon terms.</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>What more is left to tell? It would appear -that there might have been a previously implied, -if unspoken confession between the young -people. Reference being permitted to Stamford -<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>père</em></span>, and satisfactory credentials forthcoming, it -was arranged that an “engagement” should be -officially allowed, hope being cautiously held out -by that wary diplomatist that, in the event of -the coveted “step” being attained, the full concession -might be thought about. Which -decision gave unqualified satisfaction, Linda -<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>being, as she averred, willing to wait for years; -indeed rather glad on the whole, that separation -and delay were necessary, so that she might have -time to think over and thoroughly enjoy her -unparalleled happiness.</p> - -<p class='c017'>With the autumn came the returning travellers, -Hubert declaring that he dared not stay -away another week from the Downs; frightful -consequences might happen; Mr. Hope and -Laura preparing to inhabit the comfortable -abode which, for a few years to come, they had -agreed, would be commensurate with their means. -Something was said about Mrs. Hubert Stamford -remaining at Wantabalree with her father -while her husband went forth again on his task -of subduing the waste. But that young woman -replied promptly, with the opening words of an -ancient family record, “Where thou goest, I will -go.” In reference to the possibly rude architecture -of their abode, she declared “that if -Hubert had only a packing case to live in, -she, being his wife, thought it her duty to live -there with him.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>After this, of course, there was no more to be -said, and the <em>Catterthun</em>, sailing soon afterwards -for the uttermost northern port, had in her -passenger list the names of Mr. and Mrs. -Hubert Stamford and servant.</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>From this time forth the star of Stamford -family was manifestly in the ascendant; for -not only did their undertakings flourish and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>the sons and daughters of the house “grow in -favour with God and man,” but everyone -bound to them by the ties of kindred or friendship -prospered exceedingly. The debt on -Wantabalree was cleared off in due time, while -the “Glastonbury Thorn” seemed to have -taken deep root in the northern wilds of the far -land to which it had been carried, and to bring -a blessing upon the dwellers around its sacred -stem. The Colonel lived rather a solitary existence -at the home station after Willoughby -had departed again for the north, but he got -into the way of going to Sydney for the summer, -where the Australian Club afforded him congenial -society, with a certainty of comradeship -at the nightly whist table.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. and Mrs. Hubert Stamford returned -after a year’s absence, the latter, though having -lost something of her English freshness of -complexion, by no means delicate of health, and -very proud of the infant Harold, whose steadfast -eyes and bold brow marked him out as a -future pioneer. Neither were sorry to abide -with the Colonel for a season, and Hubert threw -out hints about “the far north” being too -hot for any white woman, although Rosalind -would rather die than admit it. “She’s the -pluckiest little woman in the world, I believe,” -he said. “Didn’t she wash and cook for me -and Donald the whole month we were without -a servant? I believe she’d have kept the -station accounts too, if we’d have let her. But -I don’t want to run risks.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>Mr. and Mrs. Stamford, being more impartial -observers, were of opinion that a change would be -beneficial to both the young people. Hubert -was too thin to satisfy the maternal eye. She -believed that he had never properly got over that -horrid fever and ague attack. “And of course -Hubert would never give in; but really as the -boy had done so well, wouldn’t it be a nice -time for them to run home for a year or two? -The station was settling down, and as Mr. -Greenhaugh had been taken into partnership, -surely he could manage things for a time? It -would benefit Hubert in every way, and as -he had never been ‘home,’ of course they -would like him to see a little of the world.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Something of this sort may have occurred to -Mr. Stamford, but he had refrained in order to -permit his more cautious helpmate to propose -the extravagant notion. He shook his head -oracularly, said he would think over it, and if it -was decided—mind, if after due consideration -it turned out to be feasible—he thought it -would do Barrington and Laura a great deal of -good too. Barrington would knock himself up if -they didn’t mind. He was such a terribly constant -worker, and so conscientious that he did not -permit himself the relaxation that other men in -his position would have claimed.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“What a splendid idea!” exclaimed Mrs. -Stamford; “my dear Harold, you always seem -to hit upon the exact thing we have all been -thinking of but have hesitated about mentioning. -It will be the saving of Barrington, and as for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>Laura, the great dream of her life will be fulfilled. -I know she almost pines for Rome and -Florence, but she told me once she did not think -they could afford it for some years to come.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“<em>I</em> can afford it, though,” said Mr. Stamford, -with pardonable exultation. “Things have -prospered with us lately. And what have we -to think of in this world but our children’s -happiness? Barrington shall have a cheque for a -thousand the day their passage is taken. As for -Hubert, he can draw one for himself now, thank -God! without interviewing his banker.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mrs. Stamford was an economical and intelligent -woman as to her household accounts, but -she had the vague idea of “business” common -to her sex. She knew in a general way from -her son and husband that the stations were all -paying and improving in value. So she accepted -the situation without further inquiry. When -her husband, therefore, spoke of drawing so -large a cheque for travelling expenses, she was -not alarmed as she would once have been at the -idea of paying a tenth part of the amount, but -regarded the apparent profusion of money in -the family as a consequence of the higher -standard of pastoral property which they had -been so wonderfully guided to reach. “Hitherto -has the Lord helped us,” she quoted softly to -herself. “May His mercy be around our paths -and shield those who are dear to us from every -evil!”</p> - -<p class='c017'>The news that a trip to the old country was -not only possible but considered expedient, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>in a sense necessary, came with the effect of a -delightful surprise upon both couples. Hubert -had, in a hazy, contemplative way been revolving -the idea, but had not thought it likely -that it could be arranged in less than three or -four years. But now, brought face to face with -the idea, he found it to be unexpectedly -practicable. There was no very complicated -work or management necessary for two or three -years. Donald Greenhaugh, who had now a -fourth share, was fully able to superintend the -ordinary station work. Fencing, branding the -increase and selling the fat stock, were operations -which he could conduct as well as—in a sense -better—than Hubert could himself. In case -“anything happened to him”—and such things -have occurred ere now, disastrously for the -absentee partner—there was Willoughby, with -whom he could leave a power of attorney, on -the spot. All that was wanted was to increase -the cattle herd from five thousand head to -twenty, and that would not half stock the runs. -The sheep of course were right. One man of -experience could see to that process nearly as -well as another.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Barrington Hope too, urged by his wife, who -was fully of opinion that he worked too hard, -also that a purely sedentary life was drawing -fresh lines upon his brow, and prematurely -ageing him—pressed firmly his claim for a -lengthened vacation. To that end a relieving -manager was appointed to take his place during -his absence. When he found that Mr. Stamford’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>liberality was about to take such a pleasing -form, he was indeed surprised as well as -gratified. That gentleman felt it necessary to -make a slight explanation as to his private -means, but he merely mentioned that he was -now possessed of certain family funds not available -at the time of their first acquaintance, and -could therefore well afford the outlay.</p> - -<p class='c017'>As for Laura, it seemed as if the old days of -nursery tales had come back. The fairy godmother -had arisen and gifted her with the precise -form of happiness previously as impossible as a -slice of the moon. It had long been the wish -of her heart to behold, to wander amid, those -historic relics, those wondrous art creations, -those hallowed spots with which her reading and -her imaginative faculty had rendered her so -familiar. It was her favourite dream for middle -life. When years of self-denial and steady -industry had wrought out the coveted independence, -<em>then</em> the journey into the land of -ancient fame, of wonder, mystery, and romance, -was to be their reward. But to think of its -being vouchsafed to them in their youth, before -the stern counsel of middle age, with its slower -heart-currents, had warned them that the years -were slowly advancing, fated to carry with them -the best treasures of life.</p> - -<p class='c017'>And oh, gracious destiny! in the full tide of -youthful feeling, of the joyous exalting sense of -happiness born of the unworn heart of youth, -<em>now</em> to bestow on them these all-priceless -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>luxuries! It was more than wonderful—it was -magical. Who were they to have so much undeserved -happiness showered upon them? Hubert -and Rosalind would join them, perhaps to part -in England for a while. But they would roam -the Continent together, they could in company -gaze upon the dead giantess Rome; the city by -the sea, even Venice; resting under the shade of -German pine forests, they could listen to weird -legends beneath the shadow of the Hartz -Mountains. Oh! joy, glory, peace unspeakable! -What an astonishing change in their -life-history! And to think that in less than a -month—so it had been ordered—they would be -saying farewell to the land of their birth!</p> - -<p class='c017'>It was felt by the Colonel and Willoughby to -be an unfair stroke of destiny that Rosalind, the -chief joy and glory of their life, should be -spirited away to Europe. But her father also -considered that, when in Queensland, she was -virtually as far from his ken, while the -pleasures and advantages procurable from the -former locality bore no comparison with the -latter. There was an unspoken wish also on the -part of the elder relatives that the Australian -contingent should enjoy the inestimable advantage -of beholding with their own eyes the -wonders of the other hemisphere, of forming an -alliance by personal experience with the glory -and the loveliness, the literature and art of the -ancient world, to endure in memory’s treasure-house -till life’s latest hour.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Barrington Hope could hardly realise the -fact, till he found himself actually on board -of a mail steamer, that he would have no -business cares for the next two years—a whole -elysium of rest and recreation. For this respite -from the “figure and fact” mill, Laura was -deeply grateful, sensible as she had been for -some months past that the calculating machine -was working under occasional effort.</p> - -<p class='c017'>When the Hubert Stamfords and Hopes -bestowed themselves on board the <em>Lahore</em>—the -last triumph of the Peninsular and Oriental -Company—one would have thought all Sydney -was coming to say farewell—such was the congregation -on the deck and in the magnificent -saloon of that noble vessel. Of course the -Colonel and Willoughby, Mr. and Mrs. Stamford, -and all their Sydney friends turned out on -purpose to “see them off” as the phrase is, -according to British etiquette on such occasions. -Other people—friends and relatives—had come -to say farewell to their wives and daughters, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>sons and sweethearts. Thus many a saddened -countenance and tearful eye were to be noted as -the great steamer moved slowly astern, and then -glided at half-speed down the harbour.</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Of their safe and pleasant voyage—of fast -friends, and congenial acquaintances made on -board and parted from with regret—what need -to speak? Of the entrance to fairyland which -the first few months’ sojourn in the dear old -island so closely resembles for home-returning -Australians. Of the stores of information -acquired. Of the intoxicating luxury of mere -existence under such conditions. Of the transcending -of all anticipation and belief.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Barrington Hope and Laura remained in -Europe for the full term of their holiday—two -years. But six months ere that period closed -Hubert and his wife became impatient to return -to their life-task in the south land, too satiated -with mere sensuous enjoyment to remain -longer.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“We are young and strong, thank God,” -said Hubert; “it’s not as though we did not -see our way to be back here again within a -reasonable time. But my work lies in Australia, -and I can’t settle to this kind of easy-going life -just yet. When Windāhgil Downs is in -thorough working order and fully stocked, we -can treat ourselves to a run home every five -years or so without feeling uneasy about the -seasons or anything else. So we’ll just take our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>passage by the next boat and wake them up at -Mooramah once more.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I’m ready, dearest,” said his wife. “With -you, I think our work is only half-done, and the -sooner we commence life in earnest the better. -We’ve seen picture galleries enough to last us -for the next few years, and I begin to pine for -a sight of my dear old father, and Willoughby, -poor boy! I wonder how they are getting on at -Wantabalree?”</p> - -<hr class='c007' /> - -<p class='c017'>Once more the family circles were replenished, -irradiated by the old love and tenderness in the -persons of the wanderers—once more grateful -hearts were full to overflowing, and humble -thanks were offered up to the Supreme Power -which had permitted their happy reunion, in -spite of perils by land and sea—the thousand -chances of danger and death which had irrevocably -marred less fortunate households. All had -gone well in their absence—Linda and her sailor -love had been made mutually happy, and -through the exercise of judicious local interest -Captain Fitzurse, as he was now proudly styled -by mankind and his adoring bride, had secured -a colonial appointment involving naval duty, -but not forbidding the occupation of one of -those delightful marine residences of which -Sydney boasts so many perfect specimens.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Donald Greenhaugh had amply justified the -confidence bestowed on him. The stations were -growing and flourishing to the fullest extent of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>sanguine expectation. Willoughby had developed -into a stalwart bushman, properly -bronzed and duly experienced in all pastoral -lore. The seasons “out back” had been good. -Nothing was wanting of all the conditions of -permanent prosperity.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Of all the members of the two families so -happily united and thankfully enjoying their -unwonted success, universally admired and -envied, Mr. Stamford alone seemed to be laden -with care. At times abstracted and preoccupied, -silent and grave amidst the family hilarity; at -whist, striking out confusing lines of play, for -which no precedent could be found. Such was -his departure in general behaviour from the -ordinary cheerful and equable habit that his -wife and children commenced seriously to fear -that the unwonted prosperity had turned his -head, or that old anxieties had induced morbid -action of the brain. The Colonel shook his -head as he delicately alluded to the melancholy -fact in a walk with Rosalind. It would grieve -him to the heart. He didn’t think really he -could stay on at Wantabalree; that a man who -could lead from a weak suit and play the Queen -of Hearts when the King was still <span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><em>in petto</em></span>, <em>must</em> -be suffering from incipient softening of the -brain, was patent to him.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The fact was that Mr. Stamford had come to -the conclusion that the time had arrived when it -was necessary to make a clean breast of his -secret. And he did not like the idea at all. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>When the matter was buried in his own breast -and in that of Mr. Worthington, than whom -his own iron safe was not more reticent of -office secrets, it did not, like other hidden deeds, -appear so frightful. But now, after all these -years, to be compelled to tell his wife and -children, who believed that they shared every -thought of his heart, that he had carefully, -wilfully, artfully concealed from them the -knowledge of their true position! He could -hardly stand up and face the idea. “What if -his children should resent this want of all confidence? -Would his wife think that all her -love and trust deserved a different return?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. Stamford wiped his heated brow and -thought the position unendurable. Still, the -motive was a good one, a pure one, even practical. -And how had it worked? The result -might not have directly proceeded from the -means employed; but still everything had -followed for which he had hoped and prayed.</p> - -<p class='c017'>His children had not shrunk from any test of -self-denial, of fortitude, of continuous industry -rendered necessary by the apparent narrowness -of their fortunes. True, they were at the same -time actuated by filial reverence and family love, -swayed by the tenets of that religious teaching -which from their infancy had been unwaveringly -inculcated. But could these influences have -been sufficiently strong to counteract the strong -currents of ease and pleasure, the soft zephyrs of -flattery, the clinging weight of indolence, all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>urging towards the wreck-strewn shore of self-indulgence, -when once the fatal knowledge -should be acquired that all care for the morrow -was superfluous?</p> - -<p class='c017'>Who shall say? Had not the fate of his -friend’s family, the melancholy failure of even -his modest aspirations for social distinction, -been as a beacon light and a warning?</p> - -<p class='c017'>As it was, every noble feeling, every desire to -spare no effort either of mind or body which -could tend to raise the fortunes and to lighten -the hearts of those so dear to him, had been -stimulated and intensified in his son and heir by -the sharp urgency and weight of the Alternative. -His daughters had emulated their mother’s virtues -and with uncomplaining patience had endured -isolation, monotony, plain living, and sparing -apparel. For this they had had their reward—doubtless. -But would all these fragrant flowers -of the soul have thriven and bloomed in the -ungenial soil of luxury, and the indolence born -of unwonted, uncounted wealth?</p> - -<p class='c017'>Whatever had been his sin of omission or -commission, could he fairly be chargeable with -apathy as to the welfare of his children?</p> - -<p class='c017'>For them, and in their interest, he had striven -in every conscious hour from that of their birth -until now. For them he had toiled and endured -hardness—had hoped and prayed. For their -welfare in this world and the next was his every -waking thought engaged. Other than these -had he no pleasures worthy of the name in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>latter years of a life now approaching—slowly, -but still approaching—the inevitable close. He -had, it was true, chosen an unusual mode, but -withal an intelligible course of action.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Looking at the question in all its points, and -pushing the reasoning on either side to its conclusion, -Mr. Stamford began to find his position -more tenable than he had expected. After all, -he had only done in life what most people did -in death—reserved the distribution of his fortune -until a later period, for the eventual benefit -of his children.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Thus fortified, Mr. Stamford, having made up -his mind, as the phrase runs, resolved to communicate -the terrible secret fully and finally to -his assembled family that very evening, being -averse to spoiling another night’s rest with a -burden of thought the weight of which had -become so oppressive. It happened that the -Colonel and Willoughby were at Windāhgil, -so Mr. Stamford rightly judged that it would -save all after trouble of explanation if he made -his Budget speech when nearly all concerned -were present.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Partly in deference to the Colonel’s habitudes -and those of the European travellers, the fashion -of a late dinner had been revived at Windāhgil. -Everybody had been unusually cheerful. The -never-failing fund of Continental or English -experiences had been drawn upon over the -“walnuts and the wine,” or rather, when grapes -and peaches were receiving attention—Hubert -<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>had been laughingly threatening Rosalind with -a dozen more years of Queensland life—when -Mr. Stamford stood up and remarked that “the -time had arrived when he felt it his duty to -make a statement which had been, for reasons -of his own, postponed—perhaps unnecessarily -so. However, it deeply concerned the interests -of all present, directly or indirectly, and as he -said before, the time had come for him to explain, -he might say disclose, the a—a—affair.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Here Mr. Stamford, who was not a fluent -speaker, became aware that though he had not -furnished a particularly accurate termination to -his last sentence, he had at all events sufficiently -puzzled, not to say alarmed, his audience. He -therefore filled his glass and sipped it slowly, -while Mrs. Stamford looked wistfully at him. -Laura gazed with fully opened eyes, in which -might be observed a slight glimmer of dread; -Hubert waited calmly for the next words, and -Mr. Hope and the Colonel politely preserved a -studied indifference. Rosalind took the cue -from her husband, and betrayed no uneasiness -by word or gesture.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“My dearest wife, my children, my friends,” -the speaker proceeded, “what I have to tell you -is rather of a pleasing than of an alarming -nature. The only awkwardness of my position -arises from uncertainty as to whether I ought -to have said what I do now several years ago. -I can truly assert that it is the only secret I -ever kept from my dear wife, or even from my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>children since they arrived at years of discretion.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Here everybody’s face expressed different -degrees of amazement.</p> - -<p class='c017'>The orator continued. “The leading fact is -that I am a much richer man than is generally -supposed.” (“Hear, hear,” from the Colonel.) -“In a year we all remember well, as you will -see by the date of this letter, I was left -£170,000 or thereabouts by a relative. You -do not forget the dry year in which we were -so nearly ruined? We recovered our position -chiefly through the well-considered, safe, yet -liberal action of my dear son-in-law, Barrington -Hope. The gratitude I felt for the way in -which he then acted, strictly consonant as it was -with proper business principles, is still warm and -fresh in my recollection.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Here Laura’s eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“Immediately after this comparative good -fortune I received this letter, which told me -of a bequest beyond all hope or expectation. -It rendered me a rich, a very rich man, as -fortunes go in Australia. Circumstances which -then came under my observation caused me to -doubt whether a sudden accession of wealth -would act beneficially upon the as yet unformed -characters of my darling children. Up to that -period their dispositions, their principles, had -been all the fondest parent could have wished. -Why, then, run the risk of an alteration, necessarily -for the worse? Would they so continue -<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>under a total change of conditions and prospects? -I felt doubtful, judging from analogy. So -deeply was the danger to them at such a critical -period of their lives borne in upon me, that -I took time to consider my course of action. -Finally, after deep thought and earnest prayer, -I resolved to withhold the important intelligence—to -permit them to remain in ignorance of -aught but a gradual relief from threatened ruin. -In short, I elected to live our old life, gradually -modified and developed, until, in course of -time, their characters had acquired maturity, -with that strength to resist all ordinary temptation -which I hoped and trusted the coming -years would bring. My secret was known to -but one man, our trusted legal adviser and -friend, Mr. Worthington. Meanwhile, I proposed -judiciously to improve our mode of living, -and to provide, by degrees, such indulgences as -befitted our apparent position. You can judge -whether I have kept the promise which I then -made to myself, whether our cherished ideal -of ‘plain living and high thinking’ has been -reached.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Here Mrs. Stamford approached her husband, -and placed her hand in his, amid the silent -astonishment which pervaded the company.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“I have only now to say that all things -shaped themselves in every respect as I could -have wished. I am the happiest and proudest -father this day in Australia. I can trust my -beloved children, in ripened manhood and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>womanhood, with the full knowledge of their -altered position, and I ask their forgiveness, and -that of my dearest wife, for the apparent want -of confidence involved in this my first and last -secret, as far as they are concerned.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Here Mr. Stamford resumed his seat, and -looked round vainly for any sign of dissent. -Before other comment was possible, his wife -turned towards him with a countenance expressive -of the purest tenderness, the most -loving and perfect confidence.</p> - -<p class='c017'>“My darling husband,” she said, “you lay -too much stress upon the reserve necessary for -your purpose. As the head of the family, -you had a perfect right to give or withhold the -information. Have you not always considered -the best interests of us all? You <em>might</em> have -taken me into your confidence, perhaps, but no -child of ours would dream of questioning your -action in this or any other matter. Could we -have been happier with all the money in the -world?”</p> - -<p class='c017'>“And so say all of us, my dear old governor,” -said Hubert, walking round to his father’s -chair and shaking his hand warmly, a proceeding -which was quickly followed by Barrington -Hope, Willoughby, and Colonel Dacre. “I -should never have stuck to my collar or been -half the fellow, if I had thought, years ago, that -work or play was optional with us—would -never have tackled the things that now I feel -proud and happy to have carried through; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>never had such a little wife, most likely, either. -In her name, in all our names, I thank you from -my heart for what you did.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Laura’s arms had been for some moments -round her father’s neck; her feelings were too -deep for words; her tears were those of relief -and gratitude. The Colonel made an opportune -diversion by expressing a hope that his esteemed -friend’s whist would now undergo a beneficial -change. His sudden deterioration of form had, -he confessed, caused him, the Colonel, great -uneasiness, even alarm. Now that the murder -was out, and his breast unburdened of its dreadful -secret, he felt confident they would return -to their former most enjoyable social relations. -As a friend, a father, and an antagonist in the -king of games, he begged to be permitted to -congratulate him most warmly and sincerely.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>THE END</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c022'> - <div><span class='small'>RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BUNGAY.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>THE</div> - <div><span class='xlarge'>QUEEN OF THE MOOR</span></div> - <div class='c000'>A TALE OF DARTMOOR IN THE DAYS</div> - <div>OF WATERLOO</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By</span> FREDERIC ADYE</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div><em>CONTENTS.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='21%' /> -<col width='78%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>CHAP.</td> - <td class='c024'></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>I.</td> - <td class='c024'>TOR ROYAL.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>II.</td> - <td class='c024'>MORNING ON THE MOOR.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>III.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE WAR PRISON.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>IV.</td> - <td class='c024'><em>PARCERE SUBJECTIS.</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>V.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE DARTMOOR HUNT.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>VI.</td> - <td class='c024'>A FOX CHASE ON DARTMOOR.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>VII.</td> - <td class='c024'>SOUTH HESSARY.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>VIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>A KISS IN TIME.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>IX.</td> - <td class='c024'>OKERY COTTAGE.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>X.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE SHERBURTON BULL.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XI.</td> - <td class='c024'>MADAME GALMADY DE TOR ROYAL.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XII.</td> - <td class='c024'>BY THE CORNISH SEA.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE FORSTERS AT HOME.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XIV.</td> - <td class='c024'>FAMILY TALK.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XV.</td> - <td class='c024'>FATHER SEGUIER.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XVI.</td> - <td class='c024'>MISS CALMADY ENTERTAINS.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'><span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>XVII.</td> - <td class='c024'>A DINNER PARTY AT TOR ROYAL.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XVIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>“DO TAKE HIM, HE’S THOROUGH-BRED.”</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XIX.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE FISHERMAN’S DAUGHTER.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XX.</td> - <td class='c024'>A PERILOUS SAIL.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXI.</td> - <td class='c024'>NAUGHTY GUNHILDA.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXII.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE HONOURABLE JACK.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>“THERE SHOULD BE A GENTLEMAN.”</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXIV.</td> - <td class='c024'>SNOWBALLING.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXV.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE TAME HERON.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXVI.</td> - <td class='c024'>A SCENE ON THE ICE.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXVII.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE FRENCH SERGEANT.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXVIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>DANGER AHEAD.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXIX.</td> - <td class='c024'>A DISCIPLE OF LAVATER.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXX.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE REVEREND ROUNDER.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXI.</td> - <td class='c024'>FRANK IN TROUBLE.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXII.</td> - <td class='c024'>DRIVING THE DRIFT.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>POVERA PICCIOLA.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXIV.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE KING’S SHILLING.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXV.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE MARSEILLAISE.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXVI.</td> - <td class='c024'><em>VAE VICTIS.</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXVII.</td> - <td class='c024'>WISTMAN’S WOOD.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXVIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>BROTHER AND SISTER.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XXXIX.</td> - <td class='c024'>CECIL VISITS THE BARBICAN.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XL.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE SEARCH WARRANT.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XLI.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE DOCTOR’S KITCHEN.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XLII.</td> - <td class='c024'>GOOD-BYE TO THE MOOR.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XLIII.</td> - <td class='c024'>WAR’S ALARUMS.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XLIV.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE EIGHTEENTH OF JUNE.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XLV.</td> - <td class='c024'>AMONG THE PROVENCE ROSES.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XLVI.</td> - <td class='c024'>THE BELLS OF BATTREAUX.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c023'>XLVII.</td> - <td class='c024'>CONCLUSION.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>—“His chapters in praise of the stout hill -foxes, and the brilliant runs they give over miles of grass and fern, -remind us in their freshness and abundance of life of Whyte Melville -at his best.... The novel is an excellent one.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GRAPHIC</cite>—“It is long since we have read a novel with so much -unbroken pleasure.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“A very pretty little plot of adventure -and love is woven out of this material. Interspersed, but not too -frequently, are some hunting scenes drawn with great spirit.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>MANCHESTER EXAMINER</cite>—“Reminds us very forcibly of -some of the most characteristic romances of Charles Kingsley and -Mr. Blackmore. The <cite>Queen of the Moor</cite> is like <cite>Westward Ho!</cite> and -<cite>Lorna Doone</cite>, full of nature and of human nature.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>MORNING POST</cite>—“Since <cite>Lorna Doone</cite> the natural features of -an English district have not been described with such a vigorous -touch as is Dartmoor and the country that surrounds it in Mr. Adye’s -novel ... his delightful romance which has the freshness of the -wild moors it so vividly paints.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE</cite>—“Lovers of the picturesque in nature will -render grateful thanks to Mr. Adye for the admirable sketches he gives -of romantic Dartmoor.... There is a charm about these descriptions -which reminds us of those of Mr. R.D. Blackmore. We never -tire of them, for they are never twice the same. Each time we get a -new glimpse, and each time we feel more strongly drawn to this land of -heath and tor.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>OBSERVER</cite>—“A work that will rank high among the historical -romances of the present day.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><em>ROLF BOLDREWOOD’S NEW NOVEL</em></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'>PLAIN LIVING</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'><span class="blackletter">A Bush Idyll</span></span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By</span> ROLF BOLDREWOOD</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c022'> - <div>BY THE SAME</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'>MY RUN HOME</span></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ATHENÆUM</cite>—“Rolf Boldrewood’s last story is a racy volume. It has many -of the best qualities of Whyte Melville, the breezy freshness and vigour of Frank -Smedley, with the dash and something of the abandon of Lever... His last -volume is one of his best.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GLASGOW HERALD</cite>—“There is a fresh breeziness about the book which -makes it pleasant reading.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY MAIL</cite>—“A sprightly book, this is, as much English as Australian, with -a style distinguished by a rattling freedom which rarely degenerates into slipshodness. -The interest is mainly horsey, yet the men and women live and the whole -story goes with a swing and a rush.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>OBSERVER</cite>—“Lacks neither incident nor interest, and will, doubtless, find -many readers.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>MANCHESTER GUARDIAN</cite>—“There is always life and movement in what -Mr. Rolf Boldrewood writes.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'>THE</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'>SECRET OF ST. FLOREL</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By</span> JOHN BERWICK</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'><cite>SPEAKER</cite>—“A book to be unreservedly recommended.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>—“The thrilling interest of the narrative is -continuously sustained by the malefactions of no fewer than three -several and distinct villains, whom the author utilizes with consummate -ability as instruments of romantic complication.... Teems with -novel incident, and bristles with exciting adventures.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>OBSERVER</cite>—“A capital romance, and well worth reading.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>STANDARD</cite>—“Clever and well written.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE</cite>—“The story is interesting.... The -end is dramatic and original.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GLASGOW HERALD</cite>—“The descriptions of foreign life and travel -are delightful, and this novel is in every way a well-written one.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SCOTSMAN</cite>—“A thoroughly healthy and well-told story, with -plenty of stirring incident and variety of scene and situation, and it -is not wanting in study of character and knowledge of life, savage, -semi-savage, and civilized.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span><em>Globe 8vo. 12s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><em>F. MARION CRAWFORD’S NEW NOVEL</em></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'><strong>CORLEONE</strong></span></div> - <div class='c000'><em>In Two Volumes.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE</cite>—“These Sicilian scenes are admirably rendered, -for Mr. Crawford is an artist, and an artist of strongly dramatic instincts.... -All who love Mr. Crawford’s work (roughly speaking, all who know -it, that is) know well enough that the oldest story would be improved by -his telling of it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ACADEMY</cite>—“The story is told in Mr. Crawford’s best manner, and -after the preliminary chapters are well out of the way, you can hardly lay -it aside.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PUNCH</cite>—“The reader’s interest in the story, roused at the commencement, -grows in intensity as the plot is artistically developed to its climax. -Mr. Crawford’s pictures of Italian scenery are perfect, and his characters, -belonging to the Roman Society, with which he has familiarized us in so -many of his books, are living beings before our eyes.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>—“A good story ... full of vigorous touches, -interesting, and even absorbing from beginning to end.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPECTATOR</cite>—“The glories of the Sicilian landscape are admirably -painted, and the book is enriched by a good deal of illuminative commentary -on the peculiarities of the Italian and Sicilian temperament.... A -brilliant and engrossing story.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>LITERATURE</cite>—“We have not often met with a more satisfactory -novel than Corleone, and have little doubt that it will be regarded as one -of Mr. Crawford’s best works.... An exciting and dramatic story.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“Mr. Marion Crawford at his best, with -his inventive faculties at their boldest, his constructive skill at its fullest, -and with his grace of manner always before us, gives such joy as the fabulist -may rarely hope to afford. In <cite>Corleone</cite> we find to our huge delight that it -is once again Mr. Crawford at his best.... A splendid romance of -much originality, and always captivating and impressive.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPEAKER</cite>—“This is almost, if not quite, the strongest and most -striking of the brilliant series of romances to which it belongs.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span><span class='large'>NOVELS BY F. MARION CRAWFORD</span></div> - <div class='c000'><em>Crown 8vo. 6s. each.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'><strong>A ROSE OF YESTERDAY.</strong></span></div> - <div class='c000'><cite>WORLD</cite>—“A charming story.”</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'><strong>TAQUISARA.</strong></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“Cannot fail to be read with interest and pleasure -by all to whom clever characterization and delicate drawing make appeal.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><em>Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. each.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><strong>Mr. Isaacs</strong>: A Tale of Modern India.</p> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Athenæum</cite>—“A work of unusual ability.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Doctor Claudius</strong>: A True Story.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Athenæum</cite>—“Mr. Crawford has achieved -another success.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>A Roman Singer.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Times</cite>—“A masterpiece of narrative.... -Unlike any other romance in English -literature.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Zoroaster.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Guardian</cite>—“An instance of the highest -and noblest form of novel.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Marzio’s Crucifix.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Times</cite>—“A subtle compound of artistic -feeling, avarice, malice, and criminal -frenzy is this carver of silver chalices -and crucifixes.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>A Tale of a Lonely Parish.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Saturday Review</cite>—“Unlike most novels -‘A Tale of a Lonely Parish’ goes on -improving up to the end.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Paul Patoff.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>St. James’s Gazette</cite>—“Those who neglect -to read ‘Paul Patoff’ will throw away a -very pleasurable opportunity.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>With the Immortals.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Spectator</cite>—“Cannot fail to please a -reader who enjoys crisp, clear, vigorous -writing, and thoughts that are alike -original and suggestive.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><span lang="de" xml:lang="de"><strong>Greifenstein.</strong></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Guardian</cite>—“The book, we doubt not, -will rank very high among Mr. Crawford’s -novels.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Sant’ Ilario.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Athenæum</cite>—“The plot is skilfully concocted, -and the interest is sustained to -the end.... A very clever piece of work.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>A Cigarette-Maker’s</strong></div> - <div><strong>Romance.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Globe</cite>—“We are inclined to think this -is the best of Mr. M. Crawford’s stories.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Khaled</strong>: A Tale of Arabia.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Anti-Jacobin</cite>—“Mr. Crawford has -written some stories more powerful, but -none more attractive than this.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>The Three Fates.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>National Observer</cite>—“A brilliant variation -from Mr. F. Marion Crawford’s wonted -style.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>The Witch of Prague.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Academy</cite>—“It is a romance of singular -daring and power.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Marion Darche</strong>: A Story without</div> - <div>Comment.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Athenæum</cite>—“The characters are thoroughly -interesting, the dialogue easy, -and the situations effective....”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Katherine Lauderdale.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Punch</cite>—“Admirable in its simple -pathos, its unforced humour, and, above -all, in its truth to human nature.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>The Children of the King.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Daily Chronicle</cite>—“Mr. Crawford has not -done better work than ‘The Children of -the King’ for a long time.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Pietro Ghisleri.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Speaker</cite>—“Mr. Crawford is an artist, -and a great one, and he has been -brilliantly successful in a task in which -ninety-nine out of every hundred writers -would have failed.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Don Orsino.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Athenæum</cite>—“‘Don Orsino’ is a story -with many strong points.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Casa Braccio.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Daily Telegraph</cite>—“The reader will not -easily lay it down until he has reached -the concluding page.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>Adam Johnstone’s Son.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Daily News</cite>—“Mr. Crawford has written -stories richer in incident and more -powerful in intention, but we do not -think that he has handled more deftly or -shown a more delicate insight into tendencies -that go towards making some of -the more spiritual tragedies of life.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c026'> - <div><strong>The Ralstons.</strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c027'><cite>Academy</cite>—“A book to be read, and -read more than once.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By the Author of</span></div> - <div><span class='sc'>“The Courtship of Morrice Buckler”</span></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>PHILANDERERS</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'>BY</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'>A.E.W. MASON</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GLOBE</cite>—“His work is virile; it is individual; it is, in certain fine -qualities, distinguished.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>WORLD</cite>—“One of the most interesting novels we have met for -a long time.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ACADEMY</cite>—“<cite>The Philanderers</cite> should add to Mr. Mason’s reputation—a -reputation which, I am convinced, will continue to grow.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY MAIL</cite>—“There is no weakness here, no shallowness, no -compromise. Built up with strength and sincerity, and finely written, -the story braces the mind as much as it captivates the taste.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“The charm of the story lies in the -clear, sharp outlines and delicate shading with which the chief characters -are limned, and the grace and ease of the style and of the dialogues.... -All Mr. Mason’s <cite>Philanderers</cite> are convincing—‘neither -children nor gods,’ but men and women in a world of afternoon teas—and -thoroughly convincing.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>—“It is light, sparkling, and very well -told.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ATHENÆUM</cite>—“Mr. Mason is to be much congratulated on a -fine book.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>BRITISH REVIEW AND NATIONAL OBSERVER</cite>—“A -book to read.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GUARDIAN</cite>—“It is cleverly and well written, with both humour -and brilliance.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE</cite>—“A clever and original story, told -with much freshness and vivacity.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>THE COURTSHIP</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='large'>OF</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>MORRICE BUCKLER</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By</span> A.E.W. MASON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>TIMES</cite>—“It is a pleasure to meet a romance of historical times, -rather than a romance of history (for actual events are scarcely introduced), -so vigorous, brilliant, rapid, and exciting as <cite>The Courtship of -Morrice Buckler</cite>.... If his work be not widely read, if many do -not breathlessly follow Morrice Buckler from Leyden to London, to -Bristol, to Lukstein, and in all his wanderings, the loss will be that of -novel-readers.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ATHENÆUM</cite>—“Mr. Mason’s manner is alert and engaging, and -his matter fresh and stirring. No one who takes up his novel is likely -to lay it down unfinished.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PUNCH</cite>—“If this my hint will increase the number of readers, they -will, unless gratitude be extinct, thank me for my strong recommendation -as to the excellent entertainment provided for them in <cite>The -Courtship of Morrice Buckler</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“A right gallant romance of the seventeenth -century, which is attractive from one end to the other.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPECTATOR</cite>—“A thrilling romance, with a most ingenious and -mysterious plot. The story is excellently told.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>BLACK AND WHITE</cite>—“Admirable in every respect.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPEAKER</cite>—“A fine dramatic tale.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>—“Without a doubt the name of Mr. A.E. -W. Mason must be added to that small but distinguished band who have -given so brilliant a revival to the old-fashioned bustling romance of fair -and haughty ladies, brave gallants, duels, ruffles and brocades, and all -the varied and charming ingredients of those tales of bygone days which -are such welcome refreshment in these prosaic times.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>STORIES OF NAPLES</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><strong>AND THEM</strong></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>CAMORRA</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'><span class='sc'>By</span> CHARLES GRANT</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GUARDIAN</cite>—“These stories are written from personal knowledge of -the Neapolitan peasant class, and in consequence they are most remarkable. -To gain this knowledge, Mr. Grant gathered his material ‘by personal -intercourse with the lower classes in their narrow homes, or in by-ways and -lanes still narrower.’... Such material gained in so intimate a fashion -Mr. Grant has worked up into stories thrilling in their realistic interest.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“We cordially recommend the book, -especially to the lovers of Italy and her picturesque people.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>NATIONAL OBSERVER</cite>—“As a picture of the way in which the -South Italians live and act, and think and feel, these sketches, drawn mostly -from life, are of historical as well as literary value.”</p> - -<p class='c017'>Mr. <span class='sc'>Gladstone</span> writes to the publishers: “In all the tales I think it -most interesting and instructive—in the two first delightful, and extremely -skilful also.... Mr. Grant must have been a delightful man.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>TIMES</cite>—“Mr. Grant’s collection of Neapolitan sketches, or studies in -fiction, founded on his peculiar and extensive knowledge of the populace, is -a work of poignant interest.... Full of incident and colour.... -The book is one of permanent value.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>MORNING POST</cite>—“Within its limits leaves nothing to be desired for -fidelity of characterization and colouring, and induces regret that a writer -of such varied gifts should have died at a comparatively early age.... -The entire volume is vividly descriptive and full of Southern colour.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY NEWS</cite>—“The book is well worth reading and even studying. -The street scenes are handled with artistic effectiveness, and the people seem -to live before us.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SCOTSMAN</cite>—“It is not a bare, Zolaesque, photographic picture of low -life that is revealed. The hand of the artist in words, and the touch of the -genial sympathizer with human nature in all its aspects invest it with infinite -charm, and few who take up this book will lay it down without feeling that -Mr. Grant has conveyed in these pages some notion of the fascination which -held him so long in Naples.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GLASGOW HERALD</cite>—“If Mr. Grant has left any other studies of the -city he loved so well, we hope that they too may be published, for this book -makes us long for more.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'><strong>A</strong></span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'><span class='sc'>Chapter of Accidents</span></span></div> - <div class='c000'>BY</div> - <div class='c000'>MRS. HUGH FRASER</div> - <div class='c000'><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>PALLADIA</span></strong></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SATURDAY REVIEW</cite>—“It has a capital plot, fascinating characters, -and much dramatic interest.... A good piece of work, full -of interest and humour.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPEAKER</cite>—“There are very few who, having begun the perusal -of Palladia, will care to lay it down until the last page is reached.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>MORNING POST</cite>—“Romantic, picturesque, and interesting.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>NATIONAL OBSERVER</cite>—“A romance of thrilling interest.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPECTATOR</cite>—“A most engrossing and ingenious story.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ACADEMY</cite>—“It cannot be said there is a dull page in <cite>Palladia</cite> -from beginning to end.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>—“It is even better than <cite>The Brown -Ambassador</cite>, good as that delightfully humorous book was in its way, -and higher praise than this it is unnecessary to bestow.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GLASGOW HERALD</cite>—“This is in every respect a capital romance.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“A satisfactory romance is <cite>Palladia</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SCOTSMAN</cite>—“Full of stirring and exciting scenes. Many of the -characters are drawn with great skill, and the novel deserves to find -many readers.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>A SON OF THE PLAINS</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By</span> ARTHUR PATERSON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>TIMES</cite>—“As a book for a railway journey, or to pass a pleasant, -indeed a thrilling, hour with, Mr. Arthur Paterson’s <cite>A Son of the Plains</cite> -may be thoroughly recommended.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“A book of great interest.... He -has written a most thrilling and effective story in the simplest and most -unaffected manner.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>WORLD</cite>—“The interest is never allowed to flag.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>BRITISH WEEKLY</cite>—“The book is written in a masterly style.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE</cite>—“If boys are what they were and what they -ought to be, and parents and guardians know how to select books for -presents at Christmas time, Mr. Paterson will receive a big cheque from his -publishers; and most thoroughly will he have deserved it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY TELEGRAPH</cite>—“A bright, exhilarating story of thrilling -adventures and hairbreadth ’scapes in Western America.... As a -sensational romance Mr. Paterson’s latest fiction may safely be pronounced -‘bad to beat.’”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ST. JAMES’S BUDGET</cite>—“It would be difficult to find a more -exciting story of adventure than that provided by Mr. Arthur Paterson -in <cite>A Son of the Plains</cite>.... The interest never flags for a single -instant.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GLASGOW HERALD</cite>—“There is a fine spirit of adventure about -this story.... Mr. Paterson is, as it were, a Fenimore Cooper born -out of due time, and his story is distinctly clever and exciting.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SCOTSMAN</cite>—“A better story of love and adventure, specially adventure, -neither boy nor man has any need to desire.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ADMIRALTY GAZETTE</cite>—“A graphic and extremely readable tale -of western frontier life.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>WHITEHALL REVIEW</cite>—“The author has succeeded in producing -a work that will rank among high-class fiction, and as a wholesome book -for boys nothing will be more eagerly welcomed.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPEAKER</cite>—“His new story is as thrilling, as brimful of adventure -and incident, and as graphic in narration as anything he has yet written.... -To say that there is not a dull page in the story is to understate -the case.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>FOR PRINCE & PEOPLE</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><span class="blackletter">A Tale of Old Genoa</span></div> - <div class='c000'>BY</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'>E.K. SANDERS</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>MANCHESTER GUARDIAN</cite>—“A spirited story of political -strife in Genoa in the sixteenth century. The conclusion does not land -us in fairyland, but if the sober colouring of a work-a-day world would -be not an absolute bar to the enjoyment of youthful readers the book -can be heartily recommended to them, both for its sustained interest -and for the high tone pervading it.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SCOTSMAN</cite>—“The plot is well conceived and well handled.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>RED ROWANS</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By Mrs. F.A. STEEL</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>AUTHOR OF “ON THE FACE OF THE WATERS”</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>STANDARD</cite>—“Mrs. Steel’s book is healthy and well written, full -of rational optimism and sympathetic understanding of poor human -nature.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE</cite>—“Judge it by what canons of criticism you -will, the book is a work of art.... The story is simple enough, -but it is as life-like as anything in modern fiction. The people speak -and act as people do act and speak. There is not a false note throughout. -Mrs. Steel draws children as none but a master hand can draw.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>BLACK AND WHITE</cite>—“It reveals keen sympathy with nature, -and clever portraiture, and it possesses many passages both humorous -and pathetic.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>NATIONAL OBSERVER</cite>—“Her cleverness reveals itself in many -a felicitous phrase expressive of just judgment and earnest thought.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ST. JAMES’S GAZETTE</cite>—“It is such as goes far towards the -making of a solid and enduring reputation.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GLASGOW HERALD</cite>—“Her book is a notable one.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SCOTSMAN</cite>—“It is not every day that one lights on a story so -entertaining, clever, and at times even brilliant.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PUBLISHERS’ CIRCULAR</cite>—“The story is thoroughly interesting -throughout, being clever alike in its style, plot, and character -drawing.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>WESTMINSTER GAZETTE</cite>—“<cite>Red Rowans</cite> is far and away -above the average of novels, and, without doubt, one of those books -which no reader of current fiction should miss.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY NEWS</cite>—“The book is written with distinction. It is -moving, picturesque, the character drawing is sensitive and strong.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span><em>Crown 8vo. 6s.</em></div> - <div class='c000'><strong><span class='xlarge'>THE FALL OF A STAR</span></strong></div> - <div class='c000'><span class="blackletter">A Novel</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'>SIR WM. MAGNAY, <span class='sc'>Bart.</span></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE</cite>—“Its interest is breathless and cumulative -from the first page to the last.”</p> - -<hr class='c028' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>WORKS BY RUDYARD KIPLING.</div> - <div class='c000'><em>Crown 8vo. 6s. each.</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-l c029'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>THE LIGHT THAT FAILED.</div> - <div class='line'>SOLDIERS THREE.</div> - <div class='line'>WEE WILLIE WINKIE.</div> - <div class='line'>LIFE’S HANDICAP.</div> - <div class='line'>MANY INVENTIONS.</div> - <div class='line'>PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS.</div> - <div class='line'>SOLDIER TALES.</div> - <div class='line'>THE FIRST JUNGLE BOOK.</div> - <div class='line'>THE SECOND JUNGLE BOOK.</div> - <div class='line'>CAPTAINS COURAGEOUS.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>80,000 copies of this work have been sold.</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'><em>Fcap. 8vo. 6s.</em></span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'><strong>THE CHOIR INVISIBLE</strong></span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'>JAMES LANE ALLEN</span></div> - <div class='c000'>AUTHOR OF “SUMMER IN ARCADY,” “A KENTUCKY CARDINAL,” ETC.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ACADEMY</cite>—“A book to read, and a book to keep after reading. Mr. Allen’s -gifts are many—a style pellucid and picturesque, a vivid and disciplined power -of characterization, and an intimate knowledge of a striking epoch and an alluring -country.... So magical is the wilderness environment, so fresh the characters, -so buoyant the life they lead, so companionable, so well balanced, and so -touched with humanity, the author’s personality, that I hereby send him greeting -and thanks for a brave book.... <cite>The Choir Invisible</cite> is a fine achievement.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>PALL MALL GAZETTE</cite>—“Mr. Allen’s power of character drawing invests the -old, old story with renewed and absorbing interest.... The fascination of -the story lies in great part in Mr. Allen’s graceful and vivid style.“</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY MAIL</cite>—”<cite>The Choir Invisible</cite> is one of those very few books which help -one to live. And hereby it is beautiful even more than by reason of its absolute -purity of style, its splendid descriptions of nature, and the level grandeur of its -severe, yet warm and passionate atmosphere.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>BRITISH WEEKLY</cite>—“Certainly this is no commonplace book, and I have -failed to do justice to its beauty, its picturesqueness, its style, its frequent -nobility of feeling, and its large, patient charity.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPEAKER</cite>—“We trust that there are few who read it who will fail to regard -its perusal as one of the new pleasures of their lives.... One of those rare -stories which make a direct appeal alike to the taste and feeling of most men and -women, and which afford a gratification that is far greater than that of mere -critical approval. It is, in plain English, a beautiful book—beautiful in language -and in sentiments, in design and in execution. Its chief merit lies in the fact -that Mr. Allen has grasped the true spirit of historical romance, and has shown -how fully he understands both the links which unite, and the time-spaces which -divide, the different generations of man.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SATURDAY REVIEW</cite>—“Mr. James Lane Allen is a writer who cannot well -put pen to paper without revealing how finely sensitive he is to beauty.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>BOOKMAN</cite>—“The main interest is not the revival of old times, but a love-story -which might be of to-day, or any day, a story which reminds one very -pleasantly of Harry Esmond and Lady Castlewood.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ATLANTIC MONTHLY</cite>—“We think he will be a novelist, perhaps even a great -novelist—one of the few who hold large powers of divers sort in solution to be -precipitated in some new unexpected form.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>GUARDIAN</cite>—“One of those rare books that will bear reading many times.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY NEWS</cite>—“Mr. J.L. Allen shows himself a delicate observer, and a fine -literary artist in <cite>The Choir Invisible</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>ST. JAMES’ GAZETTE</cite>—“A book that should be read by all those who ask for -something beside sensationalism in their fiction.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>SPECTATOR</cite>—“Marked by beauty of conception, reticence of treatment, and -it has an atmosphere all its own.”</p> - -<p class='c017'><cite>DAILY CHRONICLE</cite>—“It is written with singular delicacy and has an old-world -fragrance which seems to come from the classics we keep in lavender.... -There are few who can approach his delicate execution in the painting of ideal -tenderness and fleeting moods.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div>MACMILLAN AND CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span>, LONDON</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<p class='c017'><a id='endnote'></a></p> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c018'> - <div><span class='large'>Transcriber’s Note</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c017'>The following issues should be noted. In general obvious errors were corrected -and noted below. The use of the ‘ā’ in Windāhgal, a place name, is almost -universal, and has been corrected where the printer occasionally neglected to -employ it. Where the author’s intent is unclear, the text is retained.</p> - -<p class='c017'>Errors of punctuation in the advertisement section at the end of the -text were corrected, silently, in the interest of consistency.</p> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='15%' /> -<col width='61%' /> -<col width='23%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c030'>p. 9</td> - <td class='c030'>Reisling</td> - <td class='c024'><em>Sic.</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c030'>p. 40</td> - <td class='c030'>[“]but Mrs. Grandison</td> - <td class='c024'>Removed.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c030'>p. 107</td> - <td class='c030'>—he[—]added—</td> - <td class='c024'>Spurious dash removed.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c030'></td> - <td class='c030'>[‘]We colonists</td> - <td class='c024'>Added.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c030'>p. 286</td> - <td class='c030'>[“]as the energetic proprietors</td> - <td class='c024'>Removed.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c030'>p. 315</td> - <td class='c030'>so say all of us,[”] my dear</td> - <td class='c024'>Removed.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Plain Living, by Rolf Boldrewood - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLAIN LIVING *** - -***** This file should be named 51404-h.htm or 51404-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/0/51404/ - -Produced by KD Weeks, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - - </body> - <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.54 on 2016-03-08 07:52:24 GMT --> -</html> diff --git a/old/51404-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/51404-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8961735..0000000 --- a/old/51404-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51404-h/images/i_002.jpg b/old/51404-h/images/i_002.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6ad929f..0000000 --- a/old/51404-h/images/i_002.jpg +++ /dev/null |
