‘They were common enough, not only in Britain but throughout the continent of Europe in the Middle Ages,’ explained Reggie; ‘they had to carry bells and give warning as they walked, were forbidden to enter towns and villages, and so on.’
‘How dreadful! What a comfort that we don’t live among such horrors. That was what Nurse Lilburne’s husband was supposed to have been torn away from her and shut up, on that dreadful island, for—only on suspicion too! Where are we now, Eric?’
‘This is Madingley, where the King, as Prince of Wales, lived when he was at Cambridge. Gray’s “Elegy” was written there, it is supposed.’
‘Oh, how delightful! I wonder if they made his Royal Highness learn it by heart, like all of us.
‘The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea, etc.
“Lea” means “meadow” in English, doesn’t it? “River flat” in early Australian, like “mob” for “drove,” “paddock” for “field,” “rise” for “hill,” and so on.
All necessary arrangements had been carefully made long before the great day—the Carnival of the Thames. What hopes and expectations [265] ]had been careering through the minds of the young people during the preceding period! Visions of a lovely spring day, when the riverside region would be glorified with budding willow, oak and elm, lime and chestnut; where the nightingales at eve would sing a pæan for the victors—Cambridge, of course; for were there not two Australians in their boat—the Banneret boat? a circumstance unique in the University river-history. Then, again, depression, deepening to despair, as the weather prophets and the cloudy skies foretold evil,—a drizzle, if not a downpour. In such case what was to become of the lovely boating suits, the hats, the dresses, the parasols, bewitching, irresistible?—soaked, muddied, limp. The girls dismal and unattractive; the boys—the men—wretched and cross—or worse, reckless and disgusted. The picture was intolerable.
‘I shall drown myself,’ said Vanda—when for the twentieth time the subject was discussed at breakfast—‘I know I shall, if our boat doesn’t win, and be fished up from the oozy Thames by some “waterside character,” or jump overboard in the intoxication of victory. Either way I shall hardly survive the event—I——’
‘Here comes mother!’ interposed Hermione, who, naturally, as became the elder sister, was less impulsive and demonstrative; ‘perhaps she will think it better that you should stay at home, rather than display the Bride from the Bush characteristics before an English audience.’
‘Oh, that hateful novel! Thanks, sister dear! You have hit upon the true corrective. I promise [266] ]to be “splendidly, icily null,” rather than give myself away to the sneering English of the period. Oh, mother, do you think it will rain? Whatever shall we do?’