was a luncheon, and it wouldhave done credit to the wedding of a Highland laird or lord, let alone aminer and _quondam_ poacher. But Australia is a queer place. Bob'smoney at all events had been honestly come by, and everybody hailed himking of the day. He knew he was king, and simply did as he pleased.Here is one example of his abounding liberality. Before starting backfor town that day he turned to Archie, as a prince might turn:
"Archie, chummie," he said.
"You see those boys?"
"Yes."
"Well, they all look cheeky."
"Very much so, Bob."
"And I dearly love a cheeky boy. Scatter a handful of coins among them,and see that there be one or two yellow ones in the lot."
"What nonsense!" cried Archie; "what extravagant folly, Bob!"
"All right," said Bob quietly. "I've no money, but--" He pulled out hissplendid gold hunter.
"What are you going to do?"
"Why, let them scramble for the watch."
"No, no, Bob; I'll throw the coins."
"You have to," said Bob, sitting down, laughing.
The dinner, and the dance afterwards, were completely successful. Therewas no over-crowding, and no stuck-up-ness, as Bob called it. Everybodydid what he pleased, and all were as happy and jolly as the night waslong.
Bob did not go away on any particular honeymoon. He told Sarah theywould have their honeymoon out when they went to the Bush.
Meanwhile, day after day, for a week, the miner bridegroom kept openhouse for Archie's friends; and every morning some delightful trip wasarranged, which, faithfully carried out, brought everyone hungry andhappy back to dinner.
There is more beauty of scenery to be seen around Sydney in winter thanwould take volumes to describe by pen, and acres of canvas to depict;and, after all, both author and artist would have to admit that they hadnot done justice to their subject.
Now that he had really found friends--humble though they might beconsidered in England--life to Archie, which before his accident wasvery grey and hopeless, became bright and clear again. He had apresent, and he believed he had a future. He saw new beautieseverywhere around him, even in the city; and the people themselves, whoin his lonely days seemed to him so grasping, grim, and heartless, beganto look pleasant in his eyes. This only proves that we have happinesswithin our reach if we only let it come to us, and it never will whilewe sit and sulk, or walk around and growl.
Bob, with his young wife and Archie and Harry, made many a pilgrimageall round the city, and up and through the sternly rugged and grandscenery among the Blue Mountains. Nor was it all wild and stern, forvalleys were visited, whose beauty far excelled anything else Archie hadever seen on earth, or could have dreamt of even. Sky, wood, hill,water, and wild flowers all combined to form scenes of loveliness thatwere entrancing at this sweet season of the year.
Twenty times a day at least Archie was heard saying to himself, "Oh, howI wish sister and Rupert were here!"
Then there were delightful afternoons spent in rowing about the bay.
I really think Bob was taking the proper way to enjoy himself after all.He had made up his mind to spend a certain sum of money on seeing allthat was worth seeing, and he set himself to do so in a thoroughlybusiness way. Well, if a person has got to do nothing, the best plan isto do it pleasantly.
So he would hire one of the biggest, broadest-beamed boats he couldfind, with two men to row. They would land here and there in the courseof the afternoon, and towards sunset get well out into the centre of thebay. This was the time for enjoyment. The lovely chain of houses, thewoods, and mansions half hid in a cloudland of soft greens and hazyblues; the far-off hills, the red setting sun, the painted sky, and thewater itself casting reflections of all above.
Then slowly homewards, the chains of lights springing up here, there,and everywhere as the gloaming began to deepen into night.
If seeing and enjoying such scenes as these with a contented mind, agood appetite, and the certainty of an excellent dinner on their return,did not constitute genuine happiness, then I do not know from personalexperience what that feeling is.
But the time flew by. Preparations had to be made to leave thisfascinating city, and one day Archie proposed that Bob and he shouldvisit Winslow in his suburban villa.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
MR WINSLOW IN A DIFFERENT LIGHT.
"You'll find him a rough stick," said Archie.
"What, rougher than me or Harry?" said Bob.
"Well, as you've put the question I'll answer you pat. I don't considereither you or Harry particularly rough. If you're rough you're right,Bob, and it is really wonderful what a difference mixing with the worldhas done for both of you; and if you knew a little more of the rudimentsof English grammar, you would pass at a pinch."
"Thank ye," said Bob.
"You've got a bit of the bur-r-r of Northumbria in your brogue, but I dobelieve people like it, and Harry isn't half the Cockney he used to be.But, Bob, this man--I wish I could say gentleman--Winslow never was, andnever could be, anything but a shell-back. He puts me in mind of thewarty old lobsters one sees crawling in and out among the rocks awaydown at the point yonder.
"But, oh!" added Archie, "what a little angel the daughter is! Ofcourse she is only a baby. And what a lovely name--Etheldene! Isn't itsweet, Bob?"
"I don't know about the sweetness; there is a good mouthful of it,anyhow."
"Off you go, Bob, and dress. Have you darned those holes in yourgloves?"
"No; bought a new pair."
"Just like your extravagance. Be off!"
Bob Cooper took extra pains with his dressing to-day, and when heappeared at last before his little wife Sarah, she turned him round andround and round three times, partly for luck, and partly to look at himwith genuine pride up and down.
"My eye," she said at last, "you does look stunning! Not a pin insight, nor a string sticking out anywheres. You're going to see a younglady, I suppose; but Sarah ain't jealous of her little man. She likesto see him admired."
"Yes," said Bob, laughing; "you've hit the nail straight on the head; Iam going to see a young lady. She is fourteen year old, I think. Butbless your little bobbing bit o' a heart, lass, it isn't for her I'mdressed. No; I'm going with t' young Squire. He may be all the same asus out here, and lets me call him Archie. But what are they out here,after all? Why, only a set o' whitewashed heathens. No, I must dressfor the company I'm in."
"And the very young lady--?"
"Is a Miss Winslow. I think t' young Squire is kind o' gone on her,though she _is_ only a baby. Well, good-bye, lass."
"Good-bye, little man."
Etheldene ran with smiles and outstretched arms to meet Archie, but drewback when she noticed the immense bearded stranger.
"It's only Bob," said Archie. "Is your father in?"
"Yes, and we're all going to have tea out here under the trees."
The "all" was not a very large number; only Etheldene's governess andfather, herself, and a girl playmate.
Poor Etheldene's mother had died in the Bush when she was little morethan a baby. The rough life had hardly suited her. And this child hadbeen such a little bushranger from her earliest days that her presentappearance, her extreme beauty and gentleness, made another of thosewonderful puzzles for which Australia is notorious.
Probably Etheldene knew more about the blacks, with their strangecustoms and manners, their curious rites and superstitions, and moreabout the home life of wallabies, kangaroos, dingoes, birds, insects,and every thing that grew wild, than many a professed naturalist; butshe had her own names, or names given by blacks, to the trees and to thewild flowers.
While Etheldene, somewhat timidly it must be confessed, was leading bigBob round the gardens and lawns by the hand as if he were a kind ofexaggerated schoolboy, and showing him all her pets--animate andinanimate--her ferns and flowers and birds, Winslow himself came uponthe scene with the _Morning Herald_ in his hand. He was dressed--ifdressi
ng it could be called--in the same careless manner Archie had lastseen him. It must be confessed, however, that this semi-negligent styleseemed to suit him. Archie wondered if ever he had worn a necktie inhis life, and how he would look in a dress suit. He lounged up withcareless ease, and stuck out his great spade of a hand.
Archie remembered he was Etheldene's father, and shook it.
"Well, youngster, how are you? Bobbish, eh? Ah, I see Ethie has got intow with a new chum. Your friend? Is he now? Well, that's the sort ofman I like. He's bound to do well in this country. You ain't a badsort yourself, lad; but nothing to that, no more than a young turkey isto an emu. Well, sit down."
Mr Winslow
From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New Page 24