"The names given by the colonists to these new and remarkable trees are puzzling and inapplicable. This tree, named by them the red cedar, is certainly not a cedar; though it is very useful, being our best timber tree, the wood resembling mahogany. The apple-tree bears no fruit, and has no claim whatever to the tantalizing name. The rose-wood, so called from its delicate perfume, is a kind of Meliaceæ, the fruit of which is uneatable. Then we have the cherry, Exocarpus, the fruit of which is useless, and peculiarly unlike the dear old cherry of England, with which, however, I trust to regale you in a few months. I can already discover the white blossoms of the tree peeping over my garden walls; and I propose that we give these tired horses to the men, and walk up the hill, that you may contemplate leisurely the imposing appearance of my baronial hall."
But however Edward Deverell might depreciate his mansion, the distressed wanderers regarded its appearance with admiration and delight as they passed over the sloping lawn, laid out with excellent taste in parterres of gay-colored flowers rising from the green turf, which was enamelled with the daisies of England; and saw the pretty house which offered them shelter after fifteen months of wandering.
The building, though entirely of wood, was picturesque and spacious. It was surrounded by a large garden, beyond which were raised the large storehouse; stables, and farm-buildings. Along the front of the house was a broad veranda, supported by columns, entwined with roses, honeysuckles, and the well-loved creeping flowers of England, now bursting into blossom; while the large portico was curtained with draperies of the rich flowering climbers of Australia—the convolvulus, the curious passion-flower, and other graceful unknown plants, to stimulate the curiosity of the botanists.
But it was not at this moment that all the beauties of the Grange were observed, for the hospitable doors stood open, and the agitated party were hurried into the cool and spacious hall, where Mrs. Deverell and her smiling daughter waited to welcome Edward and his unexpected companions.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
The Comforts of Civilization.—Susan Raine.—The Hamlet and the Church.—Plans for the Future.—Mrs. Edward Deverell.—The Beauties of Daisy Grange.
The excitement of the reception was great: such screams of wonder and delight! so many tears at the thoughts of the trials and sufferings of the wanderers and so much laughter at their tattered condition! Then succeeded such haste and bustle to procure immediate aid to restore to them the comforts of which they had been so long deprived, and to spread the hospitable board with the refreshments so long untasted.
It was only by interjections and extorted answers that any details of their trials were known at first. It was necessary that they should be restored to the likeness of civilized beings; and the servants vied with their master and mistress in providing food and raiment for the needy.
"Tell me, dear Emma," said Margaret, as she brushed her dishevelled hair and arrayed herself in a clean muslin dress belonging to her friend,—"tell me if you have still, and unmarried, the pretty dairy-maid, Susan Raine, who accompanied you from England. One of our faithful attendants, though rude and unpolished, will be broken-hearted if he does not find his Susan here."