"It will make a tremendous change at Wellunga?"
"Yes; everything will tumble to pieces now; and the people will have their will at last! My mother must come and live up here, and the old place will stand empty. I say, Jess," to his sister, "you must take a pull at yourself. Hurry up and have breakfast, and pack. If we start soon we get down to-night, coolies and ponies were ordered by the runner, and oh—about you, Mallender, you can't stop here alone!"
"Why not! Of course I can. I'm not a nervous young lady. I'll be your overseer, understudy, and general bottle-washer!"
"No, no, you'd never have the right food, or care. You must go over to Kartairi, and stay with Mrs. Bourne."
"Pretty cool cheek, she'd think it!"
"Not she—nothing she likes better, than nursing and mothering sick fellows. I'll send her a line by the garden coolie."
His guest immediately made a mental note to the effect that no messenger should go to Kartairi that day; fancy allowing himself to be foisted on two women!—and he craftily turned the conversation, by asking for employment, and instructions.
"I'm rather a duffer," he concluded, "but I can keep an eye on things, and overawe the slackers."
"Yes; there will be lots for you to do," answered Tom. "You have a good head for figures, and you can make up the writer's books, do the roll-call, ride over the estate, look stern and important, and give the maistrey reason to believe that you are up to every mortal dodge!"
"Which I'm not!" protested Mallender, "I hardly know chick coffee from the real article. However, I'll poke about, and look after the picking, and the pulping-house, and do my best and 'bluff' like auction bridge."