"With the Balestrier children all over the place!" said Philip. "If I can’t bring up my children to behave better, I’ll eat my hat".
"How is the charming little Augusta?" asked Wilmott.
"Being utterly spoilt by Mrs. Vaughan", answered Philip. "However, she is forgetting French and learning to speak English".
"Tell her I shall bring her a present. A doll-to take the place of the one stolen on board ship. Does she still miss her ayah?"
"No. She has forgotten her".
There was a moment’s silence as their minds flew back to the funeral at sea. Then Wilmott said:
"The mosquitoes are a pest here. I suffer tortures at night from the itching of old bites and the hideous buzzing as new bites are inflicted".
"I am writing home", said Philip, "for mosquito netting. We shall cover our beds with it when our house is built. The Vaughans seem quite reconciled to being eaten alive".
"As a matter of fact", said Adeline, "the mosquitoes pass by the Vaughans to feast on Philip".
Philip produced the flask of wine. "We have only one drinking-cup", he remarked. "I was going to give it to Adeline and myself drink from the flask. But she and I can use the one cup".
"Give me the tin mug", said Wilmott.
"Wherever did you find it, Philip?"
"By the spring. And there were footprints about. Vaughan tells me that there is a log hut on the property and that an old Scotsman, called Fiddling Jock, has taken up his abode there. Vaughan says he’s harmless".
"How large is the hut?" asked Wilmott. "I might have lived there".
Philip opened his eyes till they were a little prominent. "What about land?" he asked.
"True", returned Wilmott. "I must have land".
"Couldn’t we sell him fifty acres?" asked Adeline in a stage aside.
"Out of the heart of the property? Never".
"Oh, I am quite satisfied with the place I have chosen. I shall live on berries and fish and wild-fowl and read all the books I have been wanting to read".
"Where will you get them?"
"I have brought them with me".
The Whiteoaks stared. "I knew you had brought some books", said Adeline, "for you lent me several, but I didn’t know you had enough to keep you going".
"There is quite a respectable library in the town. Also D’Arcy is picking up some in New York. Quite rare ones but worth the price".
For the hundredth time the Whiteoaks wondered about Wilmott’s financial status. At times he talked quite largely, at others as though he were a pauper. Now he asked:
"What of the neighbourhood? Are there any interesting or intelligent people?"
"A good many", said Philip. "David Vaughan to begin with. He and his wife gave a dinner-party for us the other evening and we met the neighbours. A quite respectable and well-informed circle. There is a Mr. Lacey who has a son in the Navy; Mr. Pink, the clergyman; Dr. Ramsay, a rather cantankerous fellow but a man of character and, I believe, very capable; and half a dozen other families. We discussed the future of the province. Their sincere hope is to keep it free of foreigners. They want to build up the population slowly but solidly out of sturdy British material. They want both freedom and integrity in the land. And I’ve pledged myself to this project. Vaughan contends that the United States is going to pay bitterly for opening its gates to old Europe. Well, after all, these people from Eastern and Southern Europe would as soon as not stick a knife into your back. Their religion is superstition. They’d do you in for a few pounds. Torture and cruelty are in their blood. I’ve lived a good many years in India and I’ve seen enough of treachery. Let’s go slow and sure. Let’s keep British".
"And Irish", added Adeline.
"I’m with you", said Wilmott. "Here’s to the building of your house and this province!" He raised the tin mug.
When they had drunk the toast Philip produced a leather cigar-case and offered a cigar to Wilmott.
"This will keep off the mosquitoes".
"Thanks. I haven’t smoked a cigar since the last one you gave me".
Philip and Adeline were embarrassed. Wilmott was using his poverty-stricken tone. Perhaps he was conscious of this, for he added as he took the tip off his cigar:
"I’m no smoker".
"Well, I am", said Philip, "and I can tell you that it irritates me not to be allowed to smoke in the house. Mrs. Vaughan won’t have it".
"Doesn’t he smoke?"
"He has a pipe on the verandah after breakfast and at bedtime".
Wilmott stared about him, with a look both reflective and wondering. He said, "I suppose these forests go on and on, right to the Arctic".
"Yes. It gives one-a feeling".
"For the grandeur of it, you mean?"
"Yes. And the stability. There ought to be enough timber for all time".
"Not if the people go on hacking it down and burning it-just to get rid of it".
Adeline rose and shook out her skirt. She said, "I want to walk about".
"I’ll stay here", said Wilmott. "You two go. I shall smoke and conjure up a suitable name for your house".
"He’s too damned officious", said Philip, when they were alone. "He’s planned our house to his satisfaction. Now he’s going to name it. Whatever name he chooses I’ll not have it!"
"Oh, Phil, don’t be silly!" She gave a skip of joy. She held up her heavy skirt and petticoat and danced across the flowery grass.
"Here will be our kitchen", she chanted, "with a big, big fireplace and a brick floor! Here will be the pantries and the larder! Here the servants’ quarters. A nice wee room for Patsy O’Flynn!"
Tucking up his coat-tails and placing his hands on his hips, Philip danced to meet her.
"Here, Madam, is my wine-cellar!" he declared, "well stocked, maturing at leisure!"
She clasped him in her arms and laid her face against his shoulder.
"Let’s live to be old-old", she said. "So we may enjoy it-together-for years and years and years".
"I promise".
"And you must promise to let me die first".
"Very well, dear. I promise".
"What shall we name the place? If we don’t do it soon, it’s just as you say, Wilmott will do it for us".
"I should like a name that has associations for me at home".
"But I don’t want an English name".
He stared, a little truculently.
"I should like", she said, "a name which has associations for me. What about Bally-"
He interrupted her. "I’m dashed if I can stomach an Irish name".
She glared at him.
Wilmott’s tall figure was approaching. He was almost on the run. "I have it!" he cried.
"Have what?" asked Philip.
"A name for your place".
They looked at him defensively.
"The name of your military station in India", he went on. "You met there. You were married there. You will probably never be quite as happy again as you were then. It is a pretty name. It is striking. It is easy to remember. It is-"
"Jalna", said Adeline musingly.
"No", said Philip. He looked defiantly at Wilmott.
"Don’t you like the name?"
"I like it well enough".
"Do you like it, Mrs. Whiteoak?" Wilmott looked eagerly into Adeline’s eyes. The pupils were reflecting the green of the forest. They looked mysterious.
"You took the word out of my mouth", she said. "I was thinking-Jalna-Jalna-as hard as I could-when you called out".
Philip’s face lighted. "Were you really? I confess that I like it-now I hear you say it. Jalna… yes, it’s pretty good. It’s a souvenir of my regiment. A seal on the past".
"And a good omen for the future", she added. "I’m glad I thought of it".
Wilmott stood irresolute.
"It’s a damned good name", said Philip. "It’s extraordinary you should think of it just before Wilmott did".