 Part 2 Chapter 2 But his first treatment of Purdy's wound was also his last. Two nights later he found the hut deserted, and diligently as he prowled around it in the moonlight he could discover no clue to the fate of its occupants. There was nothing to be done but to head his horse for home again. Polly was more fortunate. Within three days of the fight Ned turned up sound as a bell. He was sporting a new hat, a flashy silk-neckochiff and a silver watch and chain. At sight of these kick-shares a dismal suspicion entered Marnie's mind and refused to be dislodged, but he did not breathe his doubts for Polly's sake. Polly was rapturously content to see her brother again. She threw her arms around his neck and listened with her big black innocent eyes, except for their fleckless candour the counterpart of Ned's own, to the tale of his miraculous escape and of the rich gutter he had had the good luck to strike. Meanwhile public feeling exasperated beyond measure by the tragedy of that summer dawn slowly subsided. Hesitation, timidity and a very human waiting on success had helped many diggers back from joining in the final coup, but the sympathy of the community was with the rebels and at the funerals of the fallen hundreds of mourners in such black coats as they could muster marched side by side to the wild little unfenced bush cemetery. When, too, the relief party arrived from Melbourne and martial law was proclaimed, the residents handed over their firearms as ordered, but an attempt to swear in special constables failed, not a soul stepping forward in support of the Government. There was literally nothing doing during the month the military occupied Ballarat. Marnie seized the opportunity to give his back premises a coat of paint. He also began to catalogue his collection of leper-doctora. Hence as far as business was concerned, it was a timely moment for the arrival of a letter from Henry Ock Ock to the effect that, subject, of course, to any part-heard case, our case was first on the list for a date early in January. Nonetheless, the announcement threw Marnie into the fidgets. He had almost clean forgotten the plague-year fair. It had its roots in the dark days before his marriage. He wished now he had thought twice before letting himself be entangled in a lawsuit. Now he had a wife dependent on him, and to lose the case and be held responsible for costs would cripple him. And such a verdict was not at all unlikely for Purdy his chief witness could not be got at. The Lord alone knew where Purdy lay hid. He had once sat down and wrote the bad news to his solicitor. At six o'clock in the morning some few days later he took his seat on the coach for Melbourne. By his side sat Johnny Ock Ock, the elder of the two brothers. Johnny had by chance been within earshot during the negotiations with the rascally carrier, and on learning this Henry had straightaway subpoenaed him. Marnie was none too well pleased. The boy threatened to be a handful. His old father on delivering him up at the coach office had drawn Marnie a side to whisper. Don't let the young limaddy a side-dock or get a nip or sip a liquor, if he so much as wets his tongue there's no holding him. Johnny was a lean, pimply-faced youth with cold, flabby hands. Little Polly had to stay behind. Marnie would have liked to give her the trip and show her the sights of the capital, but the law courts were no place for a woman. Neither could he leave her sitting alone in a hotel. And a tentative letter to her brother John had not called forth an invitation. Mrs. Emma was in delicate health at present, and had no mind for visitors. So he committed Polly to the care of Hempel and Long Jim, both of whom were her faithful henchmen. She herself, in proper, wifely fashion, proposed to give her little house a good red-up in this master's absence. Marnie and Johnny dismounted from the coach in the early afternoon, sore, stiff and hungry. They had broken their fast merely on half a dozen sandwiches, keeping their seats the while, that the young topper might be spared the sight of intoxicating liquors. Now, stopping only to brush off the top layer of dusk and snatch a bite of solid food, Marnie hastened away his witness-at-heel to Chancery Lane. It was a relief to find that Ock Ock was not greatly put out at Purdy having failed them. Leave it to us, so we'll make that all right. As on the previous visit he dry-washed his hands while he spoke, and his little eyes shot flashes from one to the other like electric sparks. He proposed just to run through the morrow's evidence with our young friend there. And in the course of this rehearsal said more than once, Good, good, why, sonny, you're quite smart. This when Johnny succeeded in grasping his drift. But at the least hint of unreadiness or hesitation he tut-tutted and drew his brows together. And as it went on it seemed to Marnie that Ock Ock was putting words into the boy's mouth while Johnny intimidated said yes and our men to things he could not possibly know. Presently he interfered to this effect. Ock brushed his remark aside. But after a second interruption from Marnie, I think so with your permission we will ask John not to depart from what he actually heard. The lawyer shuffled his papers into a heap and said that would do for to-day they would meet at the court in the morning. Prior to shaking hands, however, he threw out a hint that he would like a word with his brother on family matters. And for half an hour Marnie paced the street below. The remainder of the day was spent in keeping Johnny out of temptation's way in trying to interest him in the life of the city its monuments and curiosities. But the lad was too apathetic to look about him and never opened his mouth. Once only in the course of the afternoon did he offer a kind of handle. In their peregrinations they passed a book arcade where Marnie stopped to turn the leaves of a volume. Johnny also took up a book and began to read. What is it to us, Marnie? Would you like to have it, my boy? Johnny stonely accepted the gift. It was a tale of red Indians, the pages smudged with gaudy illustrations, and put it under his arm. At the good supper that was set before him he picked with a meager zest and then fell asleep. Marnie took the opportunity to write a line to Polly to tell of their safe arrival and having sealed the letter ran out to post it. He was not away for more than three minutes but when he came back Johnny was gone. He hunted high and low for him, ransacked the place without success. The boy had spoken to no one nor had he been seen to leave the coffee-room and as the clock hands were nearing twelve Marnie was obliged to give up the search and go back to the hotel. It was impossible at that hour to let Ock Ock know of this fresh piece of ill luck. Besides there was just a chance the young scamp would turn up in the morning. Morning came, however, and no Johnny with it. Outwitted and chagrined Marnie set off for the court alone. Day had broken dim and misty, and by the time breakfast was over a north wind was raging, a furnace-like blast that bore off the sandy deserts of the interior. The sun was a yellow blotch in a copper sky, the thermometer had leapt to a hundred and ten in the shade. Blinding clouds of coarse gritty dust swept house high through the streets. Half suffocated Marnie fought his way along, his veil lowered his handkerchief at his mouth. Outside those public houses that advertised ice, crowd stood waiting their turn of entry, while half-naked barman, their linen trousers drenched with sweat, worked like niggers to mix drinks which had quenched these bottomless thirsts. Marnie believed he was the only perfectly sober person in the lobby of the court. Even Ock Ock himself would seem to have been indulging. This suspicion was confirmed by the lawyer's behaviour. No sooner did Ock Ock us by him than up he rushed, brandishing the note that had been got to him early that morning, and now his eyes looked like little dabs of pitch in his chalk-white face, and his manner stripped of its veneer let the real man show through. "'Curs it, sir, and what's the meaning of this I'd like to know?' he cried and struck at the sheet of note-paper with his free hand. A pretty fix to put us in at the last minute upon my word. It was your business, sir, to nurse your witness. After all the trouble I'd been to with him, what the devil do you expect us to do now?' Marnie's face paled under its top dressing of dust and moisture, to Ock Ock's gross, while its your own look-out can found you entirely your own look-out. He returned a cool, certainly, then moved to one side and took up his stand in a corner of the hall out of the way of the jostle and bustle, the constant going and coming that gave the hinges of the door no rest. When after a weary wait the time came to enter court he continued to give Ock Ock, who had been deep in consultation with his clerk, a wide berth, and moved forward among a number of other people. A dark ladder-like stare led to the upper story. While he was mounting this, some words exchanged in a low tone behind him arrested his attention. "'Are you OK, old man?' "'We are, if our client doesn't give us away, but he has to be handled like a hot.' Here the sentence snapped, for Marnie, bitten by a sudden doubt, faced sharply around. But it was a stranger who uncivially accused him of treading on his toe. The court, it was not much more than twenty feet square, was like an ill-smelling oven. Every chink and crack had been stopped against the searing wind, and the atmosphere was a brew of all the sour odours, the offensive breaths, given off by the two-score odd people crushed within its walls. In spite of precautions the dust had got in, it lay thick on sills, desks, and papers, gritted between the teeth, and made the throat raspy as a file. Marnie had given up all hope of winning his case, and looked forward to the sorry pleasure of assisting at a miscarriage of justice. During the speech for the plaintiff, however, he began to see the matter in another light. Not so much thanks to the speaker as in spite of him. Plaintiff's counsel was a common little fellow of ungainly appearance, a double roll of fat bulged over the neck of his gown, and his wig hastily redond after a breathing space sat askew. Nor was he anything of an orator. He stumbled over his sentences, and once or twice lost his place altogether. To his dry presentment of the case nobody seemed to pay heed. The judge, tired of wiping his spectacles dry, lent back and closed his eyes. Marnie believed he slept, as did also some of the jurors, deft to the citation of Dawes v. Peck and Dunlop v. Lambert, to the assertion that the carrier was the agent the goods were accepted the property had passed. This passing of the property was evidently a strong point. The plaintiff's name itself was not much offener on the speaker's lips. The absconding driver, Milad, was a personal friend of the defendants. Mr. Boliver never knew him, hence could not engage him. Had this person not been thrust upon him, Mr. Boliver would have employed the same carrier as on a previous occasion. And so on and on. Marnie listened, hand at ear, that organ not being keyed up to the mutterings and mumblings of justice. And for all the dullness of the subject matter and counsel's lack of eloquence his interest did not flag. It was the first time he heard the case for the other side stated plainly, and he was dismayed to find how convincing it was. But thus it must surely gain over every honest straight-thinking man. In comparison the points Ock Ock was going to advance shrank to mere legal quibbles and hair-splitting evasions. Then the plaintiff himself went into the witness-box, and Marnie's feelings became involved as well. This, his adversary, this poor old mangy grey beard who stood blinking a pair of roomy eyes and weakly smiling. One did not pit oneself against such human flotsam. Drunkard was stamped on every inch of the man, but this morning, in odd exception to the well-primed crew around him, he was sober, bewilderedly sober, and his shabby clothing was brushed, his frayed collar clean. Recognising the pitiful bid for sympathy, Marnie caught himself thinking, Good Lord, I could have supplied him with a coat he'd have cut a better figure in than that. Oliver clutched the edge of the box with his two hands. His unusual condition was a hindrance rather than a help to him. Without a peg or two his woolly thoughts were not to be disentangled. He stammered forth his evidence, halting either to piece together what he was going to say, or to recollect what he'd just said. It was clear he went in mortal fear of contradicting himself. The scene was painful enough while he faced his own counsel, but when counsel for the defense rose a half hour followed in which Marnie wished himself far from the court. Oliver could not come to the point. Counsel was merciless and coarsely jocose and brought off several laughs. His victim wound his knotty hands in and out, and swallowed oftener than he had saliva for, in a forlorn endeavour to evade the pitful's artfully dug for him. More than once he threw a covered glance that was like an appeal for help at all the indifferent faces. Marnie drooped his head that their eyes should not meet. In high feather at the effect he was producing, counsel inserted his left arm under his gown and held the stuff out from his back with the tips of all five fingers. And now you'll perhaps have the goodness to tell us whether you've ever had occasion to send goods by a carrier before in the course of your young life. Yes. It was a humble monosyllable, returned without spirit. Then, of course, you've heard of this Murphy. No, I haven't, answered Oliver, and let his vacillating eyes wander to the judge in back. You tell that to the marines. And after half a dozen other tricky questions, I put it to you, it's a well-known fact that he's been a carrier here abouts for the last couple of years or more. I don't know, I suppose so. Oliver's tongue grew heavy and tripped up his words. And yet you've the cheek, you old rogue, you, to insinuate that this was a put-up job. I only say what I heard. I don't care a button what you heard or didn't hear. What I ask, my pretty, is do you yourself say so? The defendant recommended him. I put it to you, this man Murphy is one of the best-known carriers in Melbourne, and that was why the defendant recommended him. Are you out to deny it? No. Then you can stand down, and leaning over to Grindel, who is below him, counsel whispered with a pleased spread of the hand, There you are, that's our case. There was a painful moment just before Oliver left the witness-box, As if become suddenly alive to the sorry figure he had cut, he turned to the judge with hands clasped, exclaimed, My Lord, if the case goes against me, I'm done, stony broke, and the defendant's got it down on me. My Lord, he's made up his mind to ruin me. Look at him as set in there, a hard man, a mean man, if ever you saw one. What would the bit of money have meant to him, but— He was rudely silenced and hustled away to a sharp rebuke from the judge who woke up to give it. All eyes were turned on Marnie. Under the fire of observation, they were comparing him he knew with the poor old Jeremy Didler yonder, to the latter's disadvantage, his spine stiffened, and he held himself nervously erect. But the quizzing at an end he fumbled with his finger at his neck, his collar seemed to have grown too tight, while without the hot blast dark with dust flung itself against the corners of the house, and howled like a soul in pain. Council for the defence made an excellent impression. Naturally, I can afford to pay a better-class man was Marnie's caustic note. He had fallen to scribbling on a sheet of paper, and was resigned to sitting through an adept presentment of Ock Ock's shifts and dodgers. But the opening words made him prick up his ears. My Lord, said Council, I submit there is here no case to go to the jury. No written contract existed between the parties to bring it within the statute of frauds. Therefore the plaintiff must prove that the defendant accepted these goods. Now I submit to you, on the plaintiff's own admission, that the man Murphy was a common carrier. Your lordship will know the cases of Hanson versus Armitage and various others, in which it has been established beyond doubt that a carrier is not an agent to accept goods. The judge had revived, and while Council called the quality of the under-libered goods in question, and laid stress on the fact of no money having passed, he turned the pages of a thick red book with a moistened thumb. Having found what he sought, he pushed up his spectacles, opened his mouth, and his eyes bent meditatively on the speaker, picked a back tooth with the nail of his first finger. Therefore, concluded Council, I hold that there is no question of fact to go to the jury. I do not wish to occupy your lordship's time any further upon this submission. I have my client here, and all his witnesses are in court, who I am prepared to call should your lordship decide against me on the present point. But I do submit that the plaintiff on his own showing has made out no case, and that under the circumstances upon his own evidence this action must fail. At the reference to witnesses Marnie dug his pencil into the paper till the point snapped, so this was their little game. And should the bluff not work, he sat rigid, staring at the chipped fragment of lead, and did not look up throughout the concluding scene of the farce. It was over. The judge had decided in his favour. He jumped to his feet, and his coat sleeve swept the dust off the entire length of the ledge in front of him. But before he reached the foot of the stairs, Grindel came flying down to say that Ockock wished to speak to him. Very good, replied Marnie, he would call at the office in the course of the afternoon. But the clock left the courthouse at his side, and suddenly the thought flashed through Marnie's mind. The fellow suspects me of trying to do a bolt of wanting to make off without paying my bill. The leech-like fashion in which Grindel stuck to his heels was not to be misread. This is what they call nursing, I suppose. His nursing, me now, said Marnie to himself. At the same time he reckoned up with some anxiety the money he had in his pocket should it prove insufficient who knew what further affronts were in store for him. But Ockock had recovered his oily sleekness. A close shave, that sir, a very close shave. With Warnock on the bench I thought we could manage to pull it off, had it been guppy now, still, all swell at ends well, as the poet says, and now for a trifling matter of business. How much do I owe you? The bill, it was already drawn up, for solicitors and clients' costs came to twenty-odd pounds. Marnie paid it and stalked out of the office. But this was still not all. Once again Grindel ran after him and pinned him to the floor. I say, Mr. Marnie, a rare joke. God, it's enough to make you burst your sides. That old thingamabob, the plaintiff, you know. Now, what on earth do you think he's gone and been and done? Gets out a cork, like a one o'clock, he's a sort of rabbit-fancying business in his back-yard. Well, Omi trots and slits the guts of every blamed bunny and chucks the bloody corpses into the street. Oh, Lord, what do you say to that, eh? Unfurnished in the upper storey, what? Ha-ha-ha! End of part two, chapter two. Part two, chapter three of Australia Felix. The box recording is in the public domain. Australia Felix by Henry Handel Richardson. Part two, chapter three. How truly home the poor little Jim Crack Shanty had become to him, Marnie grasped only when he once more crossed its threshold and polys arms lay around his neck. His search for Johnny Ockock had detained him in Melbourne for over a week. Under the guidance of young Grindel, he had scoured the city, not omitting even the dens of infamy in the Chinese quarter, and he did not know which to be saddened by the revolting sights he saw or his guides' proud familiarity with every shade of vice. But nothing could be heard of the missing lad, and at the suggestion of Henry Ockock he put in advertisement in the Argus offering a substantial reward for news of Johnny alive or dead. While waiting to see what this would bring forth he paid a visit to John Turnham. It had not been a part of his scheme to trouble his new relatives on this occasion he bore them a grudge for the way they had met Polly's overture. But he was at his wits' end how to kill time. Chafing at the delay was his main employment if he were not worrying over the thought of having to appear before old Ockock without his son. So one midday he called at Turnham's place of business in Flinders Lane and was affably received by John, who carried him off to lunch at the Melbourne Club. Turnham was a warm partisan of the Diggers' cause. He had addressed a mass meeting held in Melbourne soon after the fight on the Eureka, and he now roundly condemned the Government's policy of repression. I am, as you are aware, my dear Marnie, no sentimentalist, but these rioters of yours seem to me the very type of man the country needs. Could we have a better bedrock on which to build than these fearless champions of liberty?" He set an excellent meal before his brother-in-law and himself ate and drank heartily, unfolding his very table napkin with a kind of relish. In lunching he inquired the object of Marnie's journey to town. At the mention of Henry Ockock's name he raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. Ah, indeed, then it is hardly necessary to ask the upshot. He poo-pooed Marnie's intention of staying until the defaulting witness was found, disapproved to the offer of a reward. To be paid out of your pocket, of course. No, my dear Marnie, set your mind at rest and return to your wife. Lads of that sort never come to grief, moors the pity. By the by, how is Polly, and how does she like life on the diggings? In this connection Marnie tended congratulations on the expected addition to Turnham's family. John embarked readily enough on the theme of his beautiful wife, but into his voice as he talked came a note of impatience or annoyance which formed an odd contrast to his won't itself possession. Yes, her third, and for some reason which I cannot fathom it threatens to prove the most trying of any. And here he went into medical detail on Mrs. Emma's state. Marnie urged compliance with the whims of the mother-to-be, even should they seem extravagant. Believe me, at a time like this such moods and caprices have their use, nature very well knows what she's about. Nature—bar, I'm no great believer in nature—gave back John and emptied his glass of Madeira. Nature exists to be coerced and improved. They parted, and Marnie went back to twirl his thumbs in the hotel coffee-room. He could not persuade himself to take Turnham's advice and leave Johnnie to his fate, and the delay was nearly over. At dawn next morning, Johnnie was found lying in a pitiable condition at the door of the hotel. It took Marnie the best part of the day to rouse him, to make him understand he was not to be horse-whipped, to purchase a fresh suit of clothing for him, to get him in short halfway ready to travel the following day. A blear-eyed, weak-witted craven who fell into a cold sweat at every bump of the coach. Not until they reached the end of the awful journey, even a Chinaman rose to impudence about Johnnie's nerves, his foul breath, his cracked lips, did Marnie learn how the wretched boy had come by the money for his debauch? At the public-house where the coach drew up, Old Ockock stood grimly waiting with the leather thong at his belt and the news that his till had been broken open and robbed of its contents. With an involuntary recommendation to mercy Marnie handed over the culprit and turned his steps home. Polly stood on tiptoe to kiss him, Pompey barked till the roof rang, making leaps that fell wide of the mark. The cat hoisted its tail and wound purring in and out between his legs. Tea was spread on a clean cloth with all sorts of good things to eat. An English male had brought him a bunch of letters and journals. All together it was a very happy homecoming. When he had had a sponge down and finished tea over which he listened with a zest that surprised him to a hundred and one domestic details, afterwards he and Polly strolled arm in arm to the top of the little hill to which before marriage he used to carry her letters. Here they sat and talked until night fell and for the first time Marnie tasted the dregless pleasure of coming back from the world outside with his toll of adventure and disinterested sympathy. Agreeable incidents gained, those that were the reverse of pleasing lost their sting by being shared with Polly. Not that he told her everything, of the dark side of life he greatly preferred little Polly to remain ignorant. Still, as far as it went, it was a delightful experience. In return he confessed to her something of the uncertainty that had beset him on hearing his opponent's counsel state the case for the other side. He was inviting to think he might be suspected of advancing a claim that was not strictly just. Suspected, you, oh, how could anybody be so silly? For all the fatigues of his day Marnie could not sleep, and after tossing and tumbling for some time he rose, threw on his clothing and went out to smoke a pipe in front of the store. Various worries were pecking at him. The hint he had given Polly of their existence seemed to have let them fairly loose upon him. To be, he was suspected of having connived at the imposture by which his suit was won. Why else have put it in the hands of such a one as Ock Ock? John Turnham's soundless whistle of astonishment recurred to him, and flicked him. Imagine it! He, Richard Marnie, giving his sanction to these queasy tricks. It was bad enough to know that Ock Ock at any rate had believed him not a verse from winning by unjust means. Yet on the whole he thought this mortified him less than to feel that he had won a simple Simon whom it was easy to impose on. Ah, well, at best he had been but a kind of guy set up for them to let off their verbal fireworks round. Faith, and that was all these loyal fellows, wanted the ghost of an excuse for parading their skill. Just as played a negligible role in the battle of wits, else not he, but the plaintiff would have come out victorious. That wretched Bolliver! The memory of him wincing and flushing in the witness-box would haunt him for the rest of his days. He could see him, too, with equal clearness, broken-heartedly slitting the gizzards of his pets. A poor old derelict, the armen to a life which, like most lives, had once been flushed with promise. And it had been his, Marnie's, honourable portion to give the last kick, the ultimate shove into perdition. Why, he would rather have lost the money ten times over. To divert his mind he began next morning to make an inventory of the goods in the store. It was high time, too, thanks to the recent disturbances he didn't know where he stood, and while he was about it he gave the place a general clean-up. A job of this kind was a powerful ally in keeping edge thoughts at bay. He and his men had their hands full for several days. Polly, who was not allowed to set foot in the store, peeping critically in at them to see how they progressed. And after that there was little Polly herself. He loved to contemplate her. Six months of married life had worked certain changes in his black-eyed slip of a girl, but something of the dough-like shyness that had caught his fancy still clung to her. With strangers she could even yet be touchingly bashful. Not long out of short frocks she found it difficult to stand upon her dignity as Mrs. Dr. Marnie. Besides it was second nature to Polly to efface herself to mouselier way. Unless, of course, someone needed help or was in distress, in which case she forgot to be shy. To her husband's habits and idiosyncrasies she had adapted herself implicitly, but this came easy, for she was sure everything Richard did was right, and that his way of looking at things was the one and only way. So there was no room for discord between them. By this time Polly could laugh over the dismay of her first homecoming for a pitch-dark night and unfamiliar mode, the racket of the serenade, the apparition of the great spider. Now all this might have happened to somebody else, not Polly Marnie. Her dislike of things that creep and crawl was it his true inborn and persisted, but nowadays if one of the many triumphalopes that infested the roof showed its hairy legs she had only to call hemple and out the latter would pop with a broomstick to do away with the creature. If a scorpion or a centipede wriggled from under her neck Tom would bring the idle lad next door double-quick over the fence. Polly had learned not to summon her husband on these occasions, for Richard held the maxim live and let live. If at night a tarantula appeared on the bedroom wall he caught it in a covered glass and carried it outside. Just to let it come in again was her rueful reflection. But indeed Polly was surrounded by willing helpers and small wonder thought Marnie. Her young nerves were so sound that hemple's dry cough never grated them. She docked at him and fussed over him and was worried that she could not cure him. She met long Jim's grumbles with a sunny face and listened patiently to his four bowdings that he would never see home or his old woman again. She even brought out a clumsy good will in the young varment Tom, nor did his old father's want of refinement repel her. But Richard he's such a kind old woman's admission of this stumbling block and it isn't his fault that he wasn't properly educated, he's had to work for his living ever since he was twelve years old. And Mr. Ockock cried quits by remarking confidentially, that little lady of yours has got a red piece screwed on the right way. It beats me, Doc, why you don't take her into the store and learn o' the business. No offence, I'm sure," he made haste to add, disconcerted by Marnie's cold stare. When one at this date tried to tell Polly she lived in a mean, rough home he would have had a poor reception. Polly was long since certain that not a house on the diggings could compare with theirs. This was a trait Marnie loved in her, her sterling loyalty, a loyalty that embraced not only her dear ones themselves but every stick and stone belonging to them. His discovery of it helped him to understand her allegiance to her own multicolored family. In the beginning he had sincerity. Now he knew her better. It was just as though a sixth sense had been implanted in Polly enabling her to pierce straight through John's self-sufficiency or Ned's vaporings to the real kernel of goodness that no doubt lay hid below. He himself could not get at it, but then his powers of divination were the exact opposite of Polly's. He was always struck by the weak or ridiculous side of a person and had to dig laboriously down to the virtues, while his young wife, by a kind of genius, saw the good at a glance and saw nothing else. And she did not stint with her gift or hoard it up solely for use on her own kith and kin. Her splendid sympathy was the reverse of clannish it was applied to every mortal who crossed her path. Yes, for all her youth Polly had quite a character of her own, and even thus early her husband sometimes ran up against a certain native sturdiness of opinion. But this did not displease him. On the contrary, he would have thanked you for a wife who was only an echo of himself to take the case of the animals. He had a profound respect for those creatures to which speech has been denied and he treated the four footers that dwelt under his roof as his fellows humanizing them, reading his own thoughts into them, and showing more consideration for their feelings than if they had been able to speak up for themselves. Polly saw this in the light of an exquisite joke. She was always kind to Pompey in the stately Palmerston, and would as soon have forgotten a set Richard's dinner before him as to feed the pair. But they remained the dog and the cat to her, and if they had enough to eat and received neither kicks nor blows she couldn't conceive of their souls asking more. It went beyond her to study the cat's dislike to being turned off its favorite chair or to believe that the dog did not make dirty prints on her fresh-grubbed floor out of malice propense. It was also incredible that he should have doggy fits of depression in which up he must to stick a cold slobbery snout into a warm human hand. And when Richard tried to conciliate Palmerston's stalking Salky to the door or to pet away the melancholy in the rejected Pompey's eyes Polly had to lay down her sewing and laugh at her husband so greatly did his behavior amuse her. Again there was the question of literature. Books to Marnie were almost as necessary as bread. To his girl wife on the other hand they seemed a somewhat needless luxury less vital by far than the animals that walked the floor. She took great care of the precious volumes Richard had carted up from Melbourne but the cost of the transport was what impressed her most. It was not an overstatement thought Marnie to say that a stack of well-chopped neatly piled wood meant more to Polly than all the books ever written. Not that she did not enjoy a good story. Her work done she liked few things better and he often smiled at the ease with which he lived herself into the world of make-believe knowing of course that it was make-believe in just a kind of humbug. But poetry and the higher fiction little Polly's professed love of poetry had been merely a concession to the conventional idea of girlhood or at best such a burning wish to be all her Richard desired that at the moment she was convinced of the truth that she said. But did he read to her from his favourite authors her attention would wander in spite of the efforts she made to pin it down. Marnie declaimed "'Tis the sunset of life gives us mystical law and coming events cast their shadows before.' And his pleasure in the swing of the couplet was such that he repeated it. Polly wakened with a start her thoughts had been miles away had been back at the family hotel there Purdy after several adventures his poor leg a massive separation had at length but taken himself to be looked after by his tilly and Polly's hopes were all alight again. She blushed guiltily at the repetition and asked her husband to say the lines again. He did so. "'But they don't really Richard do they?' she said in an apologetic tone she referred to the casting of shadows. It would be so useful if they did. And she drew a sigh at Purdy's illiterate treatment of the girl who loved him so well. "'Oh, you prosaic little woman!' cried Marnie, and laid down his book to kiss her. It was impossible to be mixed with Polly. She was so honest, so transparent. Did you never hear of a certain something called poetic license?' No. Polly was more or less familiar with various other forms of license from the gold-diggers that had caused all the fuss and absence by which she'd been married. But this particular one had not come her way. And on Richard explaining to her the Liberty poets allowed themselves, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair and was sorry to think he approved. It seemed to her just to find name for wanton exaggeration, if not something worse. Though also those long evenings they spent over the first hundred pages of Waverly, Marnie eager for her to share his enthusiasm comforted her tonight and knew that they would soon reach the story proper and then how interested she'd be. But the opening chapters were a sandy desert of words, all about people duller than any Polly had known alive. And sometimes before the book was brought out she would heave a secret sigh, although of course she enjoyed sitting cosily together with Richard watching him and listening to his voice. But they might have put their time to a pleasantly use by talking of themselves or how further to improve their home or what the store was doing. Marnie saw her smiling to herself one evening and after assuring himself that there was nothing on the page before him to call that please look to her young face he laid the book down and offered her a penny for her thoughts. But Polly was loath to confess to wall-gathering. I haven't succeeded in interesting you, have I, Polly-cans? She made haste to contradict him. Oh, it was very nice and she loved to hear him read. Come honestly now, little woman. She faced him squarely at that, though with pink cheeks. Well, not much, Richard. He took her on his knee. And what were you smiling at? Me, oh, I was just thinking of something that happened yesterday and Polly sat up a gog to tell. It appeared that the day before while he was out the digger's wife who did Polly's rough work for her had rushed in crying that her youngest was choking. Bonadless Polly had flown across to the woman's hut. There she discovered the child, a fat youngster of a year or so, purple in the face with a button wedged in its throat. Taking it by the heel she shook the child vigorously upside down and lo and behold this had the opposite effect to what she intended. When they straightened the child out again the button was found to have passed the danger point and gone down. Quickly resolved Polly cut a slice on slice of thin bread and butter and with this she and Mrs. Hamurder stuffed the willing babe until full to bursting it warded them off with its tiny hands. Marnie laughed heartily at the tail and applauded his wife's prompt measures. Short of the forceps nothing could have been better. Yes, Polly had a dash of native shrewdness which she prized and a pair of clever hands that were never idle. He had given her leave to make any changes she chose in the house and she was forever stitching away at white muslin or tacking it over pink calico. These affairs made their little home very spick and span and kept Polly from feeling dull if one could imagine Polly dull. With the cooking alone had there been a hitch in the beginning like a true expert Mrs. Beamish had not tolerated understudies none but the lowliest jobs such as raisin, stoning or potato peeling had fallen to the three girls' share and in face of her first foul Polly stood helpless and dismayed. But not for long. Sarah was applied to for the best cookery book on sale in Melbourne and when this arrived Polly gave herself up to the study of it. She had many failures both private and avowed. With the worst she either retired behind the wood-stack or Tom disposed of them for her or the dog ate them up. But she persevered and soon Marnie could with truth declare that no one raised a better loaf or had a lighter hand than his wife. Three knocks on the wooden partition was the signal which, if he were not serving a customer, summoned him to the kitchen. Oh, Richard, it's risen beautifully! And red with heat and pride Polly drew a great golden crusted blown-up sponge cake along the oven shelf. Richard, who had a sweet tooth pretended to be unable to curb his impatience. Wait! First I must see and she plunged a knife into the cake's heart. It came out untarnished. Yes, it's done to a turn. There and then it was cut, for, said Marnie, that was the only way in which he could make sure of a piece. Afterwards chunks were dealt out to every one Polly knew, to Long Jim, Hempel, Tommy Ockock, the little hermodors. Side by side on the kitchen table their feet dangling in the air husband and wife sat boy in girl fashion and munched hot cake till their appetites for dinner were wrecked. But the rains that heralded winter and they set in early that year had not begun to fall when more serious matters came to Marnie's attention. End of Part 2, Chapter 3 Part 2, Chapter 4 of Australia Felix this LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Australia Felix by Henry Handel Richardson Part 2, Chapter 4 It was an odd and inexplicable thing that business showed no sign of improving. Affairs on Ballarat had for months past run their usual prosperous course. The western township grew from day to day and was straggling right out to the banks of the Great Swamp. On the flat the deep sinking that was at present the rule some parties actually touched a depth of three hundred feet before bottoming had brought a fresh host of fortune hunters to the spot and the results obtained bid fair to rival those of the first golden year. The diggers' grievances and their conflict with the government were now a turned page. At a state trial all prisoners had been acquitted and a general amnesty declared for those rebels who were still at large. Unpopular ministers had resigned or died, a new constitution for the colony awaited the Royal Ascent and pending this two of the rebel leaders, now prominent townsmen, were chosen to sit in the Legislative Council. The future could not have looked drozier. For others that was. For him, Marnie, it helped more than one element of uncertainty. At no time had he come near to making a fortune out of store-keeping. For one thing he'd been too squeamish. From the outset he'd declined to soil his hands with surreptitious grog-selling. Nor would he be a party to that evasion of the law which consisted in overcharging on other goods and throwing in drinks free. Again he would rather have been hamstrung than stooped to the tricks in vogue with regard to the weighing of gold dust, the greased scales, the wet sponge, false beams, and so on. Accordingly he had a clearer conscience in the majority and a lighter till. But even at the legitimate ABC of business he'd proved a duffer. He had never, for instance, learned to be a really skilled hand at stocking a shop. Was an out-of-the-way article called for ten to one he'd run short of it, and the born shopman's knack of palming off or persuading to a makeshift was not his. Such goods as he had he did not press on people. His attitude was always that of take it or leave it. And he sometimes surprised a ridiculous feeling of satisfaction when he chased a drunken and insolent customer off the premises, or secured an hour's leisure unbroken by the jangle of the store-bell. Still in spite of everything he had until recently done well enough. Money was loose and the diggers, if given long credit when down on their luck, were in the main to be relied on to pay up when they struck the lead or tapped a pocket. There were reasons before now and things had always come right again. This made it hard for him to explain the present prolonged spell of dullness, that there was something more than ordinarily wrong first dawned on him during the stock-taking in summer. Hempel and he were constantly coming upon goods that had been too long on hand and were now fit only to be thrown away. Half a dozen boxes of currents showed a respectable growth of mould. A like fate had come upon some and not a bag of flour, but had developed a species of minute maggot. Rats had got at his coils of rope, one of which, sold in all good faith, had gone near causing the death of the digger who used it. The remains of some smoked fish were brought back and flung at his head with a shower of curses by a woman who had fallen ill through eating of it. And yet, in spite of the replenishing this involved, the order he sent to town that season was the smallest he'd ever given. For the first time he could not fill a drae but had to share one with a greenhorn who, if you please, was setting up at his very door. He and Hempel cracked their brains to account for the falling off, or at least he did. Afterwards he believed Hempel had suspected the truth and been too mealy-mouthed to speak out. It was Polly who, innocently, for of course he did not draw her into confidence, Polly supplied the clue from a piece of gossip brought to the house by the woman her murderer. It appeared that at the time of the war Marnie's open antagonism to the reform league had given offence all round to the extremists as well as to the more wary on whose behalf the league was drafted. They now got even with him by taking their custom elsewhere. He snorted with indignation on hearing of it then laughed ironically. He was expected, was he, not only to bring his personal tastes and habit into line with those of the majority but to deny his politics as well. And if he refused they would make it hard for him to earn a decent living in their midst. Nothing seemed easier to these unprincipled Democrats than for a man to cut his coat to suit his job. Only might as well just turn wig and be done with it. He sat over his account books. The pages were black with bad debts for Tucker. Here, however, was no mystery. The owners of these names, Perdy was among them, had without doubt been implicated in the Eureka riot and had made off and never returned. He struck a balance and found to his consternation that unless business took a turn for the better he would not be able to hold out beyond the end of the year. Afterwards he was blessed if he knew what was going to happen. The ingenious hemple was full of ideas for tempting back fortune. Opening a branch store on a new lead was one of them or removing bodily to Main Street. But ready money was the sin acquire none of such schemes and ready money he had not got. Since his marriage he had put by as good as nothing and the enlarging and improving of his house at that time had made a big hole in his bachelor savings. He did not feel justified at the present past in drawing on them anew. For one thing before summer was out there would be if all went well another mouth to feed, and that meant a variety of seen and unforeseen expenses. Such were the material anxieties he had to encounter in the course of that winter. Below was a subtler embarrassment work to destroy his peace. In face of the shortage of money he was obliged to thank his stars that he had not lost the miserable lawsuit of a few months back. At that happened he wouldn't at present have known where to turn. But this amounted to confessing his satisfaction at having pulled off his case pulled it off anyhow by no matter what crooked means. And as if this were not enough the last words he had heard Purdy say came back to sting him anew. The boy had accused him of judging a fight for freedom from a tradesman's standpoint. Now it might be said of him that he was viewing justice from the same angle. He had scorned the idea of distorting his political opinions to fit the trade by which he gained his bread. But it was a far more serious thing if his principles, his character, his sense of equity were all to be undermined as well. If he stayed here he would end by becoming as blunt to what was right and fair as of them. As it was he was no longer able to regard the two great landmarks of man's moral development liberty and justice from the point of view of an honest man and a gentleman. His self-annoyance was so great that it galvanized him to action. There and then he made up his mind. As soon as the child that was coming to them was old enough to travel he would sell out for what he could get and go back to the old country. Once upon a time he had hoped, when he went, to take down some with him towards first-rate English practice. Now he saw that this scheme had been a kind of jack-a-lantern, a marsh-light after which he might have danced for years to come. As matters stood he must need to be content if the passage money is paid he could scrape together enough to keep him afloat until he found a modest corner to slip into. His first impulse was to say nothing of this to his wife in the meantime, why unsettle her. But he had reckoned without the hope would leap his spirits made once his decision was taken. The winter sky was as blue as violets again above him. He turned out light-heartedly of a morning. It was impossible to hide the change in his mood from Polly even if it felt it fair to do so. Another thing, when he came to study Polly by the light of his new plan he saw that his scruples about unsettling her were fanciful, wraiths of his own imagining. As a matter of fact the sooner he knew the better. Little Polly was so thoroughly happy here that she would need time to accustom herself to the prospect of life elsewhere. He went about it very cautiously though and with no hint of the sour and sorry incidents that had driven him to this step. As was only natural Polly was rather easily upset at present the very evening before he had had occasion to blame himself for his tactless behaviour. In her first sick young fear Polly had impulsively written off for Beamish to claim the fulfilment of that good woman's promise to stand by her when her time came. One letter gave another. Mrs. Beamish not only announced that she would hold herself ready to support her little duck at a moment's notice, but filled sheets with sage advice and old wives maxims and the correspondence which had languished flared up anew. Now came an ill scrawl to misspelt a pistol from Tilly, doleful too, for Purdy had once more quitted her without speaking the binding word, in which she told that Purdy's leg, though healed, was permanently shortened, the doctor in Geelong said he would never walk straight again. Husband and wife sat and discussed the news wondering how lameness would affect Purdy's future and what he was doing now, Tilly not having mentioned his whereabouts. She has probably no more idea than we have, said Marnie. I'm afraid not, said Polly with a sigh. Well, I hope he won't come back here, that's all. I considered the seam she was sewing with an absent air. Why, love, don't you like old Dicky Bird? Ask Marnie in no small surprise. Oh, yes, quite well, but— Is it because he still can't make up his mind to take your Tilly, eh? That too, but chiefly because of something he said. And what was that, my dear? Oh, very silly, said Polly and smiled. Out with it, madam, or I shall suspect the young dog of having made advances to my wife. Richard dear! little Polly thought he was in earnest and grew exceedingly confused. Oh, no nothing like that! she assured him and with red cheeks rushed into an explanation. He only said in spite of you being such old friends he felt you didn't really care to have him here on Balorat. After a time you always invented some excuse to get him away. But now that it was out, Polly felt the need of turning down the statement I shouldn't wonder if he was silly enough to think you were envious of him for having so many friends and being liked by all sorts of people. Envious of him? I? Born earth has been putting such ideas into your head, cried Marnie. It was mother thought so, it was while I was still there, stammered Polly, still more fluttered by the fact of him fastening on just these words. Marnie tried to quell his irritation by fidgeting around the room. Surely Polly you might give up calling woman mother now you belong to me. I thank you for the relationship," he said testily, and having with much unnecessary ado knocked the ashes out of his pipe he went on. It's bad enough to say things of that kind but to repeat them, love, is in even poorer taste. Yes, Richard," said Polly meekly. But her amazed iniquity was, not even to one's own husband. She hung her head till the white thread of parting between the dark loops where it was almost perpendicular. She had spoken without thinking in the first place had just blurted out a passing thought. But even when forced to explain she had never dreamt of Richard taking a fence. Rather she'd imagined the two of them, two banded lovingly against one making merry together over Purdy's nonsense. She'd heard her husband laugh away much unkinder remarks than this, and perhaps if she'd stopped there and said no more it might have been all right. By her stupid attempt to gloss things over she'd really managed to hurt him and had made him think her gossipy into the bargain. She went on with her sewing, but when Marnie came back from the brisk walk by means of which she got rid of his annoyance he fancied though Polly was as cheery as ever and had supper laid for him that her eyelids were red. This was why the following evening he promised himself to be discreet. Winter had come in earnest, the night was cold and cold. Before the crackling stove the cat lay stretched at full length while Pompey dozed fitfully his nose between his paws. The red cotton curtains that hung at the little window gave back the lamp-light in a ruddy glow. The clock beat off the seconds evenly except when drowned by the wind which came in bouts hurling itself against the corners of the house. And presently, laying down his book, Polly was too busy now to be read to, Marnie looked off. She was wrinkling her pretty brows over the manufacture of tiny clothes, a rather pale little woman still, none of the initial discomforts of her condition having been spared her. Feeling his eyes on her she looked up and smiled. Did ever anyone see such a ridiculous arm-hole? Three of one's fingers were enough to fill it, and she held the little shirt aloft for his inspection. Here was his chance. The child's coming offered the best of pretexts. Taking not only the midget garment but also the hand that held it, he told her of his resolve to go back to England and re-enter his profession. You know, love, I've always wished to get home again, and now there's an additional reason. I don't want my our children to grow up in a place like this, without companions or refining influences, who knows how they would turn out. He said it, but in his heart he knew that his children would be safe enough, and Polly listening to him made the conversation. Yes, but our children. And so I propose, as soon as the youngster's old enough to travel, to haul down the flag for good and all and book passages for the three of us in some smart clipper. We'll live in the country, love, think of it, Polly, a little gabled red-roofed house at the foot of some Sussex down with fruit trees and a high hedge around it, and only the host houses peeping over. Doesn't it make your mouth water, my dear? He had risen in his eagerness and stood with his back to the stove, his legs apart, and Polly nodded and smiled up at him, though truth to tell the picture he drew didn't mean much to her. She had never been in Sussex, nor did she know what a host house was. A night such as this with flying clouds and a shrill piping wind made her think of angry seas in a dark ship's cabin, in which she lay deathly sick. But it was not Polly's way to dwell on disagreables. Her mind glanced off to a pleasanter theme. Have you ever thought, Richard, how strange it will seem when there are three of us? You and I will never be quite alone together again. Oh, I do hope he'll be a good baby and not cry much. It will worry you, if he does, like Hemphle's cough, and then you won't love him properly. I shall love it because it is yours, my darling, and the baby of such a dear little mother is sure to be good. Oh, babies will be babies, you know, said Polly, with a new air of wisdom which sat delightfully on her. Marnie pinched her cheek. Mrs. Marnie, you're shirking my question. Tell me now, should you not be pleased to get back to England? I'll go wherever you go, Richard, said Polly staunchly, always, and of course I should like to see mother. I mean my real mother again. But then Ned's here, and John, and Sarah. I should be very sorry to leave them. I don't think any of them will ever go home now. They may be here, but they don't trouble you often, my dear, said Marnie, with more than a hint of impatience, especially Ned the well-beloved who lives not a mile from your door. I know he doesn't often come to see us, Richard, but he's only a boy and has to work so hard. You see, it's like this. If Ned should get into any trouble, I'm here to look after him, and I know that makes mother's mind easier. Ned was always her favourite. And an extraordinary thing, too. I believe it's the boy's good looks that blind you women to his faults. Oh, no, indeed it isn't, I've cared, Polly, warmly. It's just because Ned's Ned, the dearest fellow, if you really know him. And so your heart's angered here, little wife, and would remain here even if I carried your body off to England. Oh, no, Richard, said Polly again. My heart would always be where you are, but I can't help wondering how Ned would get on alone, and Jerry will soon be here, too, now, and his youngest still, and how I should like to see dear Tilly settle before I go. Judging that enough had been said for the time being, Marnie re-opened his book, leaving his wife to chew the cud of innocent matchmaking and sisterly cares. In reality, Polly's reflections were of quite another nature. Her husband's abrupt resolve to leave the colony, disturbing though it was, did not take her altogether by surprise. She would have needed to be both deaf and blind not to notice that the store-bell rang much seldomer than it used to, and that Richard had more spare time on his hands. It was dull, and that made him fidgety. Now she had always known that some day it would be her duty to follow Richard to England, but she had imagined that day to be very far off, when they were elderly people and it saved up a good deal of money. To hear the date fixed for six months hence was something of a shock to her. And it was at this point that Polly had a sudden inspiration. As she listened to Richard talking of resuming his profession, the thought flashed through her mind, in Ballarat, instead of travelling all those thousands of miles to do it. This was what she ruminated while she tucked and hemmed. She could imagine, of course, what his answer would be. He would say there were too many doctors on Ballarat already, not more than a dozen of them made satisfactory incomes. But this argument did not convince Polly. Richard wasn't perhaps a great success at store-keeping, but that was only because he was too good for it. As a doctor he, with his cleverness she was certain, stand head and shoulders above the rest, and then there would be money galore. It was true he did not care for Ballarat, was down on both place and people. But this objection too Polly waved. It passed belief that anybody could really dislike this big, rich, bustling, go-ahead township where such handsome buildings were springing up and everyone was so friendly. In her heart she ascribed her husband's want of love for it if he mixed with his equals again and got rid of the feeling that he was looked down on it would make all the difference in the world to him. He would then be out of reach of snubs and slights and people would understand him better, not the residents on Ballarat alone, but also John and Sarah and the beamishes, none of whom really appreciated Richard. In her mind's eye Polly had a vision of him going his rounds, mounted on a chestnut horse, off with the big wigs of society, the gentleman at the camp, the police magistrate and Archdeacon Long, the rich squatters who lived at the foot of Mount Bunanyong. It brought the colour to her cheeks merely to think of it. She did not, however, breathe a word of this to Richard. She was a shade wiser than the night before when she had vexed him by blurting out her thoughts and the present was not the right time to speak. In these days Richard was under the impression that she needed to make a judgment or were still pretend to agree, and Polly didn't want that. She wished fairly to persuade him that by setting up here on the diggings where he was known and respected he would get on quicker and make more money than if he buried himself in some pokey English village where no one had ever heard of him. Meanwhile the unconscious centre of her ambitions wore a perplexed frown. Manny was much exercised just now over the question of medical treatment with a member of the fraternity was distasteful to him. None of them had an inkling who or what he was, and though peaked by their unsuspectingness he at the same time feared lest it should not be absolute and he had the ill-lut to hit on a practitioner who had heard of his stray spurts of doctoring and written him down a charlatan and a quack. For this reason he would call on no one in the immediate neighbourhood and named Rogers who hailed from Mount Pleasant the rise on the opposite side of the valley and some two miles off. It was true since he did not intend to disclose his own standing the distance would make the fellow's fees mount up, but Rogers was at least properly qualified. Half those claiming the title of physician were impotent imposters who didn't know a diploma from the Ten Commandments. Of the same Alma Mater as the report spoke true a skillful and careful obstetrician. When, however, in response to a note carried by Long Jim, Rogers drew rain in front of the store, Marnie was not greatly impressed by him. He proved to be a stout reddish man some ten years Marnie's senior with a hasty pudding face in an undecided manner. There he sat, his ten-spread fingertips meeting and gently tapping one another across his porch and nodding just so, just so, to all he heard. He had the trick of saying everything twice over. Needs to clinch his own opinion was Marnie's swift diagnosis. Himself he kept in the background, and was he forced to come forward his manner was both stiff and forbidding, so on ten-to-hooks was he lest the other should presume to treat him as anything but the storekeeper he gave himself out to be. A day or so later who but the wife must arrive to visit Polly, a piece that would well have been dispensed with even though Marnie felt it keenly that at this juncture Polly should lack companions of her own sex. But Rogers had married beneath him and the sight of the Percy upstart there were people on the flat who remembered her running barefoot and slattenly, sitting there in satin and feathers lording it over his own little Jenny Wren was more than Marnie could tolerate. The distance was put forward as an excuse for Polly not returning to exile as usual, though for her part she had thought her visit a quite a pleasant kindly woman, but then Polly never knew when she was being patronized. To wipe out any little trace of disappointment her husband suggested that she should write and ask one of the beamish girls to stay with her it would keep her from feeling the days long. But Polly only laughed, long when I have so much sewing to do. No, she did not want company, but now indeed she regretted having sent off that impulsive invitation to Mrs. Beamish for the end of the year. Puzzler she would, she couldn't see how she was going to put mother comfortably up. Meanwhile the rains were changing the familiar aspect of the place. Creeks in summer dry gutters of baked clay were now rich red rivers and the yellow yellow we ran full to the brim keeping those who lived hard by it in a twitter of anxiety. The steep slopes of Black Hill showed thinly green. The roads were plowed troughs of sticky mire. Occasional night frosts whitened the ground bringing cloudless days in their wake. Then down came the rain once more and fell for a week on end. The diggers were washed out of their holes, the flat became an untroversable bog. And now there were floods in earnest, the creeks turned to foaming torrents that swept away trees and the old roots of trees and the dwellers on the river banks had to fly for their bare lives. Over the top of book or newspaper Marnie watched his wife stitch stitch stitch with a zeal that never flagged at the dolly garments. Just as he could read his way so Polly sewed hers through the time of waiting. But whereas she, like a sensible little woman, pinned her thoughts fast to the matter in hand he let his range freely over the future. Of the many good things this had in store for him one in particular wetted his impatience. It took close on a twelve month out here to get hold of a new book. On Ballarat not even a station has existed, nor were there more than a couple of shops in Melbourne itself that could be relied on to carry out your order. You perforce fell behind in the race remained ignorant of what was being said and done in science, letters, religious controversy in the great world overseas. To this day he didn't know whether Agassiz had or had not been appointed to the chair of natural history in particular. By the fresh heresies with regard to the creation of species it spoiled his chances. Did not know whether Hugh Miller had actually gone crazy over the vestiges or even if those arch-competence Simon Simpson had at length sheathed their swords. Now, however, God willing he would before very long be back in the thick of it all in intimate touch with the doings of the most wide awake city in Europe and new books and pamphlets would come into his address. And then one morning it was spring now and piping hot at noon Long Jim brought home from the post office a letter for Polly addressed in her sister Sarah's sloping hand knowing the pleasure it would give and married it at once to his wife and Polly laid aside Broom and Duster and sat down to read. But he was hardly out of the room when a startled cry drew him back to her side. Polly had hidden her face and was shaken by sobs. As he could not get her to speak Marnie picked up the letter from the floor and read it for himself. Sarah wrote like one distracted. Oh, my dear sister, how can I find words to tell you of the truly awful calamity that has befallen my happy brother. Marnie skipped the phrases and learned that owing to a carriage accident Emma Turnham had been prematurely confined and the best medical aid notwithstanding, John spared absolutely no expense, had died two days later. John is like a madman. Directly I heard the shocking news I had once threw up my engagement at serious loss to myself, but that's a matter of small consequence and came to take my place beside him. But all my efforts to bring him to a proper and Christian frame of mind have been fruitless. I am indeed alarmed to be alone with him and I tremble for the children for he is possessed of an insane hatred for the sweet little loves. He has locked himself in his room will see no one nor touch a particle of nourishment. Do, my dearest Polly, come at once on receipt of this and help me in the truly awful task that has been laid upon me and pray forgive me for using paper I have had literally no time to order morning of any kind. So that was Sarah. With a click of the tongue Marnie tossed the letter on the table and made it clear to Polly that under no consideration would he allow her to attempt the journey to town. Her relative seemed dutterly to have forgotten her condition if indeed they'd ever grasped the fact that she was expecting a child. But Polly did not heed him. O poor poor Emma! O poor dear John! Her husband could only soothe her by promising to go to Sarah's assistants himself the following day. They had been entirely in the dark about things, for John Turnham thought proper to erect a jealous wall about his family life. What went on behind it was nobody's business but his own. You felt yourself were meant to feel yourself, the alien and the outsider. And Marnie marvelled once more at the wealth of love and sympathy his little Polly had kept fresh for these two and wasted so few of their thoughts on her. Polly dried her eyes. He packed his carpet bag. He did this with a good deal of bother, pulling open the wrong drawers, tumbling up their contents and generally making havoc of his wife's arrangements. But the sight of his clumsyness acted as a kind of tonic on Polly. She liked to feel that he was dependent on her for his material comfort and well-being. They spoke of John's brief married life. He loved her like a pagan, my dear, said Marnie, and if what your sister's error writes is not exaggerated he is bearing his punishment in a truly pagan way. But you won't say that to him, dear Richard, will you? You'll be very gentle with him, pleaded Polly anxiously. Indeed I shall, little woman, but one can't help thinking these things all the same. You know it is written, Thou shalt have none other gods but me. Yes, I know, but then this was just Emma, and she was so pretty and so good, and Polly cried anew. Marnie rose before dawn to catch the coach. Together with a packet of sandwiches Polly brought him a small black mantel. For Sarah, with my dear love, you see Richard, I know she always wears coloured dresses and she will feel so much happier if she has something black to put on. Little Polly's voice was deep with persuasion. Richard was none too well pleased she could see it having to unlock Richard too that after the letter of the day before his opinion of Sarah had gone down to zero. Marnie secured a corner seat, and so though his knees interlocked with those of his vis-à-vis, only one of the eight inside passengers was jammed against him. The coach started and the long dull hours of the journey began to wear away. Nothing broke the monotony, but speculations whether the driver, a noted tipler, would be drunk before Melbourne was reached and capsized them, and the face of a Yankee prospector who told lying tales about his exploits in California in forty-eight until having talked his hearers to sleep he dropped off himself. Then Marnie felt a reflecting on what lay before him. He didn't like the job. He was not one of your born good Samaritans. He relished intruding as little as being intruded on. Besides morally to sustain, to forbear with a fellow creature in misfortune seemed to him as difficult and as a task as any required of one. Infinite tact was essential and a skin thick enough to stand snubs and rebuffs. But here he smiled, or my little wife's inability to recognize them. House and garden had lost their air of well-groomed smartness. The gate stood ajar, the gravel was unraked, the veranda flooring black with footmarks. With all the blinds still down the windows looked like so many dead eyes. Marnie's first knock brought no response. At his second the door was opened by Sarah Turnham herself. But a very different Sarah this from the elegant and sprightly young person who had graced his wedding. Her chignon was loose, her dress dishevelled. On recognizing Marnie she uttered a cry and fell on his neck. He had to disengage her arms by force and speak severely to her, declaring that he would go away again if she carried out her intention of swooning. At last he got around so far that there was a tale which he did with a hysterical overstatement. She had, it seemed, arrived there just before her sister-in-law died. John was quarrelling furiously with all three doctors and before the end insulted the only one who was left in such a fashion that he too marched out of the house. They had to get the dead woman measured, coffined and taken away by stealth, whereupon John had locked himself up in his room and had not been seen since. Through the closed door he had threatened to shoot both her and the children. The servants had deserted, panic stricken at their master's behavior at the sudden collapse of the well-regulated household. The last a nurse-girl sent out on an errand some hours previously had not returned. Sarah was at her wit's end to know what to do with the children. He might hear them screaming at this moment. Marnie, in no hesitancy now how to deal with the situation, laid his hat aside in his gloves. Prepare some food, he said briefly, a glass of port and a sandwich or two if you can manage nothing else, but meat of some kind. But there was not a morsel of meat in the house. Then go to the butchers and buy some. Sarah gasped and bridled. She had never in her life been inside a butcher's shop. Good God-woman, and the sooner you make the beginning the better, cried Marnie, and as he strode now control yourself, madam, and if you have not got what I want in a quarter of an hour's time, I'll walk out of the house and leave you to your own devices. At which Sarah, cowed and shaken, began tremblingly to tie her bonnet strings. Marnie knocked three times at the door of John Turnham's room, each time more loudly. Then he took to battering with his fist on the panels and cried, it is I, John, your brother-in-law, have the goodness there was still an instant of suspense, then heavy footsteps crossed the floor and the door swung back. Marnie's eyes met a haggard white face set in a dusky background. You, said Don in a slow dazed way and blinked at the light, but in the next breath he burst out, where's that damned fool of a woman? Is she skulking behind you? I won't see her, won't have her near me. If you mean your sister Sarah, she's not in the house at present, said Marnie, and stepping over the two men faced each other in the twilight. What do you want? demanded John in a hoarse voice. Have you, too, come to preach and sermonize? If so, you can go back where you came from. I'll have none of that cant here. No, no, I leave that to those whose business it is. I'm here as your doctor. And Marnie drew up a blind and opened a window. Instantly the level sun rays flooded the room and the air that came in with them smacked of the sea. Inside the window a quince tree in full blossom reared extravagant masses of pink snow against the blue overhead, beyond it a covered walk of vines shone golden-green. There was not a cloud in the sky. To turn back to the musty room from all this lush and lovely life was like stepping down into a vault. John had sunk into a seat before a secretare and shielded his eyes from the sun. A burnt-out candle stood at his elbow and in a line before him his eyes remained to him of his dead. A dozen or more daguerreotypes of various sizes, Emma and he before marriage and after marriage, Emma with her first babe at different stages of its growth, Emma with the two children, Emma in ball attire, with a hat on, holding a book. The sight gave the quietes to Marnie's scruples, stooping he laid his hand on John's shoulder. My poor fellow, he said gently, your sister was not in a fit state so I have come in her place to tell you how deeply, how truly we feel for you in your loss. I want to try, too, to help you to bear it, for it has to be borne, John. At this the torrent burst. Leaping to his feet, John began to fling wildly to and fro, and then for a time the noise of his lamentations filled the room. Marnie had assisted at scenes of this kind before, but never had he heard the like of the blasphemies that poured over John's lips. Afterwards, when he'd recovered his distance, he'd refer to it as the occasion in which John took the almighty to task for having dared to interfere in his private life. At the moment he sat silent. Better for him to get it out, he thought to himself, even while he winced at John's scurrility. When, through sheer exhaustion, John came to a stop, Marnie cast about for words of consolation. All reference to the mystery of God's way was precluded, and he shrank from entering that sound for the working of time, which drives a spike into the heart of the new-made mourner. He befought himself of the children. Remember, she didn't leave you comfortless, you have your little ones. Think of them. But this was a false move. Like a belated thunderclap after the storm is over, John broke out again his haggard eyes aflame. Curse the children, he cried thickly. Curse them, I say, if I'd once caught sight of them I should have rung their necks. I never wanted children. They came between us. They took her from me. It was a child that killed her. Now she is gone and there left. Keep them out of my way, Marnie. Don't let them near me. Oh, Emma, wife!" And here his shoulders heaved and a dry, harsh sobs. Marnie felt his own eyes grow moist. Listen to me, John. I promise you, you shall not see your children again until you wish to, till you're glad to recall them as a living gift from her you've lost. I'll look after them for you. You will? God bless you, Marnie. Judging the moment ripe Marnie rose and went out to fetch the tray on which Sarah had set the eatables. The meat was but a chop charred on one side, raw on the other, but John didn't notice its shortcomings. He fell on it like the starving man he was and gulped down two or three glasses of port. The colour returned to his face. He was able to give an account of his wife's last hours and talk as what he needs even if he goes on till morning. Marnie was quick to see that there were things that rankled in John's memory like festers in flesh. One was that, knowing that the greys were tricky, he had not forbidden them to Emma long ago. But he had felt proud of her skill in handling the reins of the attention she attracted. Far from thwarting her, he'd actually urged her on. Her fall had been a light one and her bad results were anticipated. A slight hemorrhage was soon got under control. A week later, however, it began anew more violently and then all remedies were in vain. As it became clear that the child was dead, the doctors had recourse to serious measures but the bleeding went on. She complained of her roaring in her ears. Her extremities grew cold. Her pulse fluttered to nothing. She passed from syncope to coma and from coma to death. John swore that two of the doctors had been the worse for drink. The third was one of those ignorant imposters with whom the place swarmed and again he made himself for approaches. I ought to have gone to look for someone else but she was dying. I could not tear myself away. Marnie, I can still see her. They had stretched her across the bed so that her head hung over the side. Her hair swept the floor. One scoundrel trod on it. Trod on her hair. They had to stand by and watch while they butchered her, butchered my girl. Oh, there are things, Marnie. One cannot dwell on and live. You must not look at it like that. Yet when I recall some of the cases I've seen contraction induced in, ah, yes, if you had been here, my God, if only you had been here. But Marnie did not encourage this idea. It was his duty to unhitch John's thoughts from the past. He now suggested that the children and Sarah safe in his keeping John should shut up house and go away. To his surprise John jumped at the proposal, was ready there and then to put it into effect. Yes, said he, he'd start the very next morning and with no more than a blanket on his back would wander a hundred odd miles into the bush sleeping out under the stars at night and day by day increasing the distance between himself and the scene of his loss. And now up he sprang in a sudden fury to be gone. Warning Sarah to the background, Marnie helped him get together a few necessaries and then walked him to a hotel. Here he left him sleeping under the influence of a drug and next day saw him off on his tramp northwards over the Great Divide. John's farewell words were take the keys of the house with you and don't give them to me under a month at least. That day's coach was full, they had to wait for seats until the evening afternoon. The delay was not unwelcome to Marnie, it gave Polly time to get the letter he had written her the night before. After leaving John he set about raising money for the extra fares and other unforeseen expenses. At the eleventh hour Sarah informed him that their young brother Jerry had landed in Melbourne during Emma's illness and had been hastily boarded out. Knowing no one else in the city Marnie was forced much as it went against the grain to turn to Henry and he was effusively received. Ock Ock tried to press double the sum needed on him. Fortune was no doubt smiling on the lawyer. His officers had swelled to four rooms with appropriate clerks in each. He still, however, nursed the scheme of transferring his business to Ballarat. As soon that is as I can hear of suitable premises I understand there's only one locality to be considered and that's the western township. On which Marnie, whose address was in the outer darkness, repeated his thanks and withdrew. He found Jerry's lodging, paid the bill and took the boy back to St Kilda, a shy slip of a lad in his early teens with the colouring and complexion that ran in the family. John's coachman, who had shown himself not indisposed, for a substantial sum paid in advance, to keep watch over house and grounds was installed in an outbuilding and next day at noon after personally aiding Sarah, who was all at tremble at the prospect of the bush journey of her own and the children's clothes, Marnie turned the key in the door at the darkened house. But a couple of weeks ago it had been a proud and happy home. Now it had no more virtue left in it than a crab's empty shell. He had fumed on first learning of Jerry's superfluous presence, but before there had gone far he saw that he would have fared ill indeed had Jerry not been there. Sarah, too agitated that morning to touch a bite of food, but she had no interest in fainting. There she sat, her eyes closed, her salts to her nose or feebly sipping brandy, unable to lift a finger to help with the children. The younger of the two slept most of the way hotly and heavily on Marnie's knee, but the boy, a regular pest, was never for a moment still. In vain did his youthful uncle pinch his leg each time he wriggled to the floor. It was not until a fierce-looking digger opposite took out a jackknife and threatened to soar off both his feet and heard again to cut out his tongue if he put another question that scarlet with fear little Johnny was tamed. All together it was a nightmare of a journey and Marnie groaned with relief when lamps having for some time twinkled past the coach drew up and Hempel and Long Jim stepped forward with their lanterns. Sarah could hardly stand. The children, wrothful at being wakened from their sleep, kicked and screamed. End of Part 2, Chapter 5 Part 2, Chapter 6 of Australia Felix this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Australia Felix by Henry Handel Richardson Part 2, Chapter 6 For the first time in her young married life Polly felt vexed with her husband oh he shouldn't have done that no really he shouldn't she murmured and the hand with the letter in it drooped to her lap she had been doing a little surreptitious baking in Richard's absence after doubt was hot and tired the tears rose to her eyes deserting her pastry board she retreated behind the wood-stack and sat down on the chopping-block and then for some minutes the sky was blotted out she felt quite unequal in her present condition to facing Sarah who was so sensitive so easily shocked and she was deeply averse from her fine lady sister discovering the straightness of Richard's means and home for a moment's privacy and so this is where you're eyed in his it said Long Jim snappishly he had been opening a keg of treacle and held a sticky plug in his hand and me running my poor old legs off after you and Hempel met her on her entry with no further bad news I open trust ma'am Hempel always retained his smooth civility of manner the shopman par excellence my dear Richard was used to say of him Polly reassured her attendance blew her nose re-read her letter and other feelings came up a most she noticed how scribbly the writing was Richard had evidently been hard-pushed for time there was an apologetic tone about it too which was unlike him he was probably wondering what she would say he might even be making himself reproaches it was unkind of her to add to them let her think rather of the sad state poor John had been found in and of his two motherless babes for Sarah it would have never done to leave her out wiping her eyes Polly untied her cooking apron and set to reviewing her resources Sarah would have to share her bed Richard to sleep on the sofa the children and here she knitted her brows then going into the yard she called to Tom Ockock who sat whittling a stick in front of his father's house and Tom went down to Main Street for her and bought a mattress which he carried home on his shoulder this she spread on the bedroom floor Mrs. Hamurda having already given both rooms a sound scouring just in case a flea or a spider should be lying per due after which Polly fell to baking again in good earnest for the travellers would be famished by the time they arrived towards ten o'clock Tom, who was on the lookout shouted that the coach was in and Polly, her table spread a good fire going stepped to the door outwardly very brave, inwardly all aflutter directly however she got sight of the fawn party that toiled up the slope Sarah clinging to Hemble's arm Marnie bearing one heavy child and could she believe her eyes Jerry staggering under the other her bashfulness was gone she ran forward to prop poor Sarah on her free side to guide her feet to the door and it is doubtful whether little Polly had ever spent a more satisfying hour than that which followed her husband watching her in silent amaze believed she thoroughly enjoyed the fuss and commotion there was Sarah too sick to see anything but the bed to undress to make fomentations for to coax to mouthfuls of tea and toast there was Jerry to feed and send off with the warmest of hugs to share Tom Ock Ock's palias there were the children well Polly's first plan had been to put them straight to bed but when she came to peel off their little trousers she changed her mind I think Mrs. Hermeter if you'll get me a tub of hot water we'll just pop them into it they'll sleep so much better, she said not quite truthfully her private reflection was I don't think Sarah can once have watched them properly all that time the little girl let herself be bathed in her sleep but young John stood and bawled digging fat fists into slits of eyes while Polly scrubbed at his massy knees the dimpled ups and downs of which looked as if they had been worked in by hand she had never seen her brother's children before and was as heartily lost in admiration of their plump well-formed bodies as her helper of the costliness of their outfit real-engine muslin as I'm alive ejaculated the woman on fishing out their night-clothes and with the sassiest lace for trimming Ock the poor little motherless angels stand quiet you young devil you and let me button you up clean as lily-bells the pair were laid on the mattress bed at least they can't fall out said Polly surveying her work with a sigh of content everyone else having retired she sat with Richard before the fire waiting for his bathwater to reach the boil he was anxious to know just how she'd fed in his absence she to hear the full story of his mission he confessed to her that his offer to load himself up with the whole party had been made in a momentary burst of feeling afterwards he had repented his impulsiveness in your account love though when I see how well you've managed you dear clever little woman and Polly consoled him being now come honestly to the stage of but Richard what else could you do what indeed I knew Emma had no relatives in Melbourne and who John's sentiments might be I had no more idea than the man in the moon John hasn't any friends he never had as for leaving the children in Sarah's charge if you'll allow me to say so my dear I consider your sister Sarah the biggest goose of a female it has ever been my lot to run across ah but you don't really know Sarah yet said Polly and smiled a little through the tears that had risen to her eyes at the tail of John's despair what Marnie did not mention to her was the necessity he had been under of borrowing money though Polly was well aware he had left home with but a modest sum in his purse he wished to spare her feelings Polly had a curious delicacy he might almost call it a manly delicacy with regard to money and the fact that John had not offered to put hand to pocket let alone liberally flung a blank check at his head would Marnie knew touch his wife on a tender spot nor did Polly herself ask questions Richard made no illusion to John having volunteered to bear expenses so the latter had evidently not done so what a pity Richard was so particular himself in matters of this kind that he might write her brother down close and stingy of course John's distressed state of mind partly served to excuse him but she could not imagine the calamity that would cause Richard to forget his obligations she slid her hand into her husbands and they sat for a while in silence then half to herself and out of a very different train of thought she said just fancy them never crying once for their mother talking of friends said Sarah and vestidiously cleared her throat talking of friends I wonder now what has become of one of those young gentlemen I met at your wedding he was let me see why I declare if I haven't forgotten his name oh I know who you mean besides there was only one Sarah Marnie heard his wife reply and therewith fall into her sister's trap you mean Purdy, Purdy Smith, who is Richard's best man Smith echoed Sarah, la Polly, why doesn't he make it smithe? it was a warm evening some three weeks later the store was closed to customers but Marnie had ensconced himself in a corner of it with a book since the invasion this was the one place in which he could make sure of finding quiet the sisters sat on the log bench before the house and without seeing them Marnie knew to a nicety how they were employed Polly donned stockings for John's children Sarah was tatting with her little finger stuck out at right angles to the rest Marnie could hardly think of this finger without irritation it seemed to sum up Sarah's whole outlook on life meanwhile Polly's fresh voice went on relating Purdy's fortunes he took part you know in the dreadful affair on the Eureka last Christmas when so many poor men were killed we can speak of it now they've all been pardoned but then we had to be very careful well he was shot in the ankle and will always be lame from it what co-hobbling on one leg for the remainder of his days oh my dear said Sarah and laughed yes because the wound wasn't properly attended to he had to hide about in the bush forever so long later on he went to the beamishes to be nursed but by that time his poor leg was in a very bad state you know he's engaged or very nearly so to till beamish what said Sarah once more that handsome young fellow engaged to one of those vulgar creatures oh Sarah not really vulgar it isn't their fault they didn't have a better education they lived right up country where there were no schools till he never saw a town till she was sixteen but she can sit any horse yes we hope very much Purdy will soon settle down and marry her though he left the hotel again without proposing and Polly sighed there he shows his good taste my dear oh I'm sure his fond of tilly it's only that his life is so unsettled he's been a barman at Uroa since then and the last we heard of him he was shearing somewhere on the golben he doesn't seem able to stick to anything and a rolling stone gathers no moss gave back Sarah sententiously and in fact Marnie saw the cut and dried knot with which she accompanied the words here Hemple passed to the store clad in his Sunday best his hair plastered flat with bears grease going out for a stroll asked his master that was my intention sir I don't think you'll find I've left any of my duties undone oh go by all means said Marnie curtly netled at having his harmless query misconstrued it pointed a suspicion he had had of late that a change was coming over Hemple the model employee was a shade less prompt than here to four to fly at his word and once or twice seemed actually to be studying his own convenience without knowing what the matter was Marnie felt it politic not to be over exacting even mildly to conciliate his assistant it would put him in an awkward fix now that he was on the verge of winding up affairs should Hemple take it into his head to leave him in the lurch the lean figure moved on and blocked the doorway now there was a sudden babble of cheapy voices and simultaneously Sarah cried where have you been my little cherubs come to your aunt and let her kiss you but the children who had frankly no great liking for aunt Sarah would Marnie knew turn a deaf ear to this display of opportunism and make a rush for his wife laying down his book he ran out Polly cautious it's all right Richard I'm being careful Polly had let her mending fall and with each hand held a flaxen-haired child at arm's length John he dirty boy what have you been up to he played he was a digger and sat down in a pool I couldn't get him to budge on Sir Jerry and drew his sleeve over his perspiring forehead oh five for shame don't care said John unabashed don't care echoed his roly-poly sister who existed but as his shadow don't care was made to care don't care was hung quoted aunt Sarah in her severest copybook tones turning his head in his aunt's direction young John thrust forth a bright pink tongue little Emma was not behind hand Polly jumped up dropping her work to the ground Johnny I shall punish you if ever I see you do that again now Ellen shall put you to bed instead of auntie Ellen was Mrs. Hamurder's eldest and Polly's first regular maid servant don't care repeated Johnny Ellen plays pillars and base pillars said the echo seizing two hot pudgy hands Polly dragged the pair indoors though they held back mainly on principle they were not affectionate children they were too strong of will and set of purpose for that but if they had a fondness for anyone it was further on Polly she was ruler overdraw full of sugar sticks and though she scolded she never slept while this was going on Hempel stood the picture of indecision and he's now one foot now the other as if his boots pinched him at length he blurted out I was wondering ma'am Miss Turnham if since it is an agreeable evening you would care to take a walk to that ill I told you off me take a walk la know whatever put such an idea as that into your head cried Sarah and tattered and tattered keeping time with a pretty little foot I thought perhaps said Hempel meekly I didn't make your thoughts Mr. Hempel retorted Sarah laying stress on the aspirate oh no ma'am I hope I didn't presume to suggest such a thing and with a hangdog air Hempel prepared to sling away well well said Sarah double quick and ceasing to jerk a crochet needle in and out she nimbly rolled up her ball of thread since you're so insistent and since mind you there's no society worth calling such on these diggings the truth was Sarah saw that she was about to be left alone with Marnie Jerry had sauntered off to meet Ned and this tater-tater was by no means to her mind she still bore her brother-in-law a grudge for his high-handed treatment of her at the time of John's bereavement as if I had been one of the domestics my dear a paid domestic ordered me off to the butchers in language that fairly shocked me Marnie turned his back and strolled down to the river he didn't know which was more painful to witness Hempel's unmanly cringing or the air of fatuous satisfaction that succeeded it when he returned the pair was just setting out he watched Sarah on Hempel's arm picking short steps in dainty latchet shoes as soon as they were well away he called to Polly the coast's clear come for a stroll Polly emerged tying her bonnet strings why where's Sarah oh I see oh Richard I hope she didn't put on that she did my dear said Marnie grimly and tucked his wife's hand under his arm oh how I wish she wouldn't said Polly in a tone of concern she does get so stared at especially of an evening when there are so many rude men about but I really don't think she minds for she has a bonnet in her box all the time Miss Sarah was giving Ballarat food for talk by appearing on her promenades in a hat a large flat mushroom hat I trust my little woman will never put such a ridiculous object on her head no never at least not unless they become quite the fashion answered Polly and I don't think they will they look too odd another thing love continued Marnie on whom a sudden light had dawned as he stood listening to Sarah's Trumpery I fear your sister is trifling with the feelings of our worthy Hempel Polly who had kept her own counsel on this matter went crimson oh do you really think so Richard she asked evasively I hope not for of course nothing could come of it Sarah has refused the most eligible offers ah but there are none here to refuse and if you don't mind my saying so poll anything in trousers seems fish to her net on one of their pacing they found Mr. Ock Ock come out to smoke an evening pipe the old man had just returned from a flying visit to Melbourne he looked glum and careworn but livened up at the site of Polly and cracked one of the moldy jokes he believed beneficial to a young woman in her condition still the leading note in his mood was melancholy and this although his dearest wish was on the point of being fulfilled yes I've got the very crib for Henry at last dock Billy Diller pours livery stable top of Ledyard Street we sold poor Billy up yesterday the third smash in two days that makes Lord I don't know until end things are going a bit quick over there there's been too much building there at me to build to Henry is but I says no this place is good enough for me if he's going to be ashamed of how his father lives he'd better stop away I'm an old man now and a poor one what should I want with a fine new house and who should I build it for even if I had the tin for them too good for nothing's in there not if I know it Mr. Ock Ock you wouldn't believe how kind and clever Tom's been at helping me with the children said Polly warmly yes and had bottlewashing and sweeping and cook and a pasty but a female a do it just as well return Tom's father with a snort of contempt poor old chap said Marnie as they passed out of air shot so even the great Henry's arrival is not to be without its drop of gall surely he'll never be ashamed of his father who knows but it's plain he suspects the old boy has made his pile and intends him to fork out said Marnie carelessly and with this dismissed the subject now that his own days in the colony were numbered he no longer felt constrained to pump up a spurious interest in local affairs he consigned them wholesale to that limbo in which for him they had always belonged the two brothers came striding over the slope Ned clad in blue-shirt shirt and corduroy's laid an affectionate arm around Polly's shoulder and tossed his hat into the air on hearing that the salamander as he called Sarah was not at home for a tons to tell you poll old girl and when my lady sits there turning up and knows that everything a chap says somehow the spunk goes out of one Polly had baked a large cake for her darling and served out generous slices then drawing up a chair she sat down beside him to drink in his news from his place at the father end of the table Marnie studied the trio these three young faces which were so much alike that they might have been different readings of one in the same face Polly by reason of her woman's lot looked considerably the oldest still the lamp light wiped out some of the shadows and she was never more girlishly vivacious than with Ned entering as she did with zest into his plans and ideas or sister now than wife and Ned showed at his best with Polly he laid himself out to divert her forgot to brag or to swear and so natural did it seem for brother to open his heart to sister that even his egoistic chatter past muster as for young Jerry who in a couple of days was to begin work in the same claim as Ned he sat round eyes his thoughts writ large on his forehead Marnie translated them thus how in the world could I ever have sat prim and proper on the school bench when all this change adventure romance was awaiting me Jerry was only Marnie knew to push a wheelbarrow from hole to water and back again for many a week to come but for him it would certainly be a golden barrow and laden with gold so greatly had Ned's tales fired his imagination the onlooker felt odd man out to barred as he was by his profounder experience from sharing in the young people's light legged dreams he took up his book but his reading was cut into by Ned's sprightly account of the magpie rush by his description of an engine at work on the Eureka and of the wooden air pipes that were being used to ventilate deep sinkings there was nothing Ned did not know and could not make entertaining one was forced almost against one's will to listen to him and on this particular evening when he was neither sponging nor acting the big gun Marnie toned down his first sweeping judgment of his young relative Ned was all talk and what impressed one so unfavorably his grumbling his extravagant boastfulness was the mere thistle down of the moment puffed off into space it mattered little that he harped continually on chucking up his job two years had passed since he came to Ballarat and he was still working for hire and somebody else's hole he still groaned over the hardships of the life and still toiled on and all the rest was just the frothing braggado show of aimless youth End of Part 2 Chapter 6