“Indeed, I thought it was only wives who were going,” she said. “I didn't know sisters were permitted.”
“I believe General Harran managed our passages,” Cecilia said. “He has been very kind to my brother.”
“Well, you should have a merry voyage, for there will be scarcely any young girls on board,” said Mrs. Burton, her new friend. “Most of the women on the transports are brides, of course. Ever so many of our men have married over here.”
“You are an Australian?” Cecilia asked.
“Oh, yes. My husband isn't. He was an old regular officer, and returned to his regiment as soon as war broke out. I don't think there will be many women on board: the Nauru isn't a family ship, you know.”
“What is that?” Cecilia queried.
“Oh, a ship with hundreds of women and children—privates' wives and families, as well as officers'. I believe they are rather awful to travel on—they must be terrible in rough weather. The non-family ships carry only a few officers' wives, as a rule: a much more comfortable arrangement for the lucky few.”
“And we are among the lucky few?”
“Yes. I only hope my small boys won't be a nuisance. I've never been without a nurse for them until last night. However, I suppose I'll soon get into their ways.”
“You must let me help you,” Cecilia said. “I love babies.” She stroked Tim's curly head as she spoke: Dickie, his little brother, had suddenly fallen asleep on his mother's knee.