Chapter Twenty Three.
A Bundle of Letters.
Miles Trevor to his Mother.
Dearest Mater,—A merry Christmas to you all! I can hardly believe it is nearly four years since I said good-bye and came out here, though there are times, when I am down on my luck, when it seems more like a hundred. One doesn’t have much time for moping during the day, but the evenings are the trying times, when one wonders what on earth made him such an idiot as to leave the dear old country. In saner moments I’m precious glad I did, for I shouldn’t have had half the chance of getting on at home. The manager went off for a holiday last week and left me in charge, and I’m thankful to say all has gone well. It was my chance of showing what I could do, and I was determined to make the most of it. All the same, I am sorry at times that I did not go in for mining, as I once thought of doing, you remember. My chum Gerard is going ahead at a great rate. He came out here without a penny, and has simply worked his way through the different processes in the big Aladdin Mine with which we are connected. He took the most profitable stages first, and when he had saved up a little money went in for the ones which paid least, until he had a real practical working knowledge of everything from start to finish. Of course he had had no training at home, or this would not have been necessary, but as he is a beggar to work, and a genius at making other people work too, he has risen to the post of sub-manager, and as soon as he has saved enough money is going prospecting on his own account. He has promised me a share in his gold-mine when it is discovered, and you may trust Gerard to find one if it is in existence, so you may see us home together some fine day to float our company.
The sooner it comes the better, or everything and everyone will be changed out of knowledge! It is beyond my imaginative powers to think of Jill as a young lady with her hair up, and Jack at Oxford, and Betty “an old maid.” (There’s not much of the old maid about that photograph she sent out last mail!) All the fellows admire it tremendously, and it gives quite an air of beauty and fashion to my little cabin. I never thought Betty would turn out so pretty, but there’s no denying that she looks a lot older. Tell Pam not to grow up if she loves me! I want to find someone the same as when I left!
Glad to hear the General and Mrs Digby are still happy and satisfied with each other, and that pretty Mrs, Vanburgh’s little boy is all right again. Remember me to them, and to Cynthia Alliot when you see her. Is she well? You have not mentioned her lately.
Many thanks to father for the papers; you can hardly imagine how welcome they are out here, or how eagerly one looks forward to mail days. Tell that lazy Jill to write to a fellow now and then. She shall have no nuggets out of my El Dorado if she doesn’t. Yes, I’m all right! Don’t worry about me, dear. I had a bit of a breakdown a month or two ago, but Gerard nursed me almost as well as you could have done yourself. He is the best chum a man could have. Love to everybody, and most of all to yourself, dearest mater.—From your son, Miles.
Betty Trevor to her Brother Miles.