Of course nothing would content Antonia short of meeting at the station and carrying off to Morahmee, bag and baggage, this inestimable cousin, who had behaved so honourably, so perfectly.
Any other woman, with the mildest average of good looks, shut up in such a raft of a place as Rainbar metaphorically was, would have carried off Ernest, or any man of his age, easily and triumphantly. All the pleasant freedom of a cousin, all the provocation of a possible, unforbidden bride, the magic of old memories, the bond of perfect social equality as to rank and habitudes,—what stupendous advantages! And yet she was so happily and delightfully constituted by nature that, in spite of dangerous proximity and all other advantages, she was, it was plain from his letter, the very last woman in the world whom he could have thought of marrying. O most excellent Augusta!
Paul, of course, after a show of deep consideration, came to the conclusion that Antonia’s plan was the kindest, wisest, ‘onliest’ thing, under the circumstances. ‘Take her home straight from the train. Bother Petty’s—what’s the use of her moping there, and spending her money? I don’t think another girl for you to have a few talks with, and drives, and shopping, and Botanical Gardens, and Dorcas work together, could do you any harm, pet. So have her home quietly to-night. We must have a little dinner for her.’
Accordingly, when the punctual train arrived bearing Miss Neuchamp and her fortunes, she was astonished to hear Mr. Middleton exclaim, ‘Why, there is Miss Frankston come to meet us! How do you do, Antonia, my dear? Allow me to make known Miss Neuchamp; probably you are already acquainted with one another by description.’
Miss Neuchamp’s expectations can only be a matter of conjecture, but she was unaffectedly surprised at the apparition of this distinguished-looking girl, perfectly dressed and appointed, who stood on the platform, flanked by a liveried servant of London solidity of form and severe respectability of manner.
‘Very, very happy to welcome you to Sydney, Miss Neuchamp,’ said Antonia. ‘Papa and I were so disappointed that we did not know of your address before you left for the bush. He won’t hear of your going anywhere but to our house for the present. And, Mr. Middleton, I am pledged to bring you, as papa says we young ladies will be wrapped up in each other and leave him in solitude. I can command you, I know. Pray say you’ll come, Miss Neuchamp.’
‘If I may add my persuasion,’ said Mr. Middleton, ‘I could tell Miss Neuchamp that she could not act more discreetly for the present. I shall be delighted to wash all the dust out of my throat with some of your father’s claret, Antonia. I’m your humble admirer, you know, when I’m away from home.’
‘I shall be very happy to accept your hospitality, so kindly offered, for the present,’ said Augusta, overpowered by briskness of attack and defection of allies.
The grave servant immediately addressed himself to the luggage and, handing the strange lady’s nearest and dearest light weights into the carriage, remained behind to deposit one of Mr. Middleton’s portmanteaus at the club, and to convey the remaining impedimenta to Morahmee per cab. As Miss Neuchamp ensconced herself in the yielding, ample cushions of the Morahmee carriage beside Antonia, and was borne along at a rapid pace, the mere rattling of the wheels upon the macadamised road was grateful and refreshing to her soul, as a reminiscence of the unquestioned proper and utterly befitting, from which she had hitherto considered herself to be hopelessly sundered by the whole breadth of ocean.