Within the gates of the Homestead, there was a steep, sharp bit of road,
cut out in the red sandstone rock, and after a few paces she paused to
rest with a sigh that brought Conrade to her side, when she put her arm
round his neck, and leant on his shoulder; but even her two supporters
could not prevent her from looking pale and exhausted.
"Never mind," she said, "this salt wind is delightful. How like old
times it is!" and she stood gazing across the little steep lawn at
the grey sea, the line of houses following the curve of the bay,
and straggling up the valley in the rear, and the purple headlands
projecting point beyond point, showing them to her boys, and telling
their names.
"It is all ugly and cold," said Francis, with an ungracious shiver. "I
shall go home to Melbourne when I'm a man."
"And you will come, mamma?" added Conrade.
He had no answer, for Fanny was in her aunt's arms; and, like mother and
daughter, they clung to each other--more able to sympathize, more truly
one together, than the young widow could be with either of the girls.
As soon as Fanny had rested and enjoyed the home atmosphere downstairs,
she begged to visit the dear old rooms, and carried Conrade through a
course of recognitions through the scarcely altered apartments. Only one
had been much changed, namely, the schoolroom, which had been stripped
of the kindly old shabby furniture that Fanny tenderly recollected, and
was decidedly bare; but a mahogany box stood on a stand on one side;
there was a great accession of books, and writing implements occupied
the plain deal table in the centre.
"What have you done to the dear old room--do you not use it still?"
asked Fanny.
"Yes, I work here," said Rachel.
Vainly did Lady Temple look for that which women call work.
"I have hitherto ground on at after-education and self-improvement,"
said Rachel; "now I trust to make my preparation available for others. I
will undertake any of your boys if you wish it."
"Thank you; but what is that box?"--in obedience to a curious push and
pull from Conrade.
"It is her dispensary," said Grace.
"Yes," said Rachel, "you are weak and nervous, and I have just the thing
for you."
"Is it homoeopathy?"
"Yes, here is my book. I have done great things in my district, and
should do more but for prejudice. There, this globule is the very thing
for your case; I made it out last night in my book. That is right, and I
wanted to ask you some questions about little Wilfred."