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flowing normally. Ted and Jas were in the midst of a spirited
discussion on the latest chemical treatments of timber against "white
ant", and it was obvious that Jas was finding her brother's ideas
interesting. She was idiotically pleased that they were getting on so
well together. She did not bother to analyse why she desired so much
that they should be friends, but it mattered acutely to Ginny just then.
They were the two important men in her life, although one of them was
never to know this.
"And where's the little lass - Mona, isn't it?" Clive sat forward to
accept his mug from Ginny's extended tray. "I think you said, in your
letter, that she's ten years old, didn't you, princess ?"
"Yes, that's right." Oh, Clive! You don't know how you're
complicating everything, moaned Ginny inwardly. Jas Lawrence had
heard his words, and when she met his eyes, there was a frosty,
penetrating look in them that she didn't like at all.
Shortly after that he took his leave, retrieving his broad-brimmed hat
from beneath the wicker tatye. He held up his hand to Ted.
"No, don't get up," he said kindly. "You look as though you can do
with all the rest you can get at the moment. My advice is to take things
as easily as you can. I'd stay there for the afternoon if I were you -
there's plenty of time to see around. I hope you'll have a meal with us
this evening, before you go back to the hotel ?"
Ginny was relieved to hear Ted refusing firmly.
"Thanks all the same," he told Jas gratefully, "but we've arranged to
have all three meals in the pub. I wouldn't dream of taking advantage
in that way."
Jas gave a non-committal nod of understanding, and left them. He was
probably as thankful as she was that he and Clive Barratt were not to
share a table that evening, or any other. Ginny felt she'd have choked
on every mouthful!
Ted followed his host's advice, thankfully, it seemed to his sister as she
watched him anxiously. It wasn't like Ted to be so languid and listless.
He made a Wry face as he correctly interpreted her expression.
"I know, I know, Gin. It's the devil to feel so weak and tired. All my
own fault, though. I was overdoing things a bit in any case, and I
suppose that's how the bug managed to slay me the way it did. You
take Clive off, and show him the place. There seems to be a feast of
scenery for his artistic eye! I'll be here when you come back."
They found Mona down by the river pool where she and Ginny
frequently swam. She looked up, and when she saw Clive she gave a
small shriek.
"Ginny, he's got a beard! And his hair's long - it's kind of red. He's not
like you said at all," she accused.
Ginny laughed.
"Darling, this isn't my brother - we've left him back at the house. This
is a friend. His name's Clive, and he's an artist. He's longing to see all
your paintings. He knows all about them."
Mona put her head on one side and inspected him inquisitively, like a
cheeky sparrow.
"An artist? A real, proper one? Yes, you do look like one, too. I've
always thought men who made pictures 'n' all that would have beards,
and you do!"
Clive squatted down beside Mona, stroking his beard ruefully.
"See what I mean?" he murmured to Ginny good- naturedly. "It's
expected all right - artists invariably have beards, or they're not artists.
I hope you're not disappointed that I'm not Ginny's brother?" he said to
Mona.
"Oh, no." She was politeness itself. "I think it's awful good fun to meet
someone like you."
"Good." Clive smiled at Ginny, and held her eye. "Personally, I'm glad
I'm not Ginny's brother, too. It makes for a far more promising
relationship."
"Now, Clive," Ginny reproved him somewhat helplessly, "I thought
we were agreed there's no future in that."
He smiled broadly.
"Look here, sweetie, that's sheer defeatism, a thing I never
countenance! You don't think I came all die way up here with brother
Edward only to look at some of this youngster's work, do you ? Oh, no.
I'm going to further my cause whenever opportunities present
themselves, so be warned! You won't be up here for ever and ever, and
when you return to Sydney - who knows ? Now, poppet, let's see what
you're doing there."
He lifted Mona's folder, which lay on the grass beside her, and leafed
through it thoughtfully. Soon he and the little girl were involved in a
quaint exchange of ideas on the subjects depicted. Ginny lay on the
bank in the shade, only half listening. She was thinking of Jas
Lawrence. She hoped Clive's presence wasn't going to alter the
pleasant state of truce between herself and her employer. Just lately -
in fact, ever since he'd returned from Sydney - Jas had been gentle and
kind and disturbingly charming. It seemed as if he was prepared, at
last, to let bygones be bygones, and accept her as she was, without
further judgement and condemnation.
Eventually Ginny rolled over, sighing to herself.
"Clive, I think it's time we were strolling back. Sparky will have a cup
of tea ready, and then I suppose you and Ted will need to start back to
the Creek if you're to be on time for the evening meal."
"I'll follow," Mona told them. "I just want to finish this bit, and see if I
can do what Clive says."
"That's a smart kid," he observed, when they were out of the child's
hearing. "She's got a gift, there's no question of it, Ginny. Properly
taught, she could go a long way. She's young, though, and there's
plenty of time. Seems a funny life for someone her age, though,
doesn't it? The only child in an adult household." He grimaced. "It
reminds me of my own youth. My father got a very starchy
housekeeper when Mum ran out on us, and I used to hate coming-,
home in the evenings. At least I had friends at school, though. I used to
go to their homes for tea, and stick around, kicking a ball and so forth,
until their parents sent me packing."
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