“Oh, not enough to grumble at,” she answered, smiling. “And the bathing-hole in the creek is a joy; it's almost worth a hot day to get a swim at the end of it. Bob has built me a bathing-box out of a tree, and it's a huge success; he's very pleased with himself as an architect.”
“That's good business,” approved Jim. “You two never grumble, no matter what comes along.”
“Well, but nothing has come along but good luck,” Tommy said. “What have we had to grumble at, I should like to know?”
“Oh, some people find cause for grousing, no matter how good their luck is,” Jim answered. “I believe you and old Bob would decline to recognize bad luck even if it did come your way.”
“It's not coming,” Tommy said, laughing. “So don't talk about it—I don't believe it exists.” She stood watching him for a moment as he tried to mount; his big young thoroughbred resented the idea of anyone on his back, and Jim had to hop beside him, with one foot in the stirrup, while he danced round in a circle, trying to get away. Jim seized an opportunity, and was in the saddle with a lithe swing; whereupon the horse tried to get his head down to buck, and, being checked in that ambition, progressed down the paddock in a succession of short, staccato bounds.
“I think I should have to recognize bad luck coming if I had to ride him instead of Jim,” remarked Tommy quaintly. She turned and ran in to her neglected apricots.
New Year's day broke clear and hot, like all the week before it. Norah, arriving at the Creek about ten o'clock, looked a little anxiously at her friend.
“We're used to riding in the heat, Tommy, dear,” she said. “But you're not—are you sure you feel up to it?”
“Why, I'm going to love it,” Tommy said. She looked cool and workman-like in a linen habit and white pith helmet—Norah's Christmas present. “I hadn't these nice things to wear when Bob and I brought the sheep out from Cunjee three weeks ago; and it was just as hot, and so dusty. And that didn't kill me. I liked it, only I never got so dirty in my life.”
“Well, we shall only have a hot ride one way,” said Norah philosophically. “There's a concert in Cunjee, and the boys want to stay for it. The concert won't be much, but the ride home in the moonlight will be lovely. You and Bob can stay, of course?”