Eleanor Rainsfield, who, as already introduced to the reader as Mr. Rainsfield's cousin, was the daughter of that gentleman's deceased uncle, who had early emigrated, with a newly-married wife, to the colony. He was by profession a medical man, and for many years during his early residence in the country, pursued his avocation profitably; but in the midst of an extending practice he lost his wife, to whom he was fondly and devotedly attached. The effect of this blow he never thoroughly got over, but gradually became in every respect an altered man. From one of unflinching energy and firm determination, he degenerated into a desponding, weak, and vacillating imbecile; and lingered on in a mental aberration for some two years, when he died. During the period of his distraction it is not surprising that his practice rapidly declined, and ultimately became completely destroyed; hence, upon his demise, his family were left perfectly destitute.
From the time of her mother's death Eleanor became the director of all the family affairs, and the domestic responsibility gave her an appearance of thoughtfulness and care hardly consistent with one so young; while the effects still adhering to her, her manner seemed to retain an habitual reserve and melancholy. At the period of her introduction to John Ferguson she was about sixteen; her figure, though not absolutely slender, was light and active, and of that altitude which, in women, would be considered the medium; not so short as to appear little, nor so tall but that she could look up to a man of ordinary stature. Her form was well modelled, and rounded off to perfection. Her shoulders were of that description so generally fashioned by the chisel of the sculptor, though, possibly, they were rather a shade too broad; being such as would give the beholder the idea of the owner, when more matured, of being a "fine woman." Her movements were effected with a native grace, at once denoting the lady; and her elasticity of tread, and firmness of step, were only equalled by her loftiness of carriage. Her face was of the oval form, with a wide marble forehead (which, but for her winning modesty and gentle manner, would have been considered as bearing the stamp of coldness and hauteur); eyebrows so well defined, as almost to give an idea of pencilling; deep blue lustrous eyes, protected by long lashes; a nose slightly tending to the aquiline; a mouth of enticing sweetness, and an alabaster cheek, almost imperceptibly tinged with the faintest pink. Her hair of "bonny brown," and of which she had a luxuriant crop, was worn slightly off the cheek. Her dress was neatness and elegance combined; so made as to come up to the throat, and there terminate in a neat open collar; under which was a pink ribbon, contrasting pleasingly with the otherwise pale-looking features of the wearer. Her sleeves ended in a band, which encircled her wrists, and displayed a pair of hands, rivalling in symmetry the choicest sculpture, and in whiteness the calico on which she was industriously employing herself. Her features, though not perfect, were calm and beautifully expressive, and the lustre of her complexion at once struck the beholder with admiration; while, to her, affectation being unknown, the easy confidence with which she approached and welcomed a stranger, rendered her perfectly bewitching; and to this description we may add, that, though in the florescence of youth, she was in the full bloom of womanhood.
Start not, gentle reader, at the paradox we have uttered; for in Australia, that land of precocity, where both vegetable and animal nature shoots up into maturity so quickly, the transition appears almost miraculous; and those we have known yesterday as children, we are surprised, probably, after a year or two's absence, to see grown to man or woman's estate. Such cases are not the exception, but the rule. So, therefore, be not surprised when we state that at an age, when, in this staid old-fashioned going country, match-making matrons may be thinking of introducing their daughters to the world, their cognates, the fair "corn-stalks" of Australia, will not only have long since made their debût in society, but have settled into devoted wives and happy mothers. And, bless their little hearts! we doubt not, but that, as they are matured both in person and mind at an earlier age, and have consequently less time and opportunities to acquire the deceptions of society, they are as much, if not more, calculated to fulfil their worldly destiny, with credit to themselves and happiness to their concomitants, as their more favoured sisters of our own glorious isle.
Eleanor Rainsfield, as we have hinted, retained a cast of melancholy in her features, which gave her an appearance of coldness and reserve to strangers, aided, perhaps, by a natural diffidence and desire for seclusion; which she preferred to thrusting herself forward, or mixing much with the world. When known, however, she was gentle and kind, with an amiability and candour exceedingly attractive; and when interested with the conversation of one for whom she entertained respect, a smile usually played over her placid features and made her perfectly irresistible. This smile would vanish with the cessation of the conversation, and the evanescent animation pass with it; leaving the stranger in doubt, when gazing on the returning gloom, if the former sunshine had been the effect of pleasurable emotions, or a shadowing forth of a latent melancholy. She was highly accomplished, and her mind was the emblem of purity itself. Her present refuge had been offered to her by her cousin upon the death of her father, and gratefully accepted; while the remainder of the family had been dispersed amongst various relatives.
The other members of the Rainsfield family were the children, of whom we have already made mention, and Thomas Rainsfield, a junior brother of the proprietor of the station, with whom he was "acquiring experience." He was a fine, frank, open-hearted young fellow of about three-and-twenty; but as he was absent from home at the period of which we write, we will defer introducing him to the reader until we can do so in propria personæ. In a small cottage, a short distance from the house, resided Mr. Billing (who acted as clerk and storekeeper, and whose duties were to keep the accounts of the station, and distribute the rations to the men) and his wife (who officiated as governess); with sundry olive branches, who bore unmistakeable evidences, from their facial delineations, of their Billing paternity.
John Ferguson, in a few words, explained the nature of the mishap which had occasioned his visit, and begged Mr. Rainsfield to supply his wants, until such time as he could receive a further supply. The required accommodation was willingly acceded to; and Mr. Rainsfield remarked that he would give instructions to Mr. Billing to send it over to Fern Vale, the first time that he sent out the rations; and as that would be on the following day, he had no doubt that the arrangement would suit his neighbour.
John replied to Mr. Rainsfield, that he was exceedingly obliged to him for his kind offer; but stated that as he would be returning to the station at once, he would save him the trouble by taking a bag with him on his horse.
"Nonsense," cried his entertainer, "I can never think of letting you leave us in such a hurry; you have nothing that requires your immediate return, and you may as well favour us with your company for a few days, at any rate until you hear of the approach of your sheep; by which time I expect Tom will have returned, and no doubt we may manage to give you a hand to get them over the river. Besides, the ladies are always complaining of ennui, and will be happy of your society in the disposal of a few leisure hours. I am sure I need not appeal to my wife, to confirm my welcome; for though she now preserves a strict silence, I know she is desirous for you to remain."
"Indeed, my dear," replied the lady, "you are perfectly correct in your conjectures. I should indeed be pleased if Mr. Ferguson would remain with us for a few days; not to make a convenience of him in the manner which you describe, but to impress him with a favourable idea of the neighbours amongst whom he has settled. So, if he will allow himself to be persuaded, we will arrange his domestication in as short a time as possible."
"I am exceedingly indebted to you, Mrs. Rainsfield, for your expression of kind feeling," exclaimed John; "and, if not putting you to too great inconvenience, I will accept the hospitality of your worthy husband and yourself, to await the approach of my brother."