“Well, that’s no bad thing—though I’d like to see a little more of Ireland,” said Wally, subsiding upon grass. “Poor old Brownie! can’t you see her, Nor, struggling over this in the kitchen at home. She’d be so much happier over tackling a day’s baking.”
“She would, indeed,” Norah assented, her eyes a little misty. She touched the scrawled pages of the old nurse-housekeeper’s letter, her hand resting on it as though it were a living thing. Brownie had been all the mother she had known, and the bond between them was very close. The ill-written sheets brought vividly to her the kind old face, beaming with love as she had always known it.
“Dear Miss Norah,” began Brownie, with due formality. Then the formality slumped.
“My dearie, the place is lost without you all everyone arsks me as soon as the male comes wots in the letters and are you coming back soon the hot whether is over thang goodness and we have had good rain and the place is lookin splendid all the horses are in great condishun and Murty says to tell you Bosun is fit to jump out of his skin Murty won’t let anyone but himself ride him or Garyowin or Monnuk or the chesnet colt and it keeps him pretty busy keepin them all exercised. Black Billy is no better than he was he is a limb and no mistake it will be a mersy when Mr. Jim comes back to keep that boy in order and your Pa too he will not take no notice of anyone else. We are always wonderin and hopin about the war will it soon be over and that old Kyser hung and how are Mr. Jim and Mr. Wally we all know they will fight as well as any Englishman or any two Germans. But the best of all will be when the old war is over and you all come home to Billabong tell Mr. Wally I have not forgot to make pikelits like he likes they will be waiting for him we got their photergrafs in uniform and dont they look beautiful only so grown up I keep thinking of them just little boys ridin the ponies like they always was in short pants and socks and plenty of darnin they give me to do which it was always a pleasure I’m sure do they look after you well in that old London i hope they feed you proply in that big hotel im told their sheets is always damp do be careful dearie. We try to look after everything the way the master and Mr. Jim would like it juring their absence Murty is sendin word about the stock so i will leave that part of it aloan the garden is lookin grand the ortum roses all out just blazin along the walls and fences there are other flowers but its no good i cant spell them not being no hand with the pen but you will know them all without me tellin the dogs are well but they miss you like all the rest of us also the Wallerby and so my dearie no more at present only come back soon we all send our love and hoppin you are well
“Brownie.”
Wally put down the letter, after folding it slowly. Norah, who had read it again over his shoulder, put out her hand for it and tucked it into the pocket of her coat. Neither spoke for awhile. Ireland had faded away: they saw only a long low house with a garden blazing with roses—a kitchen, spotless and shining, where an old woman laboured mightily with the pen. She was a fat old woman, plain and unromantic and very practical; but the thought of her brought home-sickness sharply to the boy and girl sitting on the green slope of Irish turf.
“She’s an old brick,” said Wally, presently. “By Jove, Nor, won’t it be jolly to go back when all this show is over! It makes one feel sort of jumpy to think of driving up to Billabong again!”
“ ’M,” assented Norah, lucidly. Speech was a little difficult just then. Presently she laughed.
“Australian mail-days are lovely, but they always hurt a bit, too. Never mind, we’ll all go home together some day, and Billabong will go quite mad, and it will be worth having been away. What do we do this morning, Mr. Second-Lieutenant Meadows?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Wally answered. “I think you’d better choose your own amusement, Miss Linton-of-Billabong, and I’ll fall in with it meekly. Jim and your father have shut themselves up with piles of business letters and stock reports and things like that, and can’t come out before lunch.”