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He went home to Mary in high feather.
Mary sat in an armchair, her lap full of envelopes, a closely written sheet of foreign note in her hand. Mahony picked up the several letters bearing his name, and ran his eye over the superscriptions. Their English post-bag was a lean one; but the arrival of the Australian mail more than atoned for it; and the deciphering of the crossed and recrossed pages, the discussing of news from the old home occupied the pair of them for days. Among his pile Mahony found a letter from Chinnery of the London Chartered, another from Archdeacon Long, a third from an old fellow-practitioner; while a bulky envelope promised a full business statement from the agent whom he had left in charge of his affairs. Taking off his greatcoat he sat down to read at his ease.
Stateliness in person, gauzes and laces floating from arms and shoulders, trinkets and chains a-jingle, Lizzie swept through the hall, a majestic figure indeed. No wonder John was still unable to refuse her anything.
The plain English of it is, she was squiffy.
I didnt mean to say anything about it. But it appears the vicar took it very badly, the other Sunday, that you went to hear that London preacher at the Methodist Chapel. I overheard something that was said at the last sewing-party about your perhaps being really a dissenter.
Then its because he drank his tea out of his saucer and things like that.
Marys next letter bore the heading Yarangobilly, and ran:
I wish to God you had! You talk of decency? You need hardly worry, I think, in the case of a person who has so few decent feelings of her own. If you could have heard her! I got er! Up with the gas! Im olding er by er false air! Mahony gave the imitation with extravagant emphasis. I leave it to you to imagine the rest. That voice . . . the scattered aitches . . . the gauche and vulgar manner . . . the medium weeping and protesting . . . your friend parleying and exclaiming at the top of her lungs, too glorying in what she had done as if it was something to be proud of, and blind as a bat to the thunder-glances that were being thrown at her . . . no! I shall never forget it. She has rendered me impossible in a house where till now I have been an honoured guest.
Just fancy, John writes hes been forced to shut up his house and go and live at the Melbourne Club. WHAT a state of things! That lovely house left to go to rack and ruin. It seems the last housekeeper turned out worst of all. She didnt set her cap at him, like Mrs. Perry, but he discovered that she was carrying on improperly with men. To think of a woman like that looking after poor Jinnys children! Now John has put all three to boarding-school. And Josey still the merest baby. How he expects them to thrive, I dont know with never a proper home, or a mothers care. Then, heres Trotty . . . or Emma as he will persist in calling her . . . accused of being idle and flighty. Trotty flighty! If ever there was a dear, good-hearted little soul . . . easy to manage and open as the day. But John still seems to have his old down on Emmas children. And that brings me to some bad news. Johnny has run away. Listen to this. AND NOW I PASS TO THE DOINGS OF MY SON AND HEIR. AFTER KEEPING THE BOY TO HIS DESK UNDER MY OWN EYE FOR THE PAST TWELVE MONTHS, AND ENDEAVOURING BY PRECEPT AND SEVERITY TO MAKE AN HONEST MAN OF HIM IN VAIN, MARY, FOR NEVER A MOMENTS GRATIFICATION OR SATISFACTION HAVE I HAD FROM HIM; NEVER A THANK-YOU HAS HE GIVEN ME FOR ALL THE MONEY SPENT ON HIM HE WAS LAZY, DECEPTIVE, AND FREQUENTED LOOSE COMPANY . . . Richard! At seventeen! . . . NEGLECTED HIS DUTIES, TOOK MORE WINE THAN WAS GOOD FOR HIM, PLAYED CARDS FOR MONEY, AND IN THE END WENT SO FAR AS TO ABSTRACT HIS LOSSES FROM MY PRIVATE DRAWER. Isnt it dreadful? WHEN I TAXED HIM WITH IT, AND THREATENED HIM WITH EXPOSURE, HE AS GOOD AS WHISTLED IN MY FACE; THEN ACTUALLY HAD THE AUDACITY TO ASSERT HE OWED ME NO GRATITUDE, SINCE I HAD NEVER DONE ANYTHING FOR HIM; AND THE NEXT MORNING HE WAS MISSING HIS BED HAD NOT BEEN SLEPT IN. WHEN AFTER THE LAPSE OF SEVERAL WEEKS I CONTRIVED TO TRACK HIM, I LEARNED, TO MY SHAME AND DISGRACE, THAT HE HAD SHIPPED BEFORE THE MAST TO THAT ELDORADO OF THIEVES AND SCOUNDRELS, AMERICA. NOW HE MAY SHIFT FOR HIMSELF; I WASH MY HANDS OF HIM. I HAVE CUT HIM OUT OF MY WILL AND SHALL DO THE SAME BY EMMA, UNLESS SHE MENDS HER WAYS. YOU WILL SCARCELY CREDIT IT, MY DEAR MARY, BUT HER SCHOOLMISTRESS WRITES ME THAT THE GIRL NOT YET FIFTEEN YEARS OF AGE, MARK YOU! HAS HAD TO BE PUBLICLY REBUKED FOR COQUETTING WITH MEMBERS OF THE OTHER SEX IN A PLACE OF WORSHIP. Oh, stuff and nonsense, John! Never will I believe such a thing of Trotty. I know the child a great deal better than you. If I were only there, to find out what it all means He winds up with the usual: THANK GOD, JANES CHILDREN ARE OF ANOTHER DISPOSITION. I AM CONFIDENT I SHALL NEVER BE DISGRACED BY THEM. No, my dear John, they havent the spirit. But . . . well, I never did! and Mary let her hand fall flop on the table. Just listen to this! A postscript I didnt see it before. He says: YOUR SISTER ZARA SEEMS ABOUT TO MAKE A FOOL OF THE FIRST WATER OF HERSELF. SHE IS, I HEAR FOR I HAVE SEEN NOTHING OF HER, I AM THANKFUL TO SAY CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. Richard! And he doesnt even say who to. Isnt that like a man? Can it . . . could it be . . . But there! I believe I saw a letter from Zara herself.
No, what Ned and Polly wanted was money, and money alone. This piece of knowledge was accompanied, however, by so disagreeable a sensation that Mary was thankful Richard was not there to share it. Not only were they ready to take every shilling offered . . . poor things, no one could blame them for that, pinched and straitened as they were . . . it was their manner of accepting that wounded Mary. They pocketed what Richard sent them almost as a matter of course, frankly inspecting the amount, and sometimes even going so far as to wrinkle their noses over it. Which was really hardly fair; for Richard was very generous to them; considering they were no blood relations of his, and he felt they didnt like him. Nor did they: there was no getting away from that; they showed it even to the extent of begrudging him his good luck . . . without which he would have been unable to do anything for them! Poor Neds eye was hot with envy whenever Richards rise in the world was mentioned. While Polly alluded to it with an open sneer.
Till Christmas . . . not a day longer! I was never built for this. And as he said it, his thoughts flew back to a time when the merest hint that his skill was doubted had shaken his roots to their depths. Here, where he had as yet hardly put out a sucker, the wrench was easier, and at the same time a hundredfold more destructive.