Doris Foster was quite as interested as her father in the probable result of the tour. Although Will Brown had not returned from Australia with enough wealth to warrant him in setting up an establishment of his own, Doris thought she would not be risking much in accepting him as her lover. With Robert Foster’s sanction they became engaged, and the family circle at Elm Lodge increased.
Ben Brody came to Elm Lodge, and soon made himself at home. Robert Foster discovered that men of Brody’s stamp are to be trusted, and although he might have been out of place amidst the sham and humbug of a society drawing-room, Ben Brody was in his element at Elm Lodge.
His quaint remarks caused roars of laughter, and he drew some amusing pictures of station life in which Edgar and Will Brown were conspicuous figures.
‘I’ll tell you what it is,’ he said to Edgar one day as they sat on the lawn enjoying the fragrant weed, ‘this beats Yanda hollow. What a trump your dad is! Talk about colonial hospitality, it is a mere trifle to the way in which I have been treated here. I have lived on the fat of the land, while those poor beggars at Yanda have been stifling their ill-feelings with the usual mutton. Then there’s your sister—but she ought to have a whole vocabulary to herself and not be mixed up with such matters. Will Brown’s a lucky fellow, and so for the matter of that are you. Girls like Miss Muriel Wylde are not found every day. I wonder if you will ever return to Australia.’
‘That remains to be seen,’ said Edgar. ‘After the tour will be time enough to think about that.’
The opening match of the tour was played at Sheffield Park against Lord Sheffield’s eleven. Ever ready to assist in promoting honest manly games, H.R.H. the Prince of Wales honoured them with his presence. Will Murch was introduced to his Royal Highness, and was naturally much elated. The match resulted in a win for the Australians, but Edgar did not ‘come off’ on this occasion.
As the weeks rolled by and the tour progressed, it was easy to see the Australian eleven was a fine team. So far they had only been twice beaten—once by an M.C.C. eleven, and in the first match against England.
Their second struggle with the cracks of the home team had resulted in a win for the Australians. Edgar played well in these matches, but had done nothing particularly wonderful. Against several of the county elevens he had made good scores. He astonished W. G. at Gloucester by the way he knocked the champion’s bowling about, and the hero of a hundred fights warmly congratulated him on his performance.
‘I always thought W. G. was a jealous man,’ said Edgar.
‘Not a bit of it,’ said Robert Foster. ‘He’s one of the first to recognise merit in a cricketer. I’ll tell you what he is jealous about.’