‘Permit me to make myself known as Henry O’Desmond, one of your neighbours, my dear madam,’ said he, with the high-bred air of a man of the world of fashion, who possesses also the advantage of being an Irishman. ‘I presume I am addressing Mrs. Effingham. I have anticipated the proper time for paying my respects; but there has been a matter of business named by my agent, in which I hope to be able to serve Captain Effingham. He is quite well, I trust?’
Mrs. Effingham explained that her husband had been perfectly well that morning; furthermore, if Mr. O’Desmond would give them the pleasure of his company to lunch, he would be enabled to make his acquaintance.
That gentleman bowed with an air of heartfelt gratitude, and asserted that it would give him the sincerest gratification to have such an opportunity of meeting Captain Effingham, to which he had looked forward, since hearing of the good fortune that was about to befall the district, from his respected friend the Rev. Mr. Sternworth.
Being introduced to the young ladies, Mr. O’Desmond, a handsome, well-preserved man, promptly demonstrated that he was capable of entertaining himself and them until his host should think fit to arrive. Indeed, when Mrs. Effingham, who had left the room for reasons connected with the repast, returned, having captured her husband, and superintended his toilet, she found her daughters and their guest considerably advanced in acquaintance.
‘Oh, papa,’ said Annabel, ‘Mr. O’Desmond says there’s such a lovely view about ten miles from here—a ravine full of ferns, actually full of them; and a waterfall—a real one! It is called Fern-tree Gorge; and he has invited us all to a picnic there some day.’
‘Very happy to make Mr. O’Desmond’s acquaintance,’ said Effingham, advancing with a recollection of old days strong upon him. ‘We are hardly aware yet in what consists the proper proportion of work and play in Australia; and in how much of the latter struggling colonists can indulge. We shall be very grateful for information on the subject.’
‘And right welcome you are, my dear sir, to both, especially to the latter. They’ll tell you that Harry O’Desmond is not unacquainted with work during the twenty years he has spent in this wild country. But for fun and recreation he’ll turn his back on no man living.’
‘Here is my lieutenant, and eldest son; permit me to introduce him. He is burning to distinguish himself in the practical line.’
‘Then he couldn’t have a better drill instructor than my old acquaintance, Dick Evans—wonderfully clever in all bush work, and scrupulous after his own fashion. But, see here now, I came partly to talk about cows, till the young ladies put business clean out of my head. I’m told you want to buy cattle, Mr. Wilfred; if you’ll mount your horse and take old Dick with you to-morrow morning, he’ll show you the way to Badajos, and I’ll pick you the best hundred cows this day in the country.’
This was held to be an excellent arrangement, and lunch being now proclaimed, a temporary cessation of all but society talk took place. Every one being in the highest spirits, it was quite a brilliant symposium. It was a novel luxury to be again in the society of a pleasant stranger, well read, travelled, and constitutionally agreeable. O’Desmond sketched with humour and spirit the characteristic points of their nearest neighbours; slightly satirised the local celebrities in their chief town of Yass; and finally departed, having earned for himself the reputation of an agreeable, well-bred personage; a perfect miracle of a neighbour, when ill-hap might have made him equally near and unchangeably disagreeable.