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“You mean—”

“I mean when I was Vida’s age, I, too, had an eye for Tim Torrance. What girl hadn’t?” A pause. “Still has. But it was different then, the Territorian was only climbing up the rungs and the Mannerings were at the ladder top. But Tim’s at the top himself now, and the Mannerings . . , well . . .” She shrugged.

“You were—attracted to Mr. Torrance?'

“I was crazy about him, but Mamma soon saw to that.” A narrowing of Janet’s eyes as she added: “As I soon saw to her. But now it’s little Vida’s turn, and it looks as if she could win. Mannering Park could do with a boost/’

“But Mr. Torrance mightn’t feel like that about Vida.”

“Not about Vida particularly, but certainly about the Establishment,” Janet said carelessly, as though it was something to be taken for granted.

“Anyway, that’s what the shopping spree
really
is about. Not you, dear, Vida. For the first time in Mannering history someone not a pastoralist, or equal to, is being invited to a Mannering ‘do’. The Territorian is. Like it or lump it, Gemma, my dear brother is going to have to shake Tim Torrance’s hand when he comes and murmur the expected pleasantries.”

“I don’t mind,” Gemma assured her.

“I didn’t mean you, I meant Bruce, and when I said have to, I meant have to. The Territorian can scarcely attend an engagement party and not step forward to offer his congratulations.”

“Engagement party?” asked Gemma.

“Yours, dear. Bruce’s. It occurs before the wedding. You didn’t think I meant Vida’s, did you? Not this soon.”

“No, I didn’t think you meant Vida’s, but—”

“But will he come, you’re thinking. I don’t know.” Janet had gone to the window ostensibly to fix the Venetian blind, but Gemma saw that her fingers were trembling, and that she barely touched the cords.

She turned back to Gemma.

“Vida is five years younger than Bruce and six years younger than I,” she said. “You could say I was born six years too soon. So” ... a flick of her head to a framed photo on the mantelpiece ... “I got back on dear Mamma and said Yes to Jim.” She crossed and picked up the photo and handed it to Gemma.

“Meet my husband. Jim Willis, now out at the Rest, and probably as glad to be there as I am for him not to be here.”

There was a pause, then again Janet said:

“As you see, we’re a
very
nice family.”

RATHER to her surprise Gemma found she fitted quite easily into Janet’s household. She had expected the reverse, had seen herself holding back often from an unpleasant argument, giving in just for the sake of peace at all costs until she and Bruce lived their own lives, but ii was not like that at all. Although Janet was sharp, candid frequently to embarrassment, touchy as a nettle, there was something about her that struck a chord in Gemma, made her respect and like the girl. She had a feeling that Janet unwillingly liked her in return.

“Do you find me a cross-current and a contradiction, Gemma ?” Janet asked once.

“Yes,” smiled Gemma cheerfully.

“You certainly don’t mince words about it.”

“Can one, to a cross-current and a contradiction ?”

Harriet was now ensconced in a corner of one of the stables.

“But don’t go getting any bright ideas,” warned Janet. “She can’t grow up there.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing she’s not a milk type of cow calf. Did you know that?”

“Yes.” Gemma remembered it from the Territorian.

“No, she’s strictly the meat variety. Sorry to be brutal, but it’s the truth. If she was intended for milk, she would grow large udders. She won’t. She’ll only
grow large enough to feed her own calf.”

“Well?” challenged Gemma.

“Well nothing. Everything at Mannering Park must account for itself.
You
will soon learn that.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you won’t be marrying Bruce just to sit there and be Mrs. Mannering junior, my dear Gemma, you'll have young Mannerings.”

“I sincerely hope I do,” said Gemma. “I love children.”

“One child will do, so long as it’s a male. If it’s not” . . . Janet spread her hands, then said mischievously : “Offspring ad infinitum until you do.”

“But I love little girls as well as little boys.”

“It has to be a boy. Really, you arc obtuse!”

“What,” dared Gemma, “if a boy still never appears?”

“Deed poll,” smiled Janet blandly. “My dear mamma did that. So long as the name of Mannering continues.”

“You frighten me with Mamma.”

“When you see her,” said Janet cryptically, “you’ll call me a liar.”

On the second morning of Gemma’s stay, Janet had asked Gemma could she ride.

“Pony club stuff only,” Gemma had confessed.

“Better than nothing, I suppose. I’ll get you a mount. Mother will expect me to do that at least. Incidentally, Mother still rides.” Janet paused, then added : “Beautifully.”

Janet was very critical of Gemma’s horsemanship, but she was still glad that Gemma knew at least which side of the mount to approach.

“I suppose you’ll improve,” she nodded. She asked abruptly: “How’s your health?”

“Good. But what is all this? I’m not being put up for sale, am I ?”

“Nothing would displease Mamma more than a fraile ladye. You look all right to me.”

“Thank you,” Gemma said wryly.

One night over dinner, Janet asked abruptly: “Why did you accept Bruce?”

“I—I loved him.”

“Loved Bruce?”

“He’s very good-looking, very presentable, very elegant, very eligible.”

“Thank you for the real reason at least,” said Janet drily.

“Janet, that’s unfair!” protested Gemma.

“It was more unfair of Bruce,” scowled Janet. “You’re quite a nice girl.”

“How do you mean unfair of Bruce?”

“He was out on a limb at the time. I expect he felt the same as I felt when I married—” But Janet stopped herself from finishing that. “I suppose he felt he had to do something,” she mumbled.

“Janet!”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s a lie, anyway. Bruce fell for you. You can see that whenever he looks at you.”

But lying was something that Janet could
not
do, and Gemma saw it at once. She accepted Janet’s apology ... an apology from Janet was so unknown you felt you had to accept it. . . but she remembered the exchange of words long after.

He was out on a limb. He had to do something.

Jim Willis came back from the Rest. Gemma had dreaded his return. If Willis's wife was touchy, then how would her husband be? But Jim Willis proved one of the nicest men Gemma had ever met.

His was a kind country face, a plain bill endearing face, with soft brown eyes with a friendly glow in them. And he loved his Janet. For all that Janet had said . . as glad to be there as I am for him not to be here”, Jim was still unmistakably and very obviously in love with his wife.

With the return of her husband, there was a change for the worse in Janet. She was more acid than ever; now there were no friendly breakthroughs with Gemma. Also she referred to Gemma to Jim as “she” or “her”.

“She fetched a calf with her. Think out something for it, for heaven’s sake.” Or—“She can’t ride for nuts. Give her some know-how.”

Jim took Gemma out riding, and though in the beginning Gemma considered that Bruce should have polished her up in this, she soon knew she could not have had a better teacher. Jim was infinitely patient, infinitely encouraging, and he had a deep love for the country around him. Gemma was surprised to learn that he, too, was not country born.

“I’m not, but you can tell that. But you have that country look, Bill.”

“No, I was a city sparrow. But I always had a feeling for the outdoors, so I came to perhaps the world’s biggest outdoors of all. There are not many wider horizons than those of inland Australia ”

“You came straight to Mannering Park?”

“Yes, and remained at Mannering Park. I worked myself through every single section of it, the stables, the machine shop, the book-keeping section, even the stock work. I did it all, from roustabout to station foreman.”

“And then you married the boss’s daughter.”

“Yes. That finally set the seal.” Jim’s voice was both rueful yet proud at the same time, and Gemma knew the pride was because of Janet. “Ever tried a jump, Gemma?” he asked. “How about that very low log? Dandy will take you over.”

At the other side of the log, after he had praised her, Jim said: “I married Janet because I loved her. Her being the boss’s daughter was one of the unfortunate things that went with it, but when you love someone you take it all in your stride. I was a good worker, I knew that, and I knew that Mrs. Mannering couldn’t pass that over when I asked her for Janet.” A pause. “But I knew, too, that Janet didn’t love me. She was all for the Torrance fellow. When you see him you’ll know why.”

“I’ve seen him,” said Gemma.

“He was, of course, quite unthinkable for a Mannering, but Janet has told me that the tune is a little different now, that a change could be creeping in. Actually what she said” ... a wry smile . . . “was ‘I was born six years too soon’.”

“Oh, Jim, she was joking.” But Janet had said that, too, thought Gemma, to her.

Jim shrugged philosophically, then went on, “I didn’t waste any time, Gemma, when I saw how Janet was reacting to the Torrance taboo, how the girl was ready for
anyone
who would pluck her from the Mannering tree. Janet was full of rebellion, and she only said Yes to me out of rebellion, but it still didn’t worry me. I had no pride ... is there pride in true love
^J
. . . and I didn’t mind being the afterthought. It didn’t matter how I got Janet so long as I got her. I knew, too, that Janet’s mother would agree . . not enthusiastically, perhaps, but probably a little thankfully not knowing what her rebel daughter might do next.

"So we married.” Jim smiled at Gemma, then said : “Shall we try that jump again?”

Bruce drove over every day to Janet’s, and Gemma planned to surprise him, when she became more accomplished, by riding, not driving, over to him. But meanwhile she: had a lot of faults to right, only small ones, but Bruce still might notice them, so the next day she drove her car across instead.

It was an excessively hot day, so Gemma hopefully put Harriet in the back seat. The drive might stir up a little wind, she thought, and the calf would certainly appreciate that.

Harriet looked overheated, uncomfortable and cross, and her pink mouth was open more often than shut as she tried to gulp in more air. Because of this she was dribbling, and Gemma looked disgustedly down on a wet splodge on her fresh green dress.

“Really, Harriet, you need a bib! Now I’ll have to change.”

She ran back to the house, and the run made her hotter still. On an impulse she took out her shorts and tube top.

When she got to Bruce's, Bruce was away at the western fields. Gemma stopped for a while talking to Hannah, then decided to follow Bruce out there, give him a surprise. She would put Harriet out to graze when she got there; Harriet would enjoy that.

When she reached the western fields, she scouted around until she found a huddle of horses on the other side of the paddock. Near the horses were Bruce and his men, evidently, from the businesslike circle they had formed, conferring. She put Harriet out and let her delight in grass under her hooves instead of cement.

She had completely forgotten about her shorts and top. If she had remembered them, she would have congratulated herself on having the good sense to wear such suitable clothes on such a hot day.

She looked towards the horses and saw Bruce detach himself from the circle of stockmen. He was saying something to a young junior whom Hannah had told her earlier had only been signed on this week. Hannah had been interested in him, for he came from her old home town.

Presently Gemma saw that the boy was riding across to her. When he came up to her, he dismounted and touched his big hat. All the workers wore ten-gallon hats. The aboriginal stockmen particularly loved them.

“Mr. Mannering says it’s too hot for you here, miss. He says to go back.”

“Back?” she queried.

“Back to the homestead.”

“But—” Gemma began.

“Also,” said the boy, “to take the calf.”

The young stockman was not looking at Gemma
now, he was doing something to his saddle. “That's what he told me to say, miss.” He added a little uncomfortably: ‘‘I have to do what he says.”

“Of course you do. Thank you. Will you help me push this child in the car? Then we’ll go home.”

“Thank you, miss.”

The boy helped her, and Gemma reversed the car and drove back to Janet’s again. She supposed she should be grateful for Bruce's consideration, but she would have preferred for him to have come and told her himself. Also, there had been a kind of hesitation in the boy, almost a reluctance to pass on the message. Or was it command? Still, it was very hot, and she supposed Bruce would know what these inland suns could do better than a new chum.

She put Harriet back m the corner that Janet had found for her, then went into the homestead, showered and changed into a cool shift.

And it was
of the shift that Bruce spoke the moment he walked up the front steps and down the hall no more than twenty minutes later.

Janet and Jim were sitting in the lounge with Gemma by this, and Jim had mixed long cold drinks. Because it was such a hot day, Jim had put a cube of
ice
in each, and afterwards Gemma thought she would always remember what happened when Bruce walked in as something accompanied by the chink of ice, rather, she thought vaguely at the time, like incidental music to a movie.

“I must say, Gemma,” Bruce burst out, “you do look better now in a dress. I know you're feeling our heat, but was it necessary to drive out there wearing an outfit like you did?”

Gemma was so startled that she spilled some of the drink down the dress that Bruce had just said she looked better in. She stared at Bruce.