At the moment Norah did not feel as though she could possibly sleep; but very soon her eyes grew heavy and she dozed off to dream, as she often dreamed, that she and Jim were riding over the Far Plain at Billabong, bringing in a mob of wild young bullocks. The cattle had never learned to drive, and broke back constantly towards the shelter of the timber behind them. There was one big red beast, in particular, that would not go quietly; she had half a dozen gallops after him in her dream with Bosun under her swinging and turning with every movement of the bullocks, and finally heading him, wheeling him, and galloping him back to the mob. Then another broke away, and Jim shouted to her, across the paddock.
“Norah! Norah!”
She woke with a start. A voice was calling her name, hoarsely; she groped for her dressing-gown and slippers, and ran to Geoffrey’s room. The nurse, also in her dressing-gown, was bending over the bed.
“You’re quick,” she said approvingly. “He only called you once. Take this, now, sonnie.”
“Norah!”
She bent down to him, taking the hot hand.
“I’m here, Geoff, old man. Take your medicine.”
“All right,” said Geoffrey. He gulped it down obediently and lay back. “Will Mother come?”
“Very soon now,” Norah said. “You know she had to be in London—just for one night. She’ll be back to-morrow.”
“It’s nearly to-morrow, now,” the nurse said. “Not far off morning.”