Dear Plutocrat

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Dear Plutocrat Page 3

by Anne Hampson


  'Quickly… that's the important word. Too quickly. You have to give it a fair trial. Any country is different from one's own and the all-important requisite for contentment is adaptation. You must adapt to many things—to the people and the climate, to the customs and the way of life obtaining in that country. This takes time and in some cases a great deal of perseverance. If people will neither devote the time, nor practise perseverance, then failure is inevitable. Perhaps it's because of my profession, but I'm afraid I have little or no patience with those who refuse to try.'

  Cherry was grimacing and Lin went rather red. Kate intervened to say that she was sure Lin was right, but once again expressed the hope that the life would come up to expectations.

  'It'll come up to expectations all right,' said Cherry gently. 'Why, it's going to be a piece of cake after what we've all been used to. The routine and hard work—what with the marking you bring home and the preparation of lessons. Lin and I worked almost every evening doing something or other for school. And you—your hours were fairly long, Kate. And in addition you often worked overtime. No, this life can't be as hard, and it certainly won't be as monotonous.'

  'Couldn't possibly be,' agreed Lin, leaning back against the tree under which she sat. 'I for one will never have any regrets.' Her brown eyes were on the great molten orb which was already touching the rim of the earth. 'Just look at that!'

  'Fantastic' Kate's gaze was dreamy as she scanned the vast expanse of timeless bush, quivering now with the glow shed by the interchange of colour as the tilting world closed over the sun and the entire immensity of earth and sky crept under the wing of descending dusk.

  'Well,' said Cherry practically as she gathered the crockery together, 'as there's nothing else to do we might as well make up our beds and go to sleep.'

  'I'll wash these dishes first,' offered Kate, getting up. 'We must be sparing with the water, you said?'

  Cherry nodded.

  'We took two wrong turnings,' she reminded Kate, 'and so we've been longer than anticipated. We have sufficient, though,' she added. 'So long as we don't make any more mistakes tomorrow.'

  'The roads from now on are not at all good, are they?' Kate poured some water into the kettle and put it on the stove to heat up.

  'Not as good as we've had, but I don't think there's anything to worry about. Other people use the roads, so they must be fairly good.'

  'Other people…' Kate smiled briefly. 'Mark Copeland and all his family.'

  'Family? Has he a family?'

  'I haven't the slightest idea. But Mr. Waring said he was thirty-four years old, so I imagine he's married with a family.'

  'You could be right.' Lin looked thoughtful. 'He said the Outback's no place for women,' she added as a reminder, and Kate laughed.

  'Concluded that he could warn us off by saying a thing like that. What an oddity he must be to think for one moment that I would be influenced by such nonsense.' She paused a while. 'If he is married I pity his wife. Arrogant creature that he is! And I bet he makes the most dictatorial father.'

  'I don't think he's all that much different from the rest,' said Cherry, sitting down again and watching Lin as she got the camp beds from the car. 'In this part of the world you have a community all its own, quite unique. It's a community of patriarchal graziers with immense cattle stations and plutocratic ideas which have evolved alongside the development of the stations. Status is measured in square miles of land owned; method of running these properties savours of the manorial system once existing in our country, with the owner as the lord and the employees as the underlings—I won't say villeins and serfs,' she added with a laugh, 'because it isn't quite so feudal as that.'

  'They call the owner Boss here,' supplemented Lin, beginning to unroll one of the sleeping-bags she had taken from the car. 'All our stockriders will have to call you Boss—and so shall we, if we do things as they should be done.'

  That led to laughter, and to Kate declaring with emphasis that she had no intention of answering to Boss, as she disliked the expression intensely.

  'Custom,' said Cherry. 'When in Rome…'

  'It has struck me,' responded Kate, 'that those tough Australian stockriders are likely to resent having someone like me for an employer, so I feel I must go very carefully. Wouldn't it be awful if they all decided to walk out on us?'

  'Couldn't,' decided Lin, shaking her head. 'Where else would they find jobs?'

  'No… I suppose you're right. Nevertheless, I must take care—we all must.'

  'I agree,' from Cherry, who was placing her sleeping bag on the low comfortable camp bed which Lin had already opened out. 'We shall have to practise the utmost tact, admitting that we're green and telling the men that we're hoping to learn from them.'

  Lin was now combing her hair, a mirror in one hand and the comb in the other.

  'Just think of all those gorgeous males—so manly and masculine…' Lin breathed audibly as she flicked the short fair fringe, then allowed it to fall into its natural wave. 'I shall probably have fifty or more to choose from!'

  'Males,' Cherry had begun to say even before Lin finished speaking, 'are usually manly and masculine.'

  'Categorically, yes,' agreed Lin, but added, 'when I talk of manliness I mean the he-man type—rugged and muscled and sinewed, and of course with skin the colour of copper-bronze.'

  'Sounds far too perfect to be true,' commented Kate, pouring the water into the washing-up bowl. 'I favour the gentle type myself; you know, the type who treats a woman as rather fragile even while he knows very well that she isn't. And he carries her about—'

  'Carries her about!' echoed Lin with well-feigned lack of comprehension.

  'Not literally, you chump! I mean that he anticipates her every want and panders to her whims. He's gallant, in other words.'

  Lin's expression became scathing.

  'If my ideal man's too perfect then yours doesn't exist—or if he does then he's as dull as ditchwater!'

  'I think,' mused Cherry, picking up a tea-towel and moving over to where Kate was washing the dishes, 'that my ideal is something between the two.'

  'Then don't expect to find him here. And most certainly Kate won't find hers, not in this tough country.'

  'I wouldn't be too sure about that. They have a smart set here—sons and daughters of the wealthy graziers. They belong to a new generation and have other interests besides the raising of cattle. They're very fashionable and Kate might just find her hero amongst them.'

  'You seem to know a lot about it,' said Lin a trifle enviously.

  'As a geographer it's my business to know about other countries and the way in which their peoples live.'

  'How are we going to meet up with this smart set?' Kate wanted to know, handing a plate to Cherry.

  'At the parties and shed dances.'

  'You expect we'll be invited?' Kate's tones were doubtful and Lin came in with a confident:

  'Most certainly we'll be invited. You're one of the elite round these parts, with your immense property. They'll all be falling over themselves to be friends with the owner of High Creek Downs.'

  Kate blushed and frowned, yet nodded automatically. She supposed she was among the elite; although it was frightening still, in spite of the growing success of her endeavours to get used to the idea of great wealth.

  They had soon finished the chores and Cherry now stoked up the fire with a huge branch she had dragged from a short distance away where the dead tree lay.

  'There, that should burn all night.' She wore a satisfied look and Kate's eyes softened. Cherry was thoroughly enjoying herself, and Kate sent up a little prayer that it would all come out as they hoped. It would be such a shame if they found that the terrain, or the climate, or the people did not come up to their optimistic expectations. 'Doesn't it make a lovely glow? I shan't want to go to sleep.'

  Through the firelight Kate and Lin exchanged glances. Lin spoke with unaccustomed softness as she said:

  'You're great to be with, Cherry
—and I take back all I've ever said about your being fussy. You know what you're about, all the time. I only wish I were half as efficient.' She gave a deprecating shrug. 'I should have got us lost in this wilderness had the navigating been left to me.'

  'I haven't proved to be a hundred per cent correct,' promptly returned Cherry. 'We took two wrong turnings, remember.'

  'Yes, but we weren't very long getting back on the right track,' Kate put in. 'You've done wonderfully well, Cherry—in every way.'

  The following morning they were up as dawn streaked across the vault of the sky, and they watched the sun come up as they worked. Its rays were thin, metallic, and a mist lay over the distant hills. Kate and Cherry prepared the breakfast while Lin packed the beds and sleeping bags into the boot of the car. The final act as they broke camp was to make sure the last dying embers of the fire were put out. And then they were on their way, driving through acacia and eucalyptus scrub on what was little more than a rough track, the colour of burnt sienna. The vastness around them was overpowering, but there was a certain extravagant beauty in the ageless landscape with its masses of wattles, whose dainty yellow blossom brightened the solemn vista of plain and hills and winding river bed.

  'I hope we shall have enough petrol,' Cherry was saying at lunchtime. 'We got off track again this morning and although we're back on the right road again we're running very low in petrol.'

  Three hours later, all breathing a great sigh of relief that the petrol had lasted out, they saw the house come into view. They had been driving through miles and miles of country inhabited by cattle. Stockmen were seen at times, in the far distance, and the girls would wave, debating on whose men they were, Kate's or Mark Copeland's.

  In defiance of Mark's order not to communicate with him personally Kate had written telling him when to expect her and saying that she hoped he would be able to be at High Creek Downs to meet her on her arrival. There had been no reply, but Kate had not really expected one. Somehow she had the impression that Mark Copeland was the sort of man who would have no patience with letter-writing, even in the ordinary way.

  'My, but it looks marvellous!' It was Cherry, jerked for once from her customary demeanour of calm composure, who made the exclamation as with the decreasing distance the outline of the small Georgian mansion became more clear. 'Are we really going to live in a place like that?'

  'Of course.' Pride edged Kate's voice, but inwardly she was acutely conscious of fluttering nerves. Did she really own this beautiful house?

  'We shall have to change our ways,' Lin was saying, pressing her foot down as eagerness overcame caution. 'We must always adopt the dignified role.'

  'But you're bent on spending most of your time in the saddle,' Kate reminded her with a smile.

  'When we're not in the saddle, I mean.' The car entered an even narrower track and Lin slackened speed. The drive came upon them suddenly; it led uphill and was flanked by trees, to one of which, at the entrance, was fastened the name: High Creek Downs.

  'It isn't true,' murmured Kate, and her heart seemed to be missing beats all the while they traversed the long drive through the grounds of the house. 'Oh, dear, I've got butterflies—dozens of them!'

  Cherry and Lin only laughed. It was plain that both were bubbling over with excitement at the prospect of living in such a splendid place as the house which was now directly in front of them, mellowed and stately and set in a frame of exotic flowers and trees.

  'Here we are, girls!' Lin stopped the car on the forecourt and for a short while they all just sat there and looked. 'Shall we carry you over the threshold?' added Lin, amused at Kate's pale face and clenched fists.

  'Don't be silly.' Kate opened the car door and stepped out. 'That's only for brides.'

  'I just felt we should demonstrate in some way our respect for the lady of property.'

  The door was already being opened and a large brown woman stared in some considerable curiosity at the three girls, all of whom began to mount the steps leading to the front door. Kate explained that she was the new owner of High Creek and that Mr. Copeland, the manager of the property, was supposed to be here to meet her.

  'He said a lady was arriving some time today.' The door opened wider and the three girls entered the hall. A fleeting glance was sufficient to surprise Kate. She had expected, somehow, that it would prove to be cluttered with furniture, the kind one would associate with an old man of ninety-six. But although the contents of the hall were old, they were of the most beautiful design and each piece appeared to have been chosen for its especial charm—chosen by a connoisseur. 'The Boss is out—' A comprehensive gesture of one dusky hand indicated the cattle run. 'He said to tell you he will be in at his usual time.'

  So he was not going to deviate from routine simply to accommodate her, thought Kate, a glimmer of anger entering her eyes.

  'What time will that be?' she wanted to know, and the woman said he would be back about five to half past. 'I see. Well, you can take us over the house. Is there someone who will take our luggage out of the car?'

  The woman, a lubra of about forty years of age, blinked and said:

  'You want your luggage taking out—here?'

  'But of course. Where else would I want it?'

  'I will call Ferdie.' The woman still appeared to be doubtful, but she called from the open door to a man who was just emerging from behind some bushes, a garden rake in his hand. She told him to take out the luggage, and he too seemed to act in a curious manner, because for one thing he gave a slight start on hearing the lubra's instructions and stopped in his tracks to stare at the three young ladies from England.

  'What's up with them both?' demanded Lin, sotto voce, 'You can't say they're welcoming, not by any stretch of imagination!'

  Kate was nodding in agreement, but her eye caught Cherry's expression and she stopped, frowning.

  'Is something wrong?' asked Kate.

  Cherry, thoughtful and strangely distant, came to, shaking her head in a reassuring way and saying no, there was nothing wrong, nothing at all.

  'Where shall I put the luggage?' Ferdie was standing on the step, looking from one girl to another. He had a decided squint and there was a long purple birthmark down the right side of his face. A more unprepossessing specimen of humanity Kate had never seen, and yet the fact that this man was working here afforded her a strange degree of satisfaction. He would probably find difficulty in obtaining employment anywhere else, and Kate knew a sudden warmth that her uncle should have given him a job.

  'Just leave it in the hall for now,' she said with a smile. 'We will choose our rooms and then you can take it up for us.'

  'Choose your rooms, miss?'

  'But of course. We have to sleep.' This from Lin, who stopped then, inclining her head in a gesture of apology to Kate for the interruption.

  A strange glance passed between Ferdie and the lubra, but nothing was said and the man began unloading the car while the lubra, who told them her name was Sophia, took them upstairs and showed them three bedrooms which they immediately chose, and as they were both hungry and dusty they decided to leave the exploration of the rest of the house until another time. Their suitcases were deposited in their respective rooms and after a wash and change the girls met again on the verandah, where Sophia had set out tea for them, obviously acting on orders she had been given by Mark Copeland.

  'Well, at least he left instructions that we were to be fed on arrival.' Kate's gaze wandered over the plain to the undulating landscape where cattle grazed under the sun. How strange it all was after the flat with its views on to roads back and front. It was on the outer edge of a vast housing estate and pavements and roofs formed the chief vista from the window of their sitting-room.

  Lin was sitting back in her chair, following the direction of Kate's gaze. Two horsemen were by the water trough, chatting together as their animals drank. Even from this distance they looked tough and rugged, hardened from the rigours of perpetual husbandry. The men separated, one riding l
eisurely towards a low rise on the summit of which another stockman and his horse were silhouetted against the clear brittle sky, while the other rode swiftly, in the direction of the house.

  'Gosh,' exclaimed Lin, her eyes widening with admiration, 'this one can ride!'

  And magnificent he looked, riding with such ease and grace that he might have been part of the horse itself, a massive chestnut stallion, proud as his master. Kate stared, conscious of vibrations shooting wildly through her body. This man was Mark Copeland… she was absolutely sure of it. So he had decided to return early after all and Kate wondered if perhaps the car had been visible from where he was, over by the trough.

  Ferdie was there to take the reins as he dismounted; he took the steps three at a time, with animal-like agility. A man of superlative physique and perfectly fit. Brown hair bleached much lighter at the front; angular features and a bronzed skin. His piercing blue eyes fixed each girl in turn. Kate said, angry as she heard the high-pitched note in her voice:

  'I'm Kate Beresford, and these are my friends—Miss Miller and Miss Goddard. I presume you are Mr. Copeland?'

  'Your presumption's correct.' There was a sort of lazy ease about him which contrasted sharply with the vitality displayed in the saddle. 'You managed to get here without mishap, apparently,' he added in his slow Australian drawl, and Kate's eyes took on a distinct sparkle. It was on the tip of her tongue to assert sarcastically that he had probably been hoping for mishaps, but she curbed such outright rudeness and said instead:

  'Thank you, yes; we had a most pleasant journey.'

  'I'm glad to hear it. You must be a good organizer—' He stopped, then added, 'Or did one of your friends do the planning?'

  Spots of pink became visible in Kate's cheeks.

  'Perhaps,' she said with great dignity, 'we should get down to business. I've met Sophia, who showed us our rooms, and Ferdie, who seems to be the odd-job man. I should like to be introduced to some other of my employees.' She caught Lin's approving eye and continued, with the same cold dignity, 'I do realize that the stockriders are out on the—er—range, but one or two of them might be sent for, don't you think? I expect there's a foreman among them?'

 

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