We had dinner in the middle of the day and I spent most of the morning in the kitchen with Adelaide. We cooked the chickens while the plum pudding steamed away in a saucepan; the heat was great. I went outside to get a breath of fresh air, but it was as hot outside as in the kitchen. I stood for a moment looking at the flowering gums and reminding myself that this time last year I was at Danesworth House growing more and more anxious because I had not heard from my father.
A great deal had happened in a short time.
Adelaide came out and said, “The passion fruit is ready for picking.
Should I pick now? ” She answered herself.
“No. It would spoil the illusion and wouldn’t be a bit like Christmas at home.”
It was a big party for Christmas. Lynx sat at the head of the table and I retained my seat on his left hand, Stirling opposite as we had sat since the first night. Several men from the property and the mine were there. Jack Bell was busy at the hotel so he did not join us. I had avoided looking at Jacob Jagger since the Mary incident. If he had been in love with her and she with him I should have felt differently.
I kept thinking of Mary’s description of being ‘cornered’. I knew that he constantly looked my way, that he was always endeavouring to make me speak or smile at him. This I refused to do. The man disgusted me.
One day I would speak to Stirling about him. Across the table my eyes met those of Stirling, and he smiled at me with such pleasure that I glowed with happiness.
It was a pleasant meal. Lynx was in a benevolent mood; it was clear that he enjoyed presiding over his table, which might have been in an English country house. Mary brought in the Christmas pudding and brandy was poured over it before it was set alight. It tasted good.
We were drowsing over our port when there was a commotion in the kitchen followed by the sound of raised voices and someone crying:
“Let me see him. Or let me see Miss Adelaide.”
Adelaide had turned white; she rose and went out. In a short time she returned. Lynx said: “What is it?”
“It’s the Lambs,” replied Adelaide.
“They’ve come back.”
.
“They want to come back into the house.”
“They want to come back! I thought they went after gold.
“They did … but they’re back.”
“Without the fortune they were going to make?”
“They’re in a pitiable state,” said Adelaide.
“I won’t have them back,” retorted Lynx coldly.
I tried to catch his eye but he was not looking at me.
“Perhaps …” began Adelaide.
“Tell them to go. I don’t take people back into this house once they have run away.”
Adelaide turned. I rose in my chair.
“They might be hungry,” I said.
Lynx’s steely gaze was on me.
“They went to make a fortune. It’s no business of mine if they failed. When they left this house they left it for ever.”
Adelaide went out and I sat down dumbly. The joy of Christmas had gone for me.
When Stirling and I rode out next day I was still thinking of the Lambs.
“It was so cruel,” I said.
“And on Christmas Day.”
Stirling could never bear any criticism of his father.
“The day makes no difference.”
“No,” I agreed.
“It would have been cruel on any day, but on Christmas Day it is worse because it makes nonsense of all Christmas means.”
“We can’t allow people to run off when they want to and then come back and expect us to kill the fatted calf.”
“Perhaps not, but they could have been given some food and help.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if Adelaide did.”
“But he wouldn’t help them. He’s a very hard man.”
“He knows what he’s doing. He has to show these people that they can’t walk off to look for gold one day and come back the next when they’ve failed to find it.”
Stirling’s jaw was obstinately set. I realized in that moment that I was jealous of his love for his father. It would always be Lynx who came first with him.
We argued the point during our ride and we finally quarrelled when I said he hadn’t a mind of his own and readily accepted everything Papa told him. He retorted that I was a self-opinionated schoolmarm who thought that because I had once taught little girls of five I could teach my elders . yes, and betters.
I galloped on ahead of him, hurt and angry, because I was beginning to build up a picture of being with Stirling for ever, marrying him and having Lynx for a father-in-law. I was not sure whether I wanted the latter or not. I wished that there were no Lynx and that Stirling’s father had been an ordinary sort of man. And then I thought: No, I wouldn’t like that. I could not imagine the place without Lynx. My growing relationship with him excited me. I was exultant because he was not indifferent to me. I wanted him to be interested in me, to listen to me, to respect me and to grow fond of me. I wanted to be important to him. But I wanted to be more important to Stirling than anyone else in the world and while Lynx existed I felt that never would be.
The next day Stirling behaved as though there had been no quarrel between us. He was treating me as though I were his sister. I did not want this but I felt happily secure because our relationship was one which would strengthen as it grew and I was certain that in due course I would be as necessary to him as he was to me.
The Lambs were never mentioned again. I liked to think that Adelaide had helped them and I felt sure she had. Mary was happy again and growing noticeably larger. I saw Jemmy often in the stables; he had developed an assurance which must always have been not far from the surface. I often heard him whistling at his work and I felt so happy because we had been able to help him. Therefore I was surprised when one day in early February Jemmy was reported missing.
It was the same story. He had confided in one of the stable boys that he was going off to find gold.
When Lynx heard, he laughed.
“That’s another of them,” he said.
“Don’t take him back when he’s had enough of the gold fields.”
He asked me that night to have a game of chess with him after dinner.
We did not play immediately, though, and I believed that he wanted to taunt me about Jemmy, for Stirling had since told him how eager I had been to help the boy when we had found him on the ship.
“It doesn’t do to play the ministering angel, Nora,” he said.
“Come, you are going to drink a glass of port with me.” He filled the glasses.
“You see how your Jemmy has turned out.”
“Surely you can understand the desire to find gold?”
“I understand it. I have experienced it.”
“Then why are you so hard on others?”
“I’m not concerned with others—only with myself.”
“You condemn these people because they go off to look for gold.”
“You are mistaken. All I say is that I will not have them back when they fail. I will not have my servants walking off when the whim takes them. They are free to walk off, it’s true, but not to come back.”
“The Lambs …”
“Ah, you hated me then, didn’t you?”
“I thought you were very hard and on Christmas Day too!”
“My dear, sentimental Nora, the day has nothing to do with it.”
“So Stirling said.”
“You have thrashed the matter out with him?”
“I have discussed it with him.”
“And attacked me furiously.”
“Yes, but he defended you.”
He smiled. Then he said, “Nora, life is hard, you know, and it is no use being soft in a hard world. You are too sentimental, too emotional. You will be hurt one day.”