The time arrived, all too soon, when Edgar Foster was to leave Redbank.
Unlike many lads, he was not eager to have done with lessons, and take
his place in the busy world. During his stay at Redbank he had made
many friends, Will Brown being an especial favourite with him. Dr. Hook
was proud of his scholar, for Edgar had done as well at work as at play.
When the holiday time came round, Edgar Foster bade farewell to Redbank
with feelings of regret. As he looked back at the school he was leaving
he thought of the many happy hours he had spent within its walls. He
had gone through trial and struggle, such as every lad must encounter,
but they only made victory taste the sweeter.
‘I shall feel quite lonely next term,’ said Will Brown, who was going
home with Edgar to spend a few days. ‘It’s lucky for some of us Rakes
is leaving, or he would have made it uncomfortably hot. I shall never
forget the thrashing you gave him. It did me good to see you punish
him;’ and Will Brown chuckled with delight at the mere thought.
‘If I never have a harder battle to fight than that,’ said Edgar, ‘I
shall be lucky.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Will Brown.
‘With my father’s permission I shall go to Australia,’ said Edgar. ‘You
know how fond I have always been of reading and learning about our
great colonies. I think it is a splendid thing to start life in a new
country, where you are not bound down by a lot of old-world prejudices.’
‘And what shall you do in Australia?’ asked Will Brown.
‘I hardly know, but you may be sure I shall not remain idle very long.
There ought to be plenty for an active young fellow like me to do out
there.’
‘They are great cricketers, the Australians,’ said Brown. ‘You’re sure
to get into one of the best elevens, and that will help you along.’
‘And give me a chance of a trip home perhaps,’ said Edgar. ‘I should
hardly like playing against England.’
‘I expect you will become such an enthusiastic colonist that you will
be only too eager to assist in lowering the flag of old England on the
cricket-field.’
‘We shall see,’ replied Edgar. ‘Of one thing you may be quite sure: I
shall look upon Australia as my home if I have to earn my living there.’
Robert Foster was heartily glad to welcome his son’s schoolmate at Elm
Lodge. He was a believer in schoolboy friendships when judiciously made.
Elm Lodge was not a large place, but it was old-fashioned and
picturesque, and overlooked the Thames near Twickenham. Robert Foster,
in addition to being a great cricketer, was a skilful oarsman, and
many a Thames waterman had found it a hard task to row with him. He was
also an enthusiastic fisherman, and knew the favourite haunts of the
famous Thames trout, and where many a good jack was to be found. There
was a boathouse at Elm Lodge, and Edgar always anticipated a good time
on the great river.
Doris Foster was a bright, merry girl of seventeen, a perfect picture
of ruddy health, her cheeks untouched by any artificial beautifier.
Nature was her lady’s-maid, and Doris Foster would not have changed
her for the most skilful of tire-women. It was a difficult matter
to keep Doris Foster indoors, no matter how bad the weather might
be. She revelled in sunshine, but she loved the keen, sharp, frosty
air of winter, and the sound of the frozen snow crunching beneath
her tiny feet. She knew the names of the wild-flowers, and was well
acquainted with their haunts, and also their habits. She was not a
clever girl, but she was thoroughly domesticated, a far more desirable
accomplishment. Her father and brother were her best friends, and she
made but few new acquaintances. Doris Foster was a true-born English
girl, not a forced artificial production such as may be encountered
by the score in the Row, or the fashionable thoroughfares of the West
End. She had not learned to talk slang, and to consider it correct to
endeavour to make people think, ‘What a pity she is not a man!’
With the enthusiasm of a schoolboy, Will Brown adored Doris Foster.
There was no maudlin, sentimental love nonsense about his adoration. It
was the pure affection and liking a healthy youth feels for a healthy
girl.
‘Excuse the expression, Edgar,’ he said one day, ‘but your sister is a
brick.’
The schoolboy ‘brick’ is synonymous for everything that is good. When
one lad calls another a ‘brick’ there’s a ring about the word that is
unmistakable. So, when Will Brown called his sister a brick, Edgar
Foster heartily endorsed the sentiment.
‘I’d like to know,’ said Will, ‘if there is anything she cannot do?’
‘Several things,’ said Edgar.
They were sitting in a boat close to the garden hedge, and passing
their time pleasantly enough.
‘Enumerate some of them,’ said Will Brown incredulously.
‘She cannot smoke,’ said Edgar solemnly; ‘nor can she make a speech.
She would be a ghastly failure as a woman politician, or a leader of
fashion. I am afraid she could not write a book, and drag all her
female friends through a moral pillory in it. Oh, there are heaps of
things Doris cannot do!’
‘And a jolly good thing, too!’ said Will Brown. ‘I hate stuck-up
girls--they’re worse than spoony girls. Now, your sister--well, a
fellow can make a chum of her, and all that, don’t you know.’
‘Comprehensive, certainly,’ laughed Edgar. ‘What does “all that, don’t
you know” mean?’
Will Brown waved his hand towards the flowing river, and was at a loss
for an answer.
Splash!
‘What’s that?’ said Will, as he shook the water off his boating-jacket.
‘That is Miss “All that, don’t you know,”’ laughed Edgar.
‘Where is she?’ said Will, jumping up, and narrowly missing overturning
the boat.
‘In safety, on the other side of the hedge,’ said Edgar loudly. ‘She
dare not come nearer, for fear of the consequences.’
Splash!
‘We had better get out of this,’ said Will.
A merry peal of laughter sounded from the other side of the hedge.
‘You lazy boys! I thought I would rouse you. Pull the boat round to the
steps, and take me for a row immediately.’
‘We decline to be ordered about,’ said Edgar. ‘Ask politely, and your
request may be granted.’
‘Will Mr. William Brown and Mr. Edgar Foster, of Redbank School--ahem!
College--have the goodness to row to the steps of Elm Lodge, where they
will find Miss Doris Foster at home?’
‘That’s much better,’ said Edgar. ‘Our compliments to Miss Doris
Foster, and we hasten to comply with her request.’
‘Pull, Edgar, you lazy beggar!’ said Will, ‘for Elm Lodge, home, and
beauty.’
Doris Foster looked charming in her light summer dress and large river
hat, as she stood on the steps leading from the lawn to the water.
‘Your ladyship has showered many favours upon us of late,’ said Will
Brown, as he gave her his hand and she stepped into the boat; ‘in fact,
we are in danger of being overwhelmed with them.’
‘Doris, you ought not to throw stones,’ said Edgar, with an attempt to
be serious.
‘I did not throw stones,’ said Doris.
‘You hear her?’ said Edgar to Will. ‘She did not throw stones! I blush
for my sister.’
‘They were two half-bricks,’ said Doris. ‘Didn’t they splash!’ And she
laughed merrily.
‘There’s prevarication!’ said Edgar. ‘A brick in this instance is to
all intents and purposes a stone.’
‘A brick is a brick,’ said Doris; ‘therefore it cannot be a stone.’
‘A brick is not a brick when it is only half a brick,’ said Edgar.
‘If you don’t stop it,’ said Will Brown, ‘I’ll----Look out!’ he shouted.
There was a bend in the river, and they did not see the small launch
until it was nearly on to them. The swirl she made in the water caused
their boat to dance up and down in the swell.
‘All your fault,’ said Edgar to his sister. ‘But, thank goodness! it
has put an end to your argument.’
They had a pleasant row, and came back glowing with health, and very
hungry. Luncheon proved most acceptable, and was thoroughly enjoyed by
these young people with good appetites and no thoughts of indigestion.
Doris Foster missed Will Brown when he left Elm Lodge, for she had come
to regard him as a sincere friend. She had, however, other things to
occupy her mind now, for Edgar was to sail for Australia in a couple
of months. She dreaded the parting with her brother, not only on her
own account, but because she knew how much her father would miss him.
She was half inclined to be angry with Edgar because he had chosen to
go abroad. At the same time, she admired the spirit of adventure that
tempted him away from a comparatively easy life in England. She knew if
she had been a man she would have followed her brother’s example.
Robert Foster made the most of the time his son was to remain at home.
‘I shall be sorry to part with you,’ he said to Edgar; ‘but you are
young, and I am not old. So I hope, ere many years have gone, we may
meet again. I believe it will do you good to go abroad. One thing you
must bear in mind: come home again if you do not like it.’
Edgar Foster was fond of the sea, and, as his father knew the owner of
one of the principal lines of sailing ships trading to Australia, he
had decided to make the voyage in the _Distant Shore_, a large vessel
holding a quick record.
‘You are quite sure you prefer to go out in a sailing vessel?’ said
Robert Foster. ‘It will be a tedious voyage.’
‘I am sure the time will pass quickly,’ said Edgar. ‘I love the sea.
Those big steamers are too much like hotels, and I cannot bear hotel
life.’
‘Please yourself, my boy. The _Distant Shore_ is a fine vessel, and
Captain Manton a good seaman. He’ll look after you well, I feel sure.’
The weeks rolled all too quickly by, and the time drew near when the
_Distant Shore_ was to sail for Sydney.
Edgar Foster paid a visit to Redbank, and was heartily welcomed by his
old schoolmates, who wished him a prosperous voyage and success in the
new country. Dr. Hook was very kind to him, and gave him some good
advice.
As Edgar shook hands with him, Dr. Hook said:
‘An old friend of mine once gave me what I consider good advice. He
said: “Don’t fret, keep your temper, and mind your own business.” If
you carry out his precepts, I think you will do well.’
Edgar did not feel in very good spirits when his last night at home
arrived. As he looked around the cosy room, he wondered how many years
it would be before he saw it again, and the dear ones he must leave
behind. He said to himself he must work hard and earn a good name, and
then he would come home and be received with open arms.
His father was kinder than ever on this their evening of parting, and
Doris did all in her power to make things bright and cheerful. Edgar
never ceased to remember this particular night, and it came vividly
before him on many occasions when far away.
Robert Foster and his daughter saw Edgar sail in the _Distant Shore_,
and waved him a tearful farewell.
As Edgar stood looking at them he felt lonely, and when they gradually
receded from his sight he heaved a sigh, and felt a choking sensation
in his throat.
When Robert Foster and Doris reached Elm Lodge again he kissed her
fondly, and said in a broken voice:
‘God knows when we shall see him again, Doris. You are all I have left
now; you must not leave your father.’
‘Edgar will return some day,’ she said quietly. ‘I will take his place
until then. When he comes back you will forget all the sorrow of
parting.’