BLUE GUMS.
"Why wasn't I born a boy, Hil? I never felt so comfortable before in my
life as when I wore trousers, and now we have to return to these
abominable petticoats."
"You don't regret your sex half so much as I do, for I have been
regretting it ever since I was a child," answered Hil, giving her skirts
a vicious twitch.
"Shall we go to Teasdale's this afternoon?"
"No, don't. I hate garden-parties."
"It's to be a very fashionable affair, and the Government House party
will be there."
"That settles the matter then. We stay away," said Hil, decisively.
When the girls returned to Sydney they found Goody still at the
"Grosvenor," seemingly quite happy. At first he had been feeble and
despondent, but he knew a large number of people, whose visits kept him
from brooding and, on his daughter's return, she found him quite a
Society man in his old-fashioned way. Hil asked him to come out to Blue
Gums, but he preferred the hotel, so both she and May left him there,
perfectly content. Hil found an accumulation of letters and invitations
waiting her arrival. Callers were numerous, who made curious enquiries
about their long absence, but their curiosity was unsatisfied, and it
was generally assumed that Hil had been on a visit to one of her
stations.
"Two gentlemen are below, and wish to see you, miss," said the maid,
entering the room when the girls were engaged in bemoaning their lot.
"Did they give their names?"
"No. I asked, but they said it did not matter."
"Shew them up." Then, turning to May, she said, "I don't mind betting
they're the boys."
"Good-morning, Miss Goodchild," said both Hal and Reg, advancing to May.
"Good-morning, gentlemen. This is my cousin."
"Delighted to meet you," said Hil, shaking hands cordially.
"We called at the 'Grosvenor' this morning, and Mr. Goodchild told us we
should find you here, so we took the liberty of coming over," said Hal.
"No liberty, I assure you. A pleasure."
"On both sides, I hope," said Reg.
"We have only recently returned from Brisbane, and Mr. Goodchild told us
you, too, had been out of town."
"Yes, we went for a trip. I hope you weren't inconvenienced by the
floods."
"We were; very much. The mere mention of them makes me look round,
expecting to see a tribe of ants, or two or three snakes on the floor."
"Do tell us about your adventures," said May.
"When we left Brisbane we went on to Toowoomba and got on Wyck's tracks
and chased him out West as far as Dalby. From there we set off in a
buggy for Chinchilla, and we caught up his buggy, but found it had
broken down, and that there was no trace of Wyck. We suppose he lost his
way and was drowned in the creek, where his body was found."
"How did you manage in the bush? Did you have to camp out?" asked Hil,
with an appearance of great interest, and gently touching May's foot.
"Oh, of course, and it was great fun," and they both laughed.
"Do tell us about it. I am so fond of hearing tales of the bush," said
May.
"Well, when we reached the creek, we found an old fellow, named Brown,
in charge of the buggy, and from him we learnt that his boss, as he
called Wyck, had gone on to Chinchilla on foot, so we started after him,
but, losing our way, had to return to the creek. Now, it struck us that
Wyck might possibly return to his buggy during the night, so we camped
about half-a-mile away, and, leaving a man in charge of our trap, we
dressed up as swagmen and joined the party at the crossing, which had
now been increased by the arrival of two new chums and a hawker's van."
"Tell them about the ants, Hal," said Reg.
"Oh, yes. Joe and the hawker had a dispute as to who should have a seat
on the log used for the fire, but Joe had possession and determined to
stick to it, which he did until a swarm of green-heads climbed up his
back, and then he jumped up with a yell and flung off his clothes. Joe
frightened the new chums, for they cleared off to their tent."
"What kind of fellows were these new chums?" asked Hil.
"Oh, nothing out of the common. Very ladylike in appearance and
namby-pamby looking. I felt really sorry for them, but they ought never
to have left their ma's apron-strings."
"Yes, I fancy this flood will send them back," said Reg, laughing.
"How very interesting: but you have been spreading the story about
well," remarked Hil.
"Why, what do you mean? I have never spoken to a soul about it. Have
you, Reg?"
"Well, I heard the same tale, yesterday, about old Brown and the ants,"
said Hil.
"You did?"
"Yes, and I fancy I can recognise you two in the story I heard, since
you say you came as tramps."
"I don't understand," said Hal, looking at her in astonishment.
"I'll tell it you as it was told to me, then. It appears Joe Brown
recognised in the two tramps the two men who had driven by in a buggy
and he passed it round the camp, and while you two were acting as tramps
everyone was laughing at you."
"Miss Mannahill, where did you hear that?" called out Hal,
thunderstruck.
"That's not all," continued Hil, imperturbably. "We heard about you in
Brisbane, and how you were good enough to discuss May and myself in a
public saloon."
Hal looked at Reg in astonishment, and unable to say a word.
"Can you deny saying that, from all accounts, that cousin of May
Goodchild's was a bit of a star?" asked Hil.
"And that I was a jolly girl?" struck in May, both of them now laughing
heartily at the nonplussed appearance of the two men.
"Excuse me, I--" said Hal, with an uncanny feeling that there was
witchcraft somewhere.
"No, we won't. We want an apology."
"For what?" said Reg, seriously.
"For speaking ill of absent friends."
"Did we speak ill?"
"Yes, of those two new chums, who were--"
"Not yourselves."
"Certainly," said Hil, smiling. "And I am glad we seemed ladylike and I
hope you'll do us the justice to say we have got back to our ma's--or
the equivalent."
"You two ladies were the new chums!" said Reg, not quite sure if he
heard aright.
"Yes. How did we look?"
"Splendid."
"Oh, you traitors, but we'll forgive you," said Hil, ringing for
refreshments.
The girls then told their adventures and were equally amused to find
they had all been at cross-purposes the whole time. It took the boys
some considerable time to get over their astonishment.
"We went for a man, and returned with a horse," said Hil.
"And we went for a man, and returned with a stick," added Hal.
"Which stick? Not the famous one with all the notches cut on it?" asked
May.
"The very same. There are several fresh notches added, and one of them
may refer to you."
"Oh, let us see it. Where is it?" said Hil, excitedly.
"I have it safe under lock and key," answered Reg.
"You can scratch out my notch," said May, "for though I had a narrow
squeak, my heart is not quite broken, thanks to you two."
"For one thing, I am glad it occurred," answered Hal. "It has given us
the pleasure of making your acquaintance."
"New chums, eh?"
"Now, that's not fair. But did that old fellow really recognise us?"
"No, I don't know that he did. Certainly we did not. I only said so
because you were rather hard on us," answered Hil.
"What are you gentlemen going to do now?" asked May.
"We are going to have a holiday. I have done my duty, and my dear old
friend here has sacrificed all his time for me. We propose staying in
Sydney for a short while, and then taking another trip to Tasmania, as
the people there were so nice," answered Reg.
"All Tasmanians are nice," put in May.
"Don't fish, May," said Hil, chaffingly.
"Present company always excepted," said May, unwarily.
"Oh, that's worse than ever," retorted Hil, and all joined in the
laughter which followed.
"Now, if you gentlemen are doing nothing to-day, we shall be very glad
of your company on our drive," said Hil.
"We shall be delighted," said both together.
"Then that's settled. Now let us go to lunch. Quite impromptu, you know,
billy and pannikins," she added, with a light laugh, as she led the way.
And a happy quartette they made, these four young people, sensible to
the full of the enjoyments of life. Joke and anecdote were interchanged
with good-humoured _camaraderie_ and, if Mrs. Grundy was not present,
she ought to have been, only in the capacity of spectator, that she
might but learn how possible it is for youth of both sexes to meet
together in wholesome social enjoyment without the watchful eye of a
chaperon. After luncheon, the boys were invited to light their cigars,
the girls apologising for not joining in, because they had given up male
vices with male habiliments.
"You must come and see Wyck," said Hilda, taking them to the stables.
"And here is old Tom. I don't know if you remember him at Dalby. I
brought him to look after Wyck, because they seem to understand each
other so well."
"How's Wyck getting on, Tom?" she asked, as the old fellow came forward
and saluted.
"Oh, he's doing well, miss. I've had him entered for the Sydney Cup, and
I doubt there won't be many to beat him," said Tom, proudly, as he led
the way to a loose box in which his favourite was kept.
"Well, Wyck, old boy," said Hil, and the horse, hearing her voice,
turned round and put his head over the rail, and sniffed at her as if in
search of something.
"Here you are," she said, giving him a piece of sugar, and rubbing his
nose.
"We heard about your doings at Dalby; how you took the auctioneer and
the farmer down," said Reg, "but we little guessed who the new chums
were."
After wandering round the extensive stables, Hil called one of the
grooms, and told him to put Fan and Tan in the dog-cart.
"They are a bit skittish, miss," said he, being a new hand.
"All the better," answered she. "Go and put them in."
A handsome dog-cart was wheeled out, and two beautiful dappled grey cobs
harnessed to it, who by their prancing and restless antics looked like
mischief. The wheeler was the more quiet of the two, but the leader
seemed to prefer a more picturesque attitude than that of standing
quietly on four legs, and elevating himself on his hind-legs remained
pawing the air like an heraldic beast. Twice did the groom pull her into
line with the wheeler, but she preferred dancing round and gazing at the
driver.
"I think she has had a fair look at us now," said Hil, quietly taking up
the whip. "Straighten them again, please."
The opening of the gate was not a wide one, and the boys confessed they
felt a trifle nervous in their seats. But they did not know their
driver. With a sharp, "Now then, let go," she gave the leader a couple
of smart smacks with the lash, and he dashed forward and they passed
through the gate at a hand-gallop, and were soon flying along the
beautiful roads round Sydney.
The boys thoroughly enjoyed themselves. What more could heart desire
than to be driven behind a pair of handsome horses, beside a pair of
handsome girls!
"Will you ladies come to the theatre to-night?" asked Reg. "There is a
new star just arrived from London."
"What do you say, May?"
"Delighted."
"Yes, we'll go with pleasure," said Hil, and arriving at the
"Metropole," where the boys had taken up their residence, the cart was
pulled up, and they alighted.
"Shall we call for you?" asked Reg.
"No, we'll call for you at 7.30. Good-bye."
Standing on the pavement, the boys gazed first after the cart
disappearing round the corner, and then at each other. But words failed
them, so they turned on their heel towards the hotel.
"By-the-bye, we had better call on old Goody. He might like to go," said
Reg, and Hal being of the same opinion, they turned back to the
"Grosvenor."
They found Mr. Goodchild in conversation with a young man, whom he
introduced to them as Mr. Philamore.
"We are going to the theatre to-night, Mr. Goodchild, and we came to see
if you would join us."
"Well, Philamore and I had agreed--"
"Oh, both of you join us, won't you?"
Philamore having expressed himself as quite agreeable to the
arrangement, it was settled they should all go to the theatre.