"Chinkie's Flat", George Lewis Becke [books to improve english .txt] 📗
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- Author: George Lewis Becke
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"No; Mr. Mallard is with Mr. and, Miss Grainger at the 'Queen's.' He left here a few minutes ago."
"May I show you the way, miss?" said a huge bearded man, who, booted and spurred, took off his hat to her in an awkward manner. "I'm Dick Scott, one of Mr. Grainger's men."
"Thank you," replied Sheila, "it is very kind of you," and, escorted by the burly digger, she went out into the street again.
"Are you Miss Caroline, ma'am?" said her guide to her respectfully, as he tried to shorten his lengthy strides.
"Yes, my name is Carolan," she replied, trying to hide a smile.
"Thought so, ma'am. I heerd the boss a-tellin' Miss Grainger as you would be a-comin' to Chinkie's on yer way up ter Minervy Downs. Here's the 'Queen's,' miss, an' there's the boss and his sister and Mr. Mallard on the verandah there havin' a cooler," and then, to her amusement and Grainger's astonishment, Mr. Dick Scott introduced her.
"This is Miss Caroline, boss. I picked her up at the 'Royal,'" and then, without another word, he marched off again with a proud consciousness of having "done the perlite thing."
"I am Sheila Carolan, Mr. Grainger. I was at the 'Royal 'asking for Mr. Mallard when Mr. Scott kindly brought me here."
"I am delighted to meet you, Miss Carolan," said Grainger, who had risen and extended his hand. "I had not the slightest idea you had arrived." And then he introduced her to his sister and Mallard.
"Now, Miss Carolan, please let me give you a glass of this--it is simply lovely and cold," said Myra, pouring some champagne into a glass with some crashed ice in it. "My brother is the proad possessor of a big but rapidly diminishing lump of ice, which was sent to him by the captain of the _Corea_ just now."
"Thank you, Miss Grainger. I really am very thirsty. I have had quite a lot of walking about to-day. I have a letter to you, Mr. Mallard, from Mrs. Farrow," and she handed the missive to him.
"I am so very sorry I did not know of your arrival, Miss Carolan," said Mallard. "I would have met you on board, but, as a matter of fact, I did not expect you in the _Corea_, as she is a very slow boat."
"I was anxious to get to Mrs. Farrow," Sheila explained, "and so took the first steamer."
"Where are you staying, Miss Carolan?" asked Myra.
"Oh, I've been very fortunate. I have actually secured a room at 'Magnetic Villa,' on Melton Hill; in fact I went there just after you had left."
Myra clapped her hands with delight. "Oh, how lovely! I shall be there for a week, and my brother and Mr. Mallard are staying there as well."
"So Mrs. Lee Trappeme informed me," said Sheila with a bright smile.
Mallard--an irrepressible joker and mimic--at once threw back his head, crossed his hands over his chest, and bowed in such an exact imitation of Mrs. Trappeme that a burst of laughter followed.
"Now you two boys can run away and play marbles for a while, as Miss Carolan and I want to have a little talk before we go to the 'refined family circle' for dinner," said Myra to her brother. "It is now six o'clock; our luggage has gone up, and so, if you will come back for us in half an hour, we will let you escort us there--to the envy of all the male population of this horrid, dusty, noisy town."
"Very well," said Grainger with a laugh, "Mallard and I will contrive to exist until then," and the two men went off into the billiard-room.
"Now, Miss Carolan," said the lively Myra, as she opened the door of the sitting-room and carried in the table on which were the glasses, champagne bottle, and ice, "we'll put these inside first. The sight of that ice will make every man who may happen to see it and who knows Ted come and introduce himself to me. Oh, this is a very funny country! I'm afraid it rather shocked you to see me drinking champagne on an hotel verandah in full view of passers-by. But, really, the whole town is excited--it has gold-fever on the brain--and then all the men are so nice, although their free and easy ways used to astonish me considerably at first. But diggers especially are such manly men---you know what I mean."
"Oh, quite. I know I shall like North Queensland. There were quite a number of diggers on board the _Carea_, and one night we held a concert in the saloon and I sang 'The Kerry Dance'--I'm an Irishwoman--and next morning a big man named O'Hagan, one of the steerage passengers, came up and asked me if I would 'moind acceptin' a wee bit av a stone,' and he handed me a lovely specimen of quartz with quite two ounces of gold in it. He told me he had found it on the Shotover River, in New Zealand. I didn't know what to say or do at first, and then he paid me such a compliment that I fairly tingled all over with vanity. 'Sure an' ye'll take the wee bit av a stone from me, miss,' he said. 'I'm a Kerry man meself, an' when I heard yez singin' "The Kerry Dance," meself and half a dozen more men from the oold sod felt that if ye were a man we'd have carried yez around the deck in a chair."
"How nice of him!" said Myra; "but they are all like that. Nearly every one of my brother's men at Chinkie's Flat gave me something in the way of gold specimens when I left there."
"Then," resumed Sheila, "in the afternoon _all_ the steerage passengers sent me and the captain what they call a 'round robin,' and asked if he would let them have a concert in the steerage, and if I would sing. And we did have it--on the deck--and I had to sing that particular song _three_ times."
"I wish I had been there! Do you know, Miss Carolan, that that big man who brought you here--Dick Scott--rough and uneducated as he is, is a gentleman. On our way down from Chinkie's Flat we had to swim our horses across the Ross River, which was in flood. When we reached the other side I was, of course, wet through, and my hair had come down, and I looked like a half-drowned cat, I suppose. There is a public-house on this side of the Ross, and we went there at once to change our clothes, which were in canvas saddle bags on a pack-horse, and came over dry. The public-house was full of people, among whom were three commercial travellers, who were doing what is called 'painting the place red'--they were all half-intoxicated. As I came in wet and dripping they leered at me, and one of them said, 'Look at the sweet little ducky--poor little darling--with her pitty ickle facey-wacey all wet and coldy-woldy.' Ted was not near me at the time, but Scott heard, and ten minutes later, as I was changing my clothes, I heard a dreadful noise, and the most _awful_ language, and then a lot of cheering. I dressed as quickly as possible and went out into the dining-room, and there on the floor were the three commercial travellers. Their faces looked simply dreadful, smothered in blood, and I felt quite sick. At the other end of the room were a lot of men, miners and stockmen, who were surrounding Dick Scott, slapping him on the back, and imploring him to drink with them. It seems that as soon as I had gone to my room to change, the valiant Dick had told them that the 'drummers' had insulted Mr. Grainger's sister, and in a few minutes the room was cleared and a ring formed, and Dick actually did what the landlord termed 'smashed up the whole three in five minutes.'"
"I'm sure I shall like Mr. Dick Scott," said Sheila. "I had to try hard and not laugh when he pointed to you, and said in his big, deep voice, 'There they are, having a "cooler"'--I thought at first he meant you were cooling yourselves."
"Any drink is called a 'cooler,' "explained Myra; "but, oh dear, how I do chatter! The fact is, I'm so wildly excited, and want to talk so much that I can't talk fast enough. But I _must_ first of all tell you this--I'm really most sincerely glad to meet you, for I feel as if I knew you well. Mrs. Farrow--I spent a week at Minerva Downs--told me you were coming, and that she was longing to see you. I am sure you will be very, very happy with her. She is the most lovable, sweet woman in the world, and when she spoke of your mother her eyes filled with tears. And the children are simply _splendid_. I suppose I am unduly fond of them because they made so much of me, and think that my brother is the finest rider in the world--'and he is that, indade'--isn't that Irish?"
"Yes," said Sheila smilingly, "that is Irish; and I am sure I shall be very happy there."
Myra Grainger, who was certainly, as she had said, wildly excited, suddenly moved her chair close to that on which Sheila sat.
"Miss Carolan, I'm sure that you and I will always be great 'chums'--as they say here in North Queensland--and I'm just dying to tell you of something. Within this last hour I have become engaged to Mr. Mallard! Even Ted doesn't know it yet. Oh, I have heaps and heaps of things to tell you. Can't we have a real, nice long talk to-night?"
"Indeed we can," said Sheila, looking into the girl's bright, happy face.
CHAPTER IX ~ DINNER WITH "THE REFINED FAMILY"
Somewhat to the annoyance of Grainger and his friends, they found on their arrival at "Magnetic Villa" that there were several other visitors there who had apparently come to dine. Whether they were personal friends of Mrs. Trappeme or not, or were "paying guests" like themselves, they could not at first discover.
"Dinner will be ready at eight o'clock, Miss Grainger," said Mrs. Trappeme sweetly to Myra, who with Sheila had been shown into their private sitting-room; and then she added quickly, as she heard a footstep in the passage, "You have not met my daughter. Come, Juliette, dear--Miss Grainger, my eldest daughter; Miss Carolan, Miss Trappeme."
The two girls bowed rather coldly to Miss Trappeme, who, after the usual commonplaces, asked Miss Grainger if she were not tired.
"Very--and so is Miss Carolan. We shall be glad of an hour's rest before dinner."
The hint was unmistakable, and Miss Trappeme smiled herself out, inwardly raging at what she told her mother was Sheila's forwardness in so soon thrusting herself upon Miss Grainger.
As she went out, Sheila looked at Myra and laughed. "We are certainly meant to be treated as members of the family, whether we like it or not. I wonder if the other people we saw are as pushful as 'Mamma' and 'Juliette.'"
"I trust not; that would be awful--even for a week."
Mallard was in Grainger's room, sprawled out on the bed, talking to him and smoking, whilst the latter was opening a leather trunk which contained
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