Mates at Billabong

by Mary Grant Bruce

"Turned up like a bad penny, sir," said Wally, having his hand pumped in turn. "Hope you'll forgive me—it's pretty cool to arrive without an invitation."

"As far as I know, you had invitations from all the family," said Mr. Linton, laughing. "We regard you as one of the oldest inhabitants now, you know. At any rate, I'm delighted to see you; the mistress of Billabong must answer for herself, but she doesn't look cast down!"

"She's been fairly polite," Wally said. "On the whole I don't feel as shy as I was afraid of feeling! I was horribly scared of having Christmas with my aunt—but she's chosen measles instead, so I expect she was just as scared as I was!"

"It's probable," said his host, laughing.

"You haven't grown up a bit, Wally, and it's such a comfort!" Norah said.

"I'm getting old and reverend," said Wally severely, "and it's up to you to treat me with respect, young Norah. Sixteen's an awful age to support with any cheerfulness." His brown face at the moment gave the impression of never having been serious during the sixteen years he lamented. "As for this ancient mariner"—indicating Jim—"you can see the signs of senile decay quite plainly!"

"Ass!" said Jim affectionately. He broke off. "How are you, Cecil?"

Cecil, coming out of the hotel, a dapper figure beside the two tall schoolboys, gave languid greetings. He cast at Jim a glance of something like envy. Height was the one thing he longed for, and it seemed to him hard that this seventeen-year-old youngster should be rapidly approaching six feet, while he, three years older, had stopped short six inches under that measurement. However, generally speaking, Cecil was uncommonly well satisfied with himself, and not even the contemplation of Jim's superior inches could worry him for long. He asked polite questions about the journey, and laughed at the freely expressed opinion that the day was hot "You should go to Sydney if you want to know what heat is," he said, with the superiority of the travelled man; "Victoria really has no heat to talk about!"

"Well, I'm a Queenslander," said Wally bluntly, "and we're supposed to know about heat there. And I do think to-day is beastly hot—look at my collar, it's like a concertina! Sydney heat is hot, and Brisbane heat is hotter, but Victorian heat has a hotness all of its own!" Whereat everybody laughed, and the discussion was adjourned for lunch.

It was a merry meal; and if the fare was no better than that of most township hotels, the spirits of the party were too high to trouble about such trifles as tough meat, watery puddings, and weary butter that bore out Wally's remarks about the heat by threatening to float away on a sea of its own oil. Everything was rose colour in Norah's estimation that day. She sat by Jim and beamed across the table at her father and Wally. Even Cecil found himself at times included in the beam, and took it meekly, for the happy face was infectious, while the frank delight of the boys in having her with them again was to a certain extent educational to the outsider. There was no lack of manliness in Jim's strong, handsome face. If he found it worth his while, Cecil reflected, to make such a fuss over a child, it might be possible that she was not altogether a person to be snubbed. So he was unusually affable to his small cousin, and lunch passed off very successfully.