Over the Blue Mountains (13 page)

“There’s no fear of my being able to for a long while,” she promised.

“Unless you marry a very rich man,” said Penelope, who had evidently heard enough of this sort of thing from her mother and sister for it to color her conversation occasionally.

“No sign of it at the moment,” Juliet replied easily.

At other times they explored the streets and buildings of the city, and once she had worked out that the great shopping streets of Collins Street and Bourke Street ran parallel and were crossed at right angles by the almost equally busy Elizabeth and Swanston Streets, Juliet began to feel that she knew the general layout of the center of the city and could begin to find her way around.

But fine though that part of the city was, she was fain to agree with Penelope that nothing could be more beautiful than the wide, tree-shaded expanse of the great boulevard known as St. Kilda Road, which ran almost from the coast into the heart of Melbourne.

“Is it
really
as beautiful as some of the famous European streets?” Penelope asked, quivering with national pride.

“I’m not an expert, Penelope, and my European travel is confined to a week once in Paris and a few days in Brussels,” Juliet confessed. “But I find it hard to believe that anything could be nobler or lovelier. There is something—something—” she searched for the word and then found it “—something absolutely
royal
about St. Kilida Road. I can just see the open carriages driving up here in the sunshine, and the flags flying and the people standing in the shade of these wonderful trees and cheering.”

“Oh, Juliet, so can I when you describe it like that.” Penelope sucked in her breath admiringly.

But happy though the two girls were in their explorations, and easy though it was to cast off their cares when they were out in the spring sunshine, the grim realities of the family position refused to be ignored for very long.

Slowly the confused situation began to clear and the final picture that emerged was, if not strictly tragic, at least depressing enough for a family that had known not only comfort but luxury for most of their lives.

By selling practically everything they possessed, it seemed that actual debt could be avoided, and Juliet was secretly glad to find that her uncle insisted on this being done with scrupulous honesty.

Aunt Katherine pointed out plaintively that there were various ways of interpreting certain facets of the situation, and that if her husband would not be so overscrupulous they might save more from the wreck. But with one of his now rare displays of firmness, he said, “What I want to save from the wreck is our good name. Anything else can be built up again.”

“Oh, father, don’t indulge in heroics!” Verity exclaimed impatiently. “You can’t warm your hands at a good name—or feed yourself on it, either.”

“You can warm your heart at it,” Juliet exclaimed impulsively. “And you can feed your spirit on it, too.”

And, although Verity muttered something about “nonsense,” Juliet saw her uncle’s thin, pale face brighten a little and he gave her an approving pat on the shoulder.

“Well, while you’re all being so symbolic, what
I
would like to know is—where are we going to live, when this house and its contents are gone?” inquired Aunt Katherine rather crossly.

“In the house that Max has so generously offered us, of course,” her husband replied. “I had a long talk with him about it this afternoon. I can’t help feeling that this offer of his has solved many of our immediate problems.”

“If you call burying oneself alive a solution of any problem,” countered Aunt Katherine, fretfully employing her favorite description for any life other than the one she herself favored.

Wisely, Juliet could not help thinking, her uncle ignored this contribution to the discussion. And within a few days all the family had accepted the fact that when they left Melbourne they would be going to make their new home in what Aunt Katherine now referred to as “the wilds of New South Wales.”

Once the decision had been made, everyone seemed to feel that the sooner it was put into practice the better. Obviously there was no sense of recalling Andrew from boarding school at this point. It was decided that he should simply join them at Borralung, their new home, when the end of the term came, and meanwhile the rest of the family should accomplish the move as soon as possible before the really hot weather set in.

Inevitably , a considerable amount of the actual work of the move fell to Juliet’s lot, but she was satisfied that it should be so. For her there was no nostalgic value attached to the things that had to be relinquished, nor was there the pain of several links and reluctant goodbyes in every stage of the departure.

But for the others there was bound to be a good deal of this, and Juliet was only too glad to save them what she could of such unhappiness. Consequently, she found herself discussing and arranging many things with Max, and she was surprised afresh to find how much he knew of the practical difficulties of simple living in a fairly remote community.

“You don’t
look
, somehow, as though you should know much about these things,” she told him once.

Her speculative glance appeared to amuse and slightly surprise him.

“Is that a nice way of saying that I look useless a soft of chap?” he inquired.

“Oh, no!” Her shocked protest drew a grin from him. “I suppose—” she rubbed the bridge of her charming nose with a thoughtful forefinger “—I suppose what I meant was that you look too worldly and well-dressed to know all about drains and lighting and the usefulness of a sewing machine if you have to make your own curtains and so on.”

“Give me credit for a little common sense,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh, I do!” Her glance drifted over him again with more approval than she knew. And then her thoughts went off at a tangent, and when she spoke again it was not about him. “Max, I can’t help feeling that I ought to go on ahead, and try to get the place into some sort of order, so that it looks attractive and more like home when they see it for the first time. Aunt Katherine is tremendously susceptible to first impressions, you know. If she chooses to dislike the place on sight, we’re going to have a whole new set of problems.”

“Hm—” He considered that. “I suppose you’re right. But you hardly know enough of the country and life here generally to be parked there on your own for a week or two.”

“I might take Penelope,” she began doubtfully.

But he shook his head.

“Too young for the responsibility, good child though she is.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I tell you what we could do.” He looked considering, and as though some reflection pleased him. “I could take you and Verity—” Juliet’s heart sank “—to Bathurst, leave her there with friends of mine—” her heart regained its normal level “—while she explores the question of a job, and take you on to Borralung. And I would get Carol to join us there...”

“Oh, how lovely! But could she possibly get away?” Juliet was enchanted at the prospect.

“I think she would manage a short while with you, Juliet,” Max said, “and she would be more help to you than anyone else could be.”

“Oh, and the most cheering and inspiring company I know,” Juliet cried. “I couldn’t imagine any introduction to the place that would endear it to me more.”

“Well, we’ll see what can be done,” Max promised, but at this tribute to the sister who meant so much to him his eyes went brilliant and smiling in his tanned face, so that Juliet thought,
Really, he’s very handsome when he looks like that. No wonder Verity was determined to have him.

When the plan was put before the family it met with modified approval, Aunt Katherine finally accepting the fact that Juliet really could not be in two places at once and that, on the whole, it was better that she should prepare for their coming, rather than superintend their departure.

Verity, though she disliked any scheme in which someone else might see more of Max for a while than she would herself, could not blind herself to the obvious advantages to the proposal.

“Where do you propose to mak
e your
headquarters?” she asked her fiancé.

“I doubt if I’ll have any, my dear, in the strict sense of the word,” he retorted good-humoredly. “I shall probably be on the move between Bathurst, Borralung and Bakandi most of the time.”

“With the longest stops in Bathurst,” she insisted.

“With the longest stops in Bathurst,” he promised with a smile.

And so it was settled, and Juliet—and Verity, too—prepared to take farewell of Melbourne.

Goodbyes could not, of course, have for Juliet the same significance that they had for Verity, who had lived in the city most of her life. But she felt the most genuine regret when she looked on the stately Parliament House and splendid Public Library and even the lively bustle of Flinders Street Station—for the last time.

“You’ll be coming back one day,” Max said cheerfully.

But Juliet could not help thinking that her traveling days must be considered to be over, for the time at any rate. For the first time since she left London she was going to something that could be regarded as a permanent home, and already her mind and imagination reached out toward it.

On the journey—which was once more accomplished largely by plane, as most long journeys seemed to be in Australia—Juliet took care to leave her cousin and Max as much as possible together. Not only did she most ardently wish to avoid anything that could provoke even a mild repetition of the trouble she had had once before with Verity, she also willingly conceded that this was a time when her cousin was entitled to seek consolation and courage from her fiancé above all.

Juliet herself had plenty with which to occupy her thoughts. Enough had happened to her, she reflected with a slight grimace, in the six or eight weeks she had spent in this strange and fascinating new country.

The fearful shock over Martin’s defection, which, painful though the mere memory of it was still, seemed now to belong to another stage of her existence. The rich and heartwarming discovery of Carol. Carol who had unhesitatingly replied to her brother’s appeal for help by a promise to be at Borralung as soon as they were there themselves.

Then there was the shattering blow to her relations—her family, she supposed she might almost call them. And finally the decision to start life afresh in circumstances she had never known before but that she had accepted with blithe confidence.

Now she came to think of it, Juliet was surprised and slightly appalled to reflect on the impulsive optimism with which she had committed herself to this new situation.

It was idle to pretend that her aunt would run the household, with Juliet merely an assistant who had time to learn the new circumstances. The whole family seemed to have accepted the idea that
she
would be the pivot around which the new life would turn.

I must have been crazy,
thought Juliet in a moment of panic.
Why do I do these things? There was no more sense in my undertaking this than there was in my rushing off to Australia on the strength of a few kind words from Aunt Katherine.

But it was too late to think about that now and, firmly quieting her quivering nerves, Juliet grimly determined to tackle the future to the best of her ability.

The stay in Bathurst was not a long one. The friends with whom Verity was to stay for the time being welcomed her warmly and, having promised to return in a few days, Max departed with Juliet on the last stage of the journey.

He had had his car sent over from Sydney by now, and as they drove the hundred miles between Bathurst and Borralung, Juliet could not help recalling that other drive with him, when she had supposed she would find Martin waiting eagerly for her at the end.

She wondered where he was and what had happened to him, though of course—she sighed impatiently—he was no concern of hers now. She had written to him, briefly, from Bakandi, telling him there was no need for him to worry about her—that she had both friends and relations in Australia. And she had, with what enthusiasm she could, expressed the hope that he would be happy.

There had been no reply. And though perhaps it was better that way, Juliet could not help thinking that he might have sent her one word of regret and good wishes.

It was early afternoon when they drove into Borralung. And there, outside the combined inn and cafe of the little country community, stood Carol’s car. Inside, they found Carol, drinking tea and eating buttered toast, for all the world as though she had just dropped in for a chat.

“I shall never get used to the way you all take these distances so calmly,” Juliet exclaimed as she kissed Carol with warm delight. “Here we have come hundreds of miles to a completely unknown place—at least, so far as I am concerned—and the first person we find is you, who have also come miles and miles...”

“Oh, darling, don’t exaggerate! It was only fifty-four,” Carol protested good-humoredly. “And a lovely drive at that. By the way, I think you’re going to like your house, even though it needs to have a good deal done to it.”

“Have you seen it already?”

“Yes. I arrived earlier than I expected, so I drove out to look it over. It’s about a mile outside the town and definitely has possibilities. Have some tea.”