[452]
]CHAPTER XX
. . . . . . . . .
Again the train, the monotonous stretches of level waste, unbroken save here and there by straggling villages, or prosperous farm-holdings; rich and populous goldfields, or, as occasionally happened, ill-fated and deserted mines, with melancholy machinery, all rusted and abandoned. On these and other landmarks was writ large the tale of hope and enterprise, success, decay, despair. All were heedfully observed and noted by the younger traveller; as regularly explained and classified by the less impulsive senior. Then darkness, a cooler atmosphere, lights, sea strand, city and hotel—goal of the weary traveller!
. . . . . . . . .
England again! Hexham Hall. Again the aged woods, the peerless turf, the murmuring brook, the delicious, settled comfort of English country life. Then such rides and drives, such traps and drags, broughams and landaus!—all the component parts of fully appointed coach-houses and stables, where expense was not too closely regarded; such, and all other matters of [453] ]comparative luxury, seemed to be forthcoming with a sort of Arabian Nights profusion.
Then, to crown all, they had left West Australia in its autumnal month of March, and were here in April.
Oh, to be in England, now that April’s here!
sang Browning from Italy, and it seemed as if every thrush and blackbird in Hexham woods had echoed the aspiration. It was a season of hope and joy, if ever such a halcyon time occurred on this occasionally untoward-seeming planet. Mrs. Banneret was serenely, though secretly, exultant, because her husband and first-born had safely returned, having successfully carried out the object of their mission. Hermione and Vanda, passionately fond of their brothers, and much petted by their father, were charmed with the state of matters generally, and looked forward to even more important developments when Lord and Lady Hexham, with ‘darling Corisande,’ after which fashion that young lady was generally alluded to, should arrive in a week’s time. Eric had taken his degree creditably at Cambridge, if not brilliantly. If he had not won the triumph of a ‘double first’ like Reggie, he had done enough for honour.
There were, of course, the hunting fixtures to be arranged for. The Hexham stud was in great form and buckle. The Banneret girls, who had ridden all sorts of horses over all sorts of fences and roads since earliest childhood, were finished performers across country. Truth to tell, unless they came to grief through ‘trappy’ hedge and [454] ]ditch obstacles, there was no danger of their being stopped by English fences after the stiff posts and rails of their native land. They looked forward to glorious performances when Reggie would be able to escort them.
‘Don’t expect too much, my good Vanda,’ said Hermione; ‘he’ll be too nervous about Corisande’s getting hurt, to trouble about you and me. A fiancée counts for ever so much more than the dearest sisters.’