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He was equally stubborn. Sooner than that if it comes to that! Ill sell right out and take every penny I possess to the other side. And never set foot in the colony again.
A musical party at the Timms-Kellys tempted even Mahony forth. On such evenings, in company with other devotees, he would wander up Richmond Hill and through the wooden gates of Vaucluse, where a knot of houses stood sequestered in a grove. The French windows of the Timms-Kellys drawing-room were invariably set wide open; and guests climbing the hill could hear, while still some way off, the great voice peal out like a siren-song that urged and cajoled.
I should think so! Its really most unfortunate, Richard. But whats to be done?
The thought of her coming loneliness appalled her. For over twenty years she had never been absent from Richard for more than a few weeks at a time . . . had never been parted from him by more than a couple of hundred miles. Now, this violent abrupt separation, with all the seas between, made her feel as if she had been roughly torn in two. For months and months to come she would have no one to lean on, no one to consult oh, WHAT if one of the children should fall ill and Richard not be there? She also shrank, with the timidity of unuse, from the prospect of having to emerge from her womanly seclusion and rub shoulders with the world. Her work had invariably been carried on in the background. When it came to a personal contact with business and business people, Richard had always been there, to step forward and bear the brunt. Now she, who had travelled but the briefest of distances unescorted, was called on to undertake by herself, not only the far journey across the Continent, but the infinitely more trying one of a two to three months sea-voyage round the Cape. And until she got on board! To be faced, before that, were railway officials, porters, house-agents, shipping companies, bankers; the drawing of cheques and the paying of bills; the dismissing of servants; the packing and transport of baggage and furniture, the embarking, the long, long voyage with but one nurse for the children, and nobody at all to look after her. But hardest of anything was the knowledge that she would have to remain in her present state of ignorance and uncertainty, knowing nothing of what had actually happened, or of how Richard was bearing up, and whether he was well or ill, until she herself landed in Melbourne more than six months hence.
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Mary had just stooped to the youngest of the children, marvelling at its growth, when her ear caught an oddly familiar sound, an uneven, thumping footfall, and turning quickly, whom in all the world should she see but Purdy, out of breath and red in the face, but otherwise looking just the same as of old, or at least not very different a phrase with which Mary had already covered a marked change in more than one present: Johns singular spareness of rib, Zaras greying front, Agness florid cheeks, the wizened-apple aspect of Amelia Grindle. In Purdys case it cloaked a shining-through of the cranium, did he bare his head; more than a hint of coming stoutness; a cheap and flashy style of dress. First, though, she shot a lightning glance at Richard: how would he take this sudden apparition? The look reassured her: he was to-day uplifted above all ordinary prejudice. There was just an instants hesitation, and then he himself stepped forward, both hands outheld, one to grasp Purdys right, the other to clap on his shoulder; while his: Dickybird, my boy! How are you? . . how are you? came simultaneously with Purdys: Dick, old man, I heard your tub was in. I thought Id just trot along and give you a pawshake. And thus the old bond was cemented anew.
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At Johns, Zara received in the dining-room among horsehair and mahogany, as better befitting the occasion than the gilt and satin of the drawing-room. Lugubriously clad, she spoke with the pious and resigned air of one about to become a mourner. My poor brother, Our great grief, Gods will be done! But of an evening when the rush was over, she carried to Lizzie a list of names and gifts and a sheaf of letters.
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But as he helped her from the carriage he stooped and kissed her . . . which Mary was very much afraid the coachman saw.
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Richards start did not escape her. He retorted, though less surely: But it is at his own urgent request, Mary, that I hold my tongue!
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However, since the one way to deal with Richard was to give him his head, and only by degrees deftly trickle in doubts and scruples, Mary smothered her own feelings for the time being. Perhaps he was right, said she: the place might do for a start; and she was certainly against him going travelling in winter with the objection he had to flannel. Mr. Brocklebanks advisers might, of course, ask a stiff price for the goodwill of the practice; still, if he got on well for two or three years, that would soon be covered. Thus Mary, trusting to a certain blind common sense that DID exist in Richard for all his flightiness, if he was neither badgered nor opposed. (Just the Irish way of getting at a thing backwards! was how he himself described it.) One point though she insisted on; and that was, he should take an outside opinion on the practice before entering into negotiations.
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The words set a string of memories vibrating; and a silence fell. Unlike many of her sex, who would have babbled on, the lady just smiled and waited; and even her waiting was perfect in tact.
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You say hes hard to manage, Mary, she went on. But la! child, what does that matter? Hes kind, generous, straight as a die Im sure Im right in believing hes never done a mean action in his life?
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He signified yes with his lids, sparing himself any superfluous word for fear of rousing up his enemy. Then, in a thick, raucous whisper: I should like . . . to see . . . the boy. Yours.
Ooo! Bekfast, AN dinner, AN tea! Cuffy had to cut a few capers about the room to let off steam, before he could listen to more.
Yes! there was always something. He never let himself have any real peace or enjoyment. Or so thought Mary at the time. It was not till afterwards, when he fell to re-living his travels in memory, that she learned how great was the pleasure he had got out of them. Inconveniences and annoyances were by then sunk below the horizon. Above, remained visions of white cities, and slender towers, and vine-clad hills; of olive groves bedded in violets; fine music heard in opera and oratorio; coffee-drinking in shady gardens on the banks of a lake; orchards of pink almond-blossom massed against the misty blue of far mountain valley.
The Way Home
The person who did not look near was Purdy; and this was an additional source of offence. The least he could have done, said Richard, was to ride out and make up for his offensive behaviour of the night before. Didnt the fellow grasp that he, Mahony, had come to Ballarat solely with the object of doing him a good turn? Privately Mary thought it very unlikely that Purdy, or Tilly either, saw Richards presence in this light. Aloud she observed that he must know it would not be considered proper for the bridegroom to hang about the house, the day before the wedding. But Richard said: propriety be hanged!