"Leave him to me, Bottles; I'll keep him severely in order," she laughed. "Meanwhile, come and have some tea with us; I'm sure you need some."
The boys followed her into a big restaurant, so crowded that they found some difficulty in finding a table. A band was playing softly, and somewhere near them a little fountain plashed gently under a clump of tree-ferns, catching rays of rosy light from some concealed source overhead. A waitress brought them tea and muffins, with a dish of cakes so attractive that the only problem was which to choose; and their satisfaction was heightened presently by the spectacle of three senior boys from their own school wandering helplessly about in a vain attempt to find a resting place. Bottles and Dick nodded kindly to them, and felt intensely superior, selecting cakes with a calm enjoyment that brought murderous feelings to the three prefects, who propped themselves against a pillar and waited dismally for someone to vacate a table, which no one seemed inclined to do. Indeed, they were still standing when Mrs. Lester called for her bill.
"We might as well give those three boys this table," she said. "I suppose you know them, Dick?"
Dick knew them as the cabin boy may be expected to know the captain and chief officer of his ship, as superior and mighty beings, too far above him to dream of more than the curtest recognition. One of them had cuffed him for getting in his way in the playground no later than yesterday. It was therefore somewhat soothing to have the opportunity of sauntering across to these lords of creation and remarking; "Care to have our table, Landon?" And soothing, too, to see how meekly the famished ones accepted the invitation, and how the lordliness of demeanour that seemed part of them at school fell from them when Mrs. Lester spoke to them. Landon, indeed, blushed like any junior, and stammered in his answer, which gave unmitigated joy to Bottles and Dick, and formed the subject of much merry jest in the dormitory that night.
Bottles said good-bye after tea, and took himself back to school, while Dick and his mother, their shopping finished, boarded a tram that landed them near the Fitzroy Gardens, where the flowers were beginning to show promise of their spring blaze of glory, and the splendid stretches of turf under the great trees made a haven of refuge to tired city dwellers. They found a quiet seat in a sheltered corner—there was still something of winter in the breeze—and talked, filling in all the gaps that even the longest letters must leave when the smallest detail is eagerly treasured. Dick heaved a great sigh when at length they rose and strolled slowly across the lawns towards the street.
"I feel almost as if I'd been home again," he said. "My word, mother, won't it be gorgeous to go back to Kurrajong—and to take father!"
CHAPTER II.
DICK GOES WEST.
Spencer Street Station, and the long line of the Adelaide express glittering beside the long grey platform, the great carriages brave with polished and shining glass and nickel. People were hurrying to and fro, looking for seats, hurrying porters with trucks of luggage, raiding the bookstall for bundles of magazines and papers, and the fruit stall for oranges and bananas and baskets of early Queensland strawberries. The express conductors, who are chosen for their good manners, among other qualifications, stood near the entrance to the saloon carriages, good to look on in their blue and silver uniforms; quick to render aid to real passengers, or gently to head off idle folk who merely wished to stroll through the train and look curiously at the travellers. Boys, laden with bundles of evening papers, rent the air with shouts of "'Erald—Penny 'Erald!" snatched at coppers held towards them through the windows, or impatiently sought for change for anxious ladies who insisted on tendering half a crown for a paper, and craned their necks anxiously after the boys as they rushed to the bookstall for the money. People hurried along outside the carriages, peering in through the wide, nickel-barred windows for friends whom they wished to farewell. A theatrical company occupied several compartments, and occasioned a solid block of people outside their windows, through which their admirers thrust offerings of sweets and flowers. There were snatches of song from this section of the train, shouts of "Good-bye!" "Good luck!" and "Come back again!"—and many of the newly-arrived bouquets were pulled to pieces by their owners in response to the clamorous demand for souvenirs.
Dick Lester and his mother arrived in the wake of a porter laden with hand-baggage, and fought their way through the throng until they reached one of the blue and silver conductors. He glanced at the number of Mrs. Lester's ticket, and then, ushering them into the carriage, led them along a wide corridor until he came to an empty compartment.