"She likes coming here because she has fallen badly in love with you and Garth," he said. "But she's a good sort, and I'm grateful for all she has taught me. Do you know, I think she tries to imitate you. She looks cleaner, somehow—and I'll swear she brushes that queer short mop of hers more than she used."
"I know she does," Aileen said. "I've seen a difference ever since I told her casually that I gave mine at least a hundred strokes with the brush every night. And she has a tub regularly—she told Garth so—and I know she scrubs her hands. But her terrible clothes don't give her a chance; and, of course, she spends nearly all her spare time on the children."
"She's a queer mixture," Tom said.
"Isn't she? She has mothered those babies, kept house, cooked and washed, cut scrub, fenced and drained paddocks, put in crops, and broken in horses; and she can hardly sew on a button—decently, I mean; she 'clamps 'em on,' she says; she has never made a pudding or a cake, never been to Church, and never ten miles from her home. She told me all the religion she had. 'Mother learnt me to say prayers, so I says 'em; and I learnt the kids. Father, he don't care. The kids goes to school, so they picked up more'n me; but I keep 'em up to the mark. Mother said you say prayers to God, so that's how I know He's there, an' that's all there is about it—there'd have to be Some One somewhere, wouldn't there—no get-out of that!"
"Poor little soul! Well, she's straight enough, whatever her religion may be, and she's bringing up those kids uncommonly well," Tom said. "A man was telling me that young Bill stole some apples, and told a lie about it; 'Possum found it out, and dragged him five miles to the owner of the fruit to own up and ask for a thrashing! Said she couldn't look their mother in the face if they grew up liars and thieves. I believe young Bill has been extremely reliable since!"
"It's like her," Aileen said.
"The same man told me that she can swim like a fish, and handle a boat as well as any fisherman on the lakes. Her father used to own part of a fishing-boat, and she has been out with him on the wildest nights. Yes, you'd certainly call our 'Possum a young lady of mixed accomplishments. But I suppose one would find a good many like her, if one went hunting in the Bush districts. She's just what her upbringing has made her."
"I don't think you'd find many with 'Possum's straight, clean soul," Aileen said slowly. She went to the doorway, and stood looking out across the paddocks to the blue glimpse of the lake, where 'Possum, had she known it, was at the moment fighting one of the toughest battles of her life.
It was at breakfast that morning that Nick O'Connor had announced his intention of taking his small sailing-boat and crossing Lake King to a settler's farm on the farther shore. There were pigs to be looked at: if he approved of them he might even bring a couple home in the boat. Therefore he would need help.
"Suppose you can come, 'Poss?" he said.