THE GLADE.
When the party assembled at breakfast the next morning, Mr. Atherton's
first question was:
"Is there such a thing as a boat or a good-sized canoe to be had, Mr.
Mitford? If you had an elephant here I might manage, but as I suppose
you do not keep such an animal in your stud I own that I should greatly
prefer going by water to running the risk of breaking a horse's back and
my own neck. If such a thing cannot be obtained I will get you, if you
will, to let me have a native as guide, and I will walk, taking with me
some small stock of provisions. I can sleep at this hut of Langston's,
for I say frankly that I should not care about doing the distance there
and back in one day."
"I have a boat," Mr. Mitford said smiling, "and you shall have a couple
of natives to paddle you up. I will give orders for them to be ready
directly after breakfast. You will scarcely be there as soon as we are,
but you will be there long before we leave. Of course we shall spend
some time in going over the ground, and we shall take a boy with us with
a luncheon basket, so you will find refreshment awaiting you when you
get there."
"That will suit me admirably." Mr. Atherton said. "A boating excursion
up an unknown river is just the thing I like--that is, when the boat is
a reasonable size. I was once fool enough on the Amazon to allow myself
to be persuaded that a canoe at most two feet wide would carry me, and
the tortures I suffered during that expedition, wedged in the bottom of
that canoe, and holding on to the sides, I shall never forget. The
rascally Indians made matters worse by occasionally giving sly lurches
to the boat, and being within an ace of capsizing her. I had two days of
that work before I got to a village where I could obtain a craft of
reasonable size, and I should think I must have lost two stone in weight
during the time. You think that that was rather an advantage I can see,
Miss Mitford," he broke off, seeing a smile upon the girl's face. "Well,
yes, I could spare that and more, but I should prefer that it was
abstracted by other means than that of agony of mind; besides, these
improvements are not permanent."
After a hearty breakfast the party prepared for their start. Mrs.
Mitford had already said that she should not accompany them, the
distance being longer than she cared to ride; and four horses were
therefore brought round. Mr. Atherton was first seen fairly on his way
in a good-sized boat, paddled by two powerful Maoris. Mr. Mitford, his
daughters, and Wilfrid then mounted; the lad had already been asked if
he was accustomed to riding.
"Not lately," he replied, "but I used to have a pony and rode a good
deal when I was a small boy, and I daresay I can stick on."
Wilfrid was delighted with his ride through the forest. In his other
trips ashore their way had led through an open country with low scrub
bush, and this was his first experience of a New Zealand forest. Ferns
were growing everywhere. The tree-ferns, coated with scales, rose from
thirty to forty feet in the air. Hymenophylla and polypodia, in
extraordinary variety, covered the trunks of the forest trees with
luxuriant growth. Smaller ferns grew between the branches and twigs, and
a thick growth of ferns of many species extended everywhere over the
ground.
The trees were for the most part pines of different varieties, but
differing so widely in appearance from those Wilfrid had seen in
England, that had not Mr. Mitford assured him that they were really
pines he would never have guessed they belonged to that family. Mr.
Mitford gave him the native names of many of them. The totara matai were
among the largest and most beautiful. The rimu was distinguished by its
hanging leaves and branches, the tanekaha by its parsley-shaped leaves.
Among them towered up the poplar-shaped rewarewa and the hinau, whose
fruit Mr. Mitford said was the favourite food of the parrots.
Among the great forest trees were several belonging to the families of
the myrtles and laurels, especially the rata, whose trunk often measured
forty feet in circumference, and on whose crown were branches of scarlet
blossoms. But it was to the ferns, the orchids, and the innumerable
creepers, which covered the ground with a natural netting, coiled round
every stem, and entwined themselves among the topmost branches, that the
forest owed its peculiar features. Outside the narrow cleared track
along which they were riding it would have been impossible for a man to
make his way unless with the assistance of knife and hatchet, especially
as some of the climbers were completely covered with thorns.
And yet, although so very beautiful, the appearance of the forest was
sombre and melancholy. A great proportion of the plants of New Zealand
bear no flowers, and except high up among some of the tree-tops no gay
blossoms or colour of any kind meet the eye to relieve the monotony of
the verdure. A deep silence reigned. Wilfrid did not see a butterfly
during his ride, or hear the song or even the chirp of a single bird. It
was a wilderness of tangled green, unrelieved by life or colour. Mr.
Mitford could give him the names of only a few of the principal trees;
and seeing the infinite variety of the foliage around him, Wilfrid no
longer wondered Mr. Atherton should have made so long a journey in order
to study the botany of the island, which is unique, for although many of
the trees and shrubs can be found elsewhere, great numbers are entirely
peculiar to the island.
"Are there any snakes?" Wilfrid asked.
"No; you can wander about without fear. There is only one poisonous
creature in New Zealand, and that is found north of the port of
Tauranga, forty or fifty miles from here. They say it exists only there
and round Potaki, near Cook's Strait. It is a small black spider, with a
red stripe on its back. The natives all say that its bite is poisonous.
It will not, they say, cause death to a healthy person, though it will
make him very ill; but there are instances of sickly persons being
killed by it. Anyhow, the natives dread it very much. However, as the
beast is confined to two small localities, you need not trouble about
it. The thorns are the only enemies you have to dread as you make your
way through the forest."
"That is a comfort, anyhow," Wilfrid said; "it would be a great nuisance
to have to be always on the watch against snakes."
The road they were traversing had been cleared of trees from one
settler's holding to another, and they stopped for a few minutes at
three or four of the farmhouses. Some of these showed signs of comfort
and prosperity, while one or two were mere log cabins.
"I suppose the people here have lately arrived?" Wilfrid remarked as
they rode by one of these without stopping.
"They have been here upwards of two years," Mr. Mitford replied; "but
the place is not likely to improve were they to be here another ten.
They are a thriftless lazy lot, content to raise just sufficient for
their actual wants and to pay for whisky. These are the sort of people
who bring discredit on the colony by writing home declaring that there
is no getting on here, and that a settler's life is worse than a dog's.
"People who come out with an idea that a colony is an easy place to get
a living in are completely mistaken. For a man to succeed he must work
harder and live harder here than he would do at home. He is up with the
sun, and works until it is too dark to work longer. If he employs men he
must himself set an example to them. Men will work here for a master who
works himself, but one who thinks that he has only to pay his hands and
can spend his time in riding about the country making visits, or in
sitting quietly by his fire, will find that his hands will soon be as
lazy as he is himself. Then the living here is rougher than it is at
home for one in the same condition of life. The fare is necessarily
monotonous. In hot weather meat will not keep more than a day or two,
and a settler cannot afford to kill a sheep every day; therefore he has
to depend either upon bacon or tinned meat, and I can tell you that a
continuance of such fare palls upon the appetite, and one's meals cease
to be a pleasure. But the curse of the country, as of all our colonies,
is whisky. I do think the monotony of the food has something to do with
it, and that if men could but get greater variety in their fare they
would not have the same craving for drink. It is the ruin of thousands.
A young fellow who lands here and determines to work hard and to abstain
from liquors--I do not mean totally abstain, though if he has any
inclination at all towards drink the only safety is total abstinence--is
sure to get on and make his way, while the man who gives way to drink is
equally certain to remain at the bottom of the tree. Now we are just
passing the boundary of the holding you have come to see. You see that
piece of bark slashed off the trunk of that tree? That is what we call a
blaze, and marks the line of the boundary."
After riding a few minutes further the trees opened, and they found
themselves in a glade sloping down to the river. A few acres of land had
been ploughed up and put under cultivation. Close by stood the hut, and
beyond a grassy sward, broken by a few large trees, stretched down to
the river.
"That's the place," Mr. Mitford said, "and a very pretty one it is. Poor
young Langston chose his farm specially for that bit of scenery."
"It is pretty," Wilfrid agreed; "I am sure my father and mother will be
delighted with it. As you said, it is just like a piece of park land at
home."
The hut was strongly built of logs. It was about thirty feet long by
twenty wide, and was divided into two rooms; the one furnished as a
kitchen and living-room, the other opening from it as a bed-room.
"There is not much furniture in it," Mr. Mitford said; "but what there
is is strong and serviceable, and is a good deal better than the
generality of things you will find in a new settler's hut. He was
getting the things in gradually as he could afford them, so as to have
it really comfortably furnished by the time she came out to join him. Of
course the place will not be large enough for your party, but you can
easily add to it; and at any rate it is vastly better coming to a shanty
like this than arriving upon virgin ground and having everything to do."
"I think it is capital," Wilfrid said.
"Now we will take a ride over the ground, and I will show you what that
is like. Of course it will give you more trouble clearing away the
forest than it would do if you settled upon land without trees upon it.
But forest land is generally the best when it is cleared; and I think
that to people like your father and mother land like this is much
preferable, as in making the clearings, clumps and belts of trees can be
left, giving a home-like appearance to the place. Of course upon bare
land you can plant trees, but it is a long time before these grow to a
sufficient size to give a character to a homestead. Besides, as I told
you, there are already several other natural clearings upon the ground,
enough to afford grass for quite as many animals as you will probably
start with."
After an hour's ride over the holding and the lands adjoining it, which
Mr. Mitford advised should be also taken up, they returned to the hut. A
shout greeted them as they arrived, and they saw Mr. Atherton walking up
from the river towards the hut.
"A charming site for a mansion," he said as they rode up. "Mr. Mitford,
I think I shall make you a bid for this on my own account, and so cut
out my young friend Wilfrid."
"I am afraid you are too late," Mr. Mitford laughed. "I have already
agreed to give him the option of it, keeping it open until we can
receive a reply from his father."
"I call that too bad," Mr. Atherton grumbled. "However, I suppose I must
move on farther. But really this seems a charming place, and I am sure
Mrs. Renshaw will be delighted with it. Why, there must be thirty acres
of natural clearing here?"
"About that," Mr. Mitford replied; "and there are two or three other
patches which amount to about as much more. The other hundred and forty
are bush and forest. The next lot has also some patches of open land, so
that altogether out of the four hundred acres there must be about a
hundred clear of bush."
"And how about the next lot, Mr. Mitford?"
"I fancy that there is about the same proportion of open land. I have
only once been up the river higher than this, but if I remember right
there is a sort of low bluff rising forty or fifty feet above the river
which would form a capital site for a hut."
"I will set about the work of exploration this afternoon," Mr. Atherton
said, "and if the next lot is anything like this I shall be very well
contented to settle down upon it for a bit. I have always had a fancy
for a sort of Robinson Crusoe life, and I think I can get it here,
tempered by the change of an occasional visit to our friends when I get
tired of my own company."
The men had by this time brought up the basket of provisions, and the
two girls were spreading a cloth on the grass in the shade of a tree at
a short distance from the hut, for all agreed that they would rather
take their lunch there than in the abode so lately tenanted by young
Langston. After the meal was over the party mounted their horses and
rode back. One of the natives who had come up from the boat remained
with Mr. Atherton, the others started back in the boat, as Mr. Atherton
declared himself to be perfectly capable of making the journey on foot
when he had finished his explorations. He returned two days later, and
said he was quite satisfied with the proposed site for his hut and with
the ground and forest.
"I regard myself as only a temporary inhabitant," he said, "and shall be
well content if, when I am ready for another move, I can get as much for
the ground as I gave for it. In that way I shall have lived rent free
and shall have had my enjoyment for nothing, and, I have no doubt, a
pleasant time to look back upon."
"Do you never mean to settle down, Mr. Atherton?" Mrs. Mitford asked.
[Illustration: WILFRID AND THE GRIMSTONES FIND IT HARD WORK
_Page 197_]
"In the dim future I may do so," he replied. "I have been wandering ever
since I left college, some fifteen years ago. I return to London
periodically, spend a few weeks and occasionally a few months there,
enjoy the comforts of good living and club-life for a bit; then the
wandering fit seizes me and I am off again. Nature altogether made a
mistake in my case. I ought to have been a thin wiry sort of man, and in
that case I have no doubt I should have distinguished myself as an
African explorer or something of that sort. Unfortunately she placed my
restless spirit in an almost immovable frame of flesh, and the
consequence is the circle of my wandering is to a certain extent
limited."
"You make yourself out to be much stouter than you are, Mr. Atherton. Of
course you are stout, but not altogether out of proportion to your
height and width of shoulders. I think you put it on a good deal as an
excuse for laziness."
Mr. Atherton laughed. "Perhaps you are right, Mrs. Mitford, though my
weight is really a great drawback to my carrying out my views in regard
to travel. You see, I am practically debarred from travelling in
countries where the only means of locomotion is riding on horses. I
could not find animals in any foreign country that would carry me for
any distances. I might in England, I grant, find a weight-carrying cob
capable of conveying twenty stone along a good road, but I might search
all Asia in vain for such a horse, while as for Africa, it would take a
dozen natives to carry me in a hammock. No, I suppose I shall go on
wandering pretty nearly to the end of the chapter, and shall then settle
down in quiet lodgings somewhere in the region of Pall Mall."
Upon the day after his return from the inspection of the farm Wilfrid
wrote home to his father describing the location, and saying that he
thought it was the very thing to suit them. It would be a fortnight
before an answer could be received, and during that time he set to work
at Mr. Mitford's place to acquire as much knowledge as possible of the
methods of farming in the colony. The answer arrived in due course, and
with it came the two Grimstones. Wilfrid had suggested in his letter
that if his father decided to take the farm the two men should be sent
up at once to assist in adding to the hut and in preparing for their
coming, and that they should follow a fortnight later. Mrs. Mitford also
wrote, offering them a warm invitation to stay for a time with her until
their own place should be ready for their occupation.
Mr. Mitford had an inventory of the furniture of the hut, and this was
also sent, in order that such further furniture as was needed might be
purchased at Wellington. As soon as the letter was received, inclosing,
as it did, a cheque for a hundred pounds, Wilfrid went over with the two
Grimstones and took possession. Mr. Mitford, who was the magistrate and
land commissioner for the district, drew up the papers of application
for the plot of two hundred acres adjoining the farm, and sent it to
Wellington for Mr. Renshaw's signature, and said that in the meantime
Wilfrid could consider the land as belonging to them, as it would be
theirs as soon as the necessary formalities were completed and the money
paid.
When Wilfrid started, two natives, whom Mr. Mitford had hired for him,
accompanied him, and he also lent him the services of one of his own
men, who was a handy carpenter. The Grimstones were delighted with the
site of their new home.
"Why, it is like a bit of England, Master Wilfrid! That might very well
be the Thames there, and this some gentleman's place near Reading; only
the trees are different. When we get up a nice house here, with a garden
round it, it will be like home again."
During the voyage the Renshaws had amused themselves by drawing a plan
of their proposed house, and although this had to be somewhat modified
by the existence of the hut, Wilfrid determined to adhere to it as much
as possible. The present kitchen should be the kitchen of the new house,
and the room leading from it should be allotted to the Grimstones.
Adjoining the kitchen he marked out the plan of the house. It was to
consist of a sitting-room twenty feet square; beyond this was Mr. and
Mrs. Renshaw's bed-room; while behind it were two rooms, each ten feet
square, for himself and Marion. The roof was to project four feet in
front of the sitting-room, so as to form a verandah there.
A boat-load of supplies was sent up from Mr. Mitford's stores. These
consisted of flour, sugar, tea, molasses, and bacon, together with half
a sheep. It was arranged that while the building was going on Wilfrid
and the two Grimstones should occupy the bed-room, and that the natives
should sleep in the kitchen. The Grimstones had brought with them the
bedding and blankets with which they had provided themselves on board
ship, while Wilfrid took possession of the bed formerly occupied by the
young settler. Mr. Mitford himself came over next morning and gave
general instructions as to the best way of setting about the building of
the house. He had already advised that it should be of the class known
as log-huts.
"They are much cooler," he said, "in the heat of summer than frame-huts,
and have the advantage that in the very improbable event of troubles
with the natives they are much more defensible. If you like, afterwards,
you can easily face them outside and in with match-board and make them
as snug as you like; but, to begin with, I should certainly say build
with logs. My boy will tell you which trees you had better cut down for
the work. It will take you a week to fell, lop, and roughly square them,
and this day week I will send over a team of bullocks with a native to
drag them up to the spot."
The work was begun at once. Half a dozen axes, some adzes, and other
tools had been brought up with the supplies from the stores, and the
work of felling commenced.
Wilfrid would not have any trees touched near the hut.
"There are just enough trees about here," he said, "and it would be an
awful pity to cut them down merely to save a little labour in hauling.
It will not make any great difference whether we have the team for a
week or a fortnight."
Wilfrid and the two young Englishmen found chopping very hard work at
first, and were perfectly astounded at the rapidity with which the
Maoris brought the trees down, each of them felling some eight or ten
before the new hands had managed to bring one to the ground.
"I would not have believed it if I had not seen it," Bob, the elder of
the two brothers, exclaimed as he stood breathless with the perspiration
streaming from his forehead, "that these black chaps could have beaten
Englishmen like that! Half a dozen strokes and down topples the tree,
while I goes chop, chop, chop, and don't seem to get any nearer to it."
"It will come in time," Wilfrid said. "I suppose there is a knack in it,
like everything else. It looks easy enough, but it is not easy if you
don't know how to do it. It is like rowing; it looks the easiest thing
in the world until you try, and then you find that it is not easy at
all."
When work was done for the day Wilfrid and the Grimstones could scarcely
walk back to the hut. Their backs felt as if they were broken, their
arms and shoulders ached intolerably, their hands smarted as if on fire;
while the Maoris, who had each achieved ten times the result, were as
brisk and fresh as they were at starting. One of them had left work an
hour before the others, and by the time they reached the hut the flat
cakes of flour and water known as dampers had been cooked, and a large
piece of mutton was frizzling over the fire. Wilfrid and his companions
were almost too tired to eat, but they enjoyed the tea, although they
missed the milk to which they were accustomed. They were astonished at
the Maoris' appetite, the three natives devouring an amount of meat
which would have lasted the others for a week.
"No wonder they work well when they can put away such a lot of food as
that," Bob Grimstone said, after watching them for some time in silent
astonishment. "Bill and me was always considered as being pretty good
feeders, but one of these chaps would eat twice as much as the two of
us. I should say, Mr. Wilfrid, that in future your best plan will be to
let these chaps board themselves. Why, it would be dear to have them
without pay if you had to feed them!"
"Mutton is cheap out here," Wilfrid said. "You can get five or six
pounds for the price which one would cost you at home; but still, I do
not suppose they give them as much meat as they can eat every day. I
must ask Mr. Mitford about it."
He afterwards learned that the natives received rations of flour and
molasses and tobacco, and that only occasionally salt pork or fresh meat
were issued to them. But Mr. Mitford advised that Wilfrid should, as
long as they were at this work, let them feed with the men.
"You will get a good deal more out of them if they are well fed and in
good humour. When your people arrive the natives will of course have a
shanty of their own at some distance from your house, and then you will
put things on regular footing and serve out their rations to them
weekly. I will give you the scale usually adopted in the colony."
The second day Wilfrid and the Grimstones were so stiff that they could
at first scarcely raise their axes. This gradually wore off, and at the
end of three or four days they found that they could get through a far
greater amount than at first with much less fatigue to themselves; but
even on the last day of the week they could do little more than a third
of the amount performed by the natives. By this time an ample supply of
trees had been felled. The trunks had been cut into suitable lengths and
roughly squared. The bullocks arrived from Mr. Mitford's, and as soon as
the first logs were brought up to the house the work of building was
commenced. The Maori carpenter now took the lead, and under his
instructions the walls of the house rose rapidly. The logs were mortised
into each other at the corners; openings were left for the doors and
windows. These were obtained from Mr. Mitford's store, as they were
constantly required by settlers.
At a distance of four feet in front of the house holes were dug and
poles erected, and to these the framework of the roof was extended. This
point was reached ten days after the commencement of the building, and
the same evening a native arrived from Mr. Mitford's with a message that
the party from Wellington had arrived there and would come over the next
day. He also brought a letter to Wilfrid from the Allens, in answer to
one he had written them soon after his arrival, saying that they were so
pleased with his description of the district they should come down at
once, and, if it turned out as he described it, take up a tract of land
in his neighbourhood.
While Wilfrid had been at work he had seen Mr. Atherton several times,
as that gentleman had, upon the very day after his first trip up the
river, filled up the necessary papers, hired half a dozen natives, and
started up the river in a boat freighted with stores to his new
location. Wilfrid had not had time to go over to see him there, but he
had several times sauntered over from his place, which was half a mile
distant, after the day's work was over. He had got up his hut before
Wilfrid fairly got to work.
It was, he said, a very modest shanty with but one room, which would
serve for all purposes; his cooking being done by a native, for whom he
had erected a small shelter twenty yards away from his own.
"I have not quite shaken down yet," he said, "and do not press you to
come over to see me until I have got everything into order. I am sure
you feel thankful to me that I do not expect you to be tramping over to
see me after your long day's work here. By the time your people arrive I
shall have everything in order. I am expecting the things I have written
for and my own heavy baggage in a few days from Wellington."
Glad as he was to hear that his father and mother had arrived, Wilfrid
would have preferred that their coming should have been delayed until
the house was finished and ready for them, and after his first greeting
at the water side he said: "You must not be disappointed, mother, at
what you will see. Now everything is in confusion, and the ground is
covered with logs and chips. It looked much prettier, I can assure you,
when I first saw it, and it will do so again when we have finished and
cleared up."
"We will make all allowances, Wilfrid," his mother replied as he helped
her from the boat; "but I do not see that any allowance is necessary.
This is indeed a sweetly pretty spot, and looks as you said like a park
at home. If the trees had been planted with a special view to effect
they could not have been better placed."
"You have done excellently, Wilfrid," his father said, putting his hand
on his shoulder. "Mr. Mitford here has been telling me how energetically
you have been working, and I see that the house has made wonderful
progress."
Marion had, after the first greeting, leapt lightly from the boat and
run up to the house, towards which the others proceeded at a more
leisurely pace, stopping often and looking round at the pleasant
prospect. Marion was full of questions to Wilfrid when they arrived. Why
were the walls made so thick? How were they going to stop up the
crevices between the logs? Where were the windows and doors coming from?
What was the roof going to be made of? Was there going to be a floor, or
was the ground inside going to be raised to the level of the door-sill?
When did he expect to get it finished, and when would they be ready to
come in? Couldn't they get some creepers to run up and hide these ugly
logs? Was it to be painted or to remain as it was?
Wilfrid answered all these questions as well as he was able. There was
to be a floor over all the new portion of the building; Mr. Mitford was
getting up the requisite number of planks from a saw-mill at the next
settlement. The crevices were to be stopped with moss. It would be for
their father to decide whether the logs should be covered with
match-boarding inside or out, or whether they should be left as they
were for the present. It would probably take another fortnight to finish
the roof, and at least a week beyond that before the place would be fit
for them to move in.
"You see, Marion, I have built it very much on the plan we decided upon
on board the ship, only I was obliged to make a change in the position
of the kitchen and men's room. The two Grimstones are going to set to
work to-morrow to dig up a portion of the ploughed land behind the house
and sow vegetable seeds. Things grow very fast here, and we shall soon
get a kitchen-garden. As to flowers, we shall leave that to be decided
when you come here."
"I wish I could come over and live here at once and help," Marion said.
"There is nothing you can help in at present, Marion, and it will be
much more useful for you to spend a month in learning things at Mr.
Mitford's. You undertook to do the cooking; and I am sure that will be
quite necessary, for father and mother could never eat the food our
Maori cook turns out. And then you have got to learn to make butter and
cheese and to cure bacon. That is a most important point, for we must
certainly keep pigs and cure our own as Mr. Mitford does, for the stuff
they have got at most of the places we touched at was almost uneatable.
So, you see, there is plenty to occupy your time until you move in here,
and our comfort will depend a vast deal upon the pains you take to learn
to do things properly."
"What are you going to roof it with, Wilfrid?" Mr. Renshaw asked.
"We are going to use these poles, father. They will be split in two and
nailed with the flat side down on the rafters, and the shingles are
going to be nailed on them. That will give a good solid roof that will
keep out a good deal of heat. Afterwards if we like we can put beams
across the room from wall to wall and plank them, and turn the space
above into a storeroom. Of course that will make the house cooler and
the rooms more comfortable, but as it was not absolutely necessary I
thought it might be left for a while."
"I think, Wilfrid, I should like to have the rooms done with boards
inside at once. The outside and the ceiling you speak of can very well
wait, but it will be impossible to get the rooms to look at all neat and
tidy with these rough logs for walls."
"It certainly will be more comfortable," Wilfrid agreed. "Mr. Mitford
will get the match-boards for you. I will measure up the walls this
evening and let you know how much will be required. And now shall we
take a walk round the place?" The whole party spent a couple of hours in
going over the property, with which Mr. and Mrs. Renshaw were greatly
pleased. Luncheon had been brought up in the boat, and by the time they
returned from their walk Mrs. Mitford and her daughters, who had not
accompanied them, had lunch ready and spread out on the grass. The meal
was a merry one. Mr. Renshaw was in high spirits at finding things so
much more home-like and comfortable than he had expected. His wife was
not only pleased for herself, but still more so at seeing that her
husband evinced a willingness to look at matters in the best light, and
to enter upon the life before him without regret over the past.
"What are you going to call the place, Mr. Renshaw?" Mrs. Mitford asked.
"That is always an important point."
"I have not thought about it," Mr. Renshaw replied. "What do you think?"
"Oh, there are lots of suitable names," she replied, looking round. "We
might call it Riverside or The Park or The Glade."
"I think The Glade would be very pretty," Marion said; "Riverside would
suit so many places."
"I like The Glade too," Mrs. Renshaw said. "Have you thought of
anything, Wilfrid?"
"No, mother, I have never given it a thought. I think The Glade will do
nicely." And so it was settled, and success to The Glade was thereupon
formally drunk in cups of tea.
A month later the Renshaws took possession of their new abode. It looked
very neat with its verandah in front of the central portion, and the
creepers which Wilfrid had planted against the walls on the day after
their visit, promised speedily to cover the logs of which the house was
built. Inside the flooring had been planed, stained a deep brown and
varnished, while the match-boarding which covered the walls was stained
a light colour and also varnished. The furniture, which had arrived the
day before from Hawke's Bay was somewhat scanty, but Wilfrid and Marion,
who had come over for the purpose, had made the most of it. A square of
carpet and some rugs gave a cosy appearance to the floor, white curtains
hung before the windows and a few favourite pictures and engravings,
which they had brought with them from home, broke the bareness of the
walls. Altogether it was a very pretty and snug little abode of which
Mr. and Mrs. Renshaw took possession.