“I was just a-goin' to ring the big bell,” said Mrs. Brown.  
She was standing¹ on the front verandah as the children came up the lawn.
 
“Why, we're not late, Brownie, are we?” asked Norah.
 
“Not very.” The old housekeeper² smiled at her. “Only when your Pa's away I allers feels a bit nervis about you—sech thoughtless young people, an' all them animals and snakes about!”
 
“Gammon!” said Jim laughing. “D'you mean to say I can't look after them, Brownie?”
 
“I'd rather not say anythink rash, Master Jim,” rejoined Mrs. Brown with a twinkle.
 
“I guess Mrs. Brown's got the measure of your foot, old man,” grinned Harry³.
 
“Oh, well,” said Jim resignedly, “a chap never gets his due in this world. I forgive you, Brownie, though you don't deserve it. Got a nice tea for us?”
 
“Sech as it is, Master Jim, it's waitin' on you,” said Mrs. Brown, with point.
 
“That's what you might call a broad hint,” cried Jim. “Come on, chaps—race you for a wash-up!”
 
They scattered⁴, Mrs. Brown laying violent hands on the indignant Norah, and insisting on arraying her in a clean frock, which the victim resisted, as totally unnecessary. Mrs. Brown carried her point, however, and a trim little maiden⁵ joined the boys in the dining-room five minutes later.
 
Mrs. Brown's cooking was notable, and she had excelled herself over the boys' farewell tea. A big cold turkey sat side by side with a ham of majestic⁶ dimensions, while the cool green of a salad was tempting⁷ after the hot walk. There were jellies, and a big bowl of fruit salad, while the centre of the table was occupied by a tall cake, raising aloft glittering white tiers. There were scones⁹ and tarts¹⁰ and wee cakes, and dishes of fresh fruit, and altogether the boys whistled long and softly, and declared that “Brownie was no end of a brick!”
 
Whereat Mrs. Brown, hovering¹¹ about to see that her charges wanted nothing, smiled and blushed, and said, “Get on, now, do!”
 
Jim carved, and Jim's carving¹² was something to marvel¹³ at. No method came amiss to him. When he could cut straight he did; at other times he sawed; and, when it seemed necessary, he dug. After he had finished helping¹⁴ every one, Wally said that the turkey looked as if a dog had been at it, and the ham was worse, which remarks Jim meekly¹⁵ accepted as his due. Nor did the inartistic appearance of the turkey prevent the critic from coming back for more!
 
Everyone was hungry, and did full justice to “Brownie's” forethought; while Norah, behind the tall teapot, declared that it was a job for two men and a boy to pour out for such a thirsty trio. Harry helped the fruit salad, and Harry's helpings¹⁶ were based on his own hunger, and would have suited Goliath. Finally, Norah cut the cake with great ceremony, and Wally's proposal that everyone should retire to the lawn with a “chunk” was carried unanimously.
 
Out on the grass they lay and chattered¹⁷, while the dusk came down, and slowly a pale moon climbed up into the sky. Norah alone was silent. After a while Harry and Wally declared they must go and pack, and Jim and his sister were left alone.
 
Wally and Harry scurried¹⁸ down the hail. The sound of their merry voices died away, and there was silence on the lawn.
 
Jim rolled nearer to Norah.
 
“Blue, old girl?”
 
“'M,” said a muffled¹⁹ voice.
 
Jim felt for her hand in the darkness—and found it. The small, brown fingers closed tightly round his rough paw.
 
“I know,” he said comprehendingly. “I'm awfully²⁰ sorry, old woman. I do wish we hadn't to go.”
 
There was no answer. Jim knew why—and also knowing perfectly²¹ well that tears would mean the deepest shame, he talked on without requiring any response.
 
“Beastly hard luck,” he said. “We don't want to go a bit—fancy school after this! Ugh! But there are three of us, so it isn't so bad. It wouldn't matter if Dad was at home, for you. But I must say it's lowdown to be leaving you all by your lonely little self.”
 
Norah struggled hard with that abominable²² lump in her throat, despising herself heartily²³.
 
“Brownie'll be awfully good to you,” went on Jim. “You'll have to buck²⁴ up, you know, old girl, and not let yourself get dull. You practise like one o'clock; or make jam, or something; or get Brownie to let you do some cooking. Anything to keep you 'from broodin' on bein' a dorg,' as old David Harum says. There's all the pets to look after, you know—you've got to keep young black Billy up to the mark, or he'll never feed 'em properly, and if you let him alone he changes the water in the dishes when the last lot's dry. And, by George, Norah”—Jim had a bright idea—“Dad told me last night he meant to shift those new bullocks into the Long Plain. Ten to one he forgot all about it, going away so suddenly. You'll have to see to it.”
 
“I'd like that,” said Norah, feeling doubtfully for her voice.
 
“Rather—best thing you can do,” Jim said eagerly. “Take Billy with you, of course, and a dog. They're not wild, and I don't think you'll have any trouble—only be very careful to get 'em all—examine all the scrub in the paddock. Billy knows how many there ought to be. I did know, but, of course, I've forgotten. Of course Dad may have left directions with one of the men about it already.”
 
“Well, I could go too, couldn't I?” queried²⁵ Norah.
 
“Rather. They'd be glad to have you.”
 
“Well, I'll be glad of something to do. I wasn't looking forward to to-morrow.”
 
“No,” said Jim, “I know you weren't. Never mind, you keep busy. You might drive into Cunjee with Brownie on Tuesday—probably you'd get a letter from Dad a day earlier, and hear when he's coming home—and if he say............