“And, Uncle, he goes about his work when his heart’s not in it, and people up here will be saying that he’s slow and dull, when all the time he’s not in his right place. He’s a round peg in a square hole, or a square peg in a round hole, or some such thing, and he’s helping to fight the drought and do the work he hates, and never complains, because he says he’d be a cad if he did, and all the time he’s dying to be an electrical engineer. He’s saving his money, but he doesn’t get much wages, and I believe he’ll be too tired whenever the time does come for him to go away—but if he only has a chance, Uncle—a chance while he’s young and dying to get to work, he’d be clever; I’m sure he would.”
Mollie’s cheeks were flaming now, and her eyes were shining again.
“He’s never told anyone but me, Uncle—and I’ve thought about it ever since. When I see the big Brown and Smith boys going about here and thinking they’re smarter than Frank—because they never think of anything else, and only live for land and stock—I get that wild, Uncle, to think that Frank might never have the chance to show them how smart he could be—but you won’t tell him I’ve told you, because he would be so annoyed. I want you to pretend you’ve found out for yourself and give him a chance, Uncle—or tell him you will later on. Oh, if he only knew that there was a chance of his getting to his loved studies, and a chance to make a name for himself later on, this work wouldn’t be half so hard, because he’d have something to live for—and if you will help him, Uncle, tell him soon, please,” Mollie rattled on; “tell him to-night if you can, because there’s a big sheep draft to-morrow, and I know he hates them, and if you tell him it will help and cheer him through the heat and dust of the day.”
“Well, well, Mollie, you’ve given me something to think about. So Frank wants to be an electrical engineer, does he? Well—well——”
Then Uncle gazed away into space, and sat so long silent that Mollie became anxious.
“It’s awfully mean of us to trouble you so much, Uncle, because you have money—but—but you’ll never be sorry for helping Frank—and——”
“Well, well, Mollie, so that’s his dream, is it? I had dreams, too, when I was a youngster, and I had no one to help me. I’m rich now, but my dream has never been realised—but—the boy must have his chance; we must get the square peg out of the round hole—and we must do it soon!”
“Oh, Uncle!” was all Mollie could gasp, and then almost before she was aware of it she had thrown her arms round his neck and kissed him; then sped away through the trees towards home, with a great, singing gladness in her heart. And Uncle, left alone, threw his book down and gazed into space.
“God bless you, little Mollie,” he murmured. “You’re smoothing the way for others. Frank must have his chance; I knew he was out of his groove here—and I’ll tell him to-night to cheer him—through the heat and dust of the day.... Ah! Jean! Jean! if only you’d been true and cheered me through the heat and dust of the years!”
Late that night, when the moon was shedding its glory over the Gillong garden, and glinting on the shining pepper leaves, Mollie stole out to where she saw a figure pacing to and fro among the moonbeams and shadows.