The pool of St Branok

Lizzie gave a little cry of pleasure and came towards me. Some of the dead flowerheads fell from the basket. She paused and looked at them as though puzzling as to whether she should pick them up or come on to us.

"You can pick those up later," said Ben. "First come and meet our new friend."

She nodded as though pleased to have the problem solved for her; she came towards us smiling.

She had the face of a young child, quite unlined, wide blue eyes and sleek fair hair in a plait which was wound round her head.

Ben took her hand and she gave him a smile of contentment as though she were very glad to see him.

"Mrs. Mandeville ... Angelet," he said.

"Angelet," she repeated after him.

"And, Angelet, this is Lizzie about whom I have told you."

I took her hand and she gave me that rather lovely innocent smile.

"Is your father at home, Lizzie?" asked Ben.

She nodded.

"Perhaps we could all go and see him, eh? Ah, here is Mrs. Wilder."

Mrs. Wilder, a rather stern-faced woman in, I imagined, her late thirties, had emerged from the house and was coming towards us.

"Good day, Mrs. Wilder," said Ben. "This is Mrs. Mandeville. I was telling you and Mr. Morley about the new arrivals, you remember."

"Of course, Mr. Lansdon," said Mrs. Wilder. "Welcome to Golden Creek, Mrs. Mandeville. Mr. Morley will be delighted to see you. Do come in."

I had not heard of Mrs. Wilder before but I guessed by the manner in which she went to Lizzie and took her arm that she was a sort of housekeeper or companion to Lizzie.

"Lizzie has been wanting to meet you," said Mrs. Wilder. "Haven't you, Lizzie?"

"Oh yes ... yes," said Lizzie.

Her candid gaze met mine and I returned her smile.

We were taken into a hall. It was hung with prints of horses mostly. There was a heavy oak chest over which was an ornate mirror in a heavy brass frame. Mrs. Wilder knocked at a door and called out: "Visitors, Mr. Morley. Mr. Lansdon has brought Mrs. Mandeville."

"Come along in," called a voice.

We went into a room which seemed full of heavy furniture. On the mantelshelf where there were many ornaments was a daguerreotype picture of a woman in a tight black bodice and a voluminous skirt. Her hair was drawn down at the sides of her face to a knot at the back and I could see in her a faint resemblance to Lizzie. I guessed this was Alice Morley, for the picture had pride of place among the vases.

In a big armchair, a table beside him, on which stood a glass of ale, sat James Morley.

"Hello, James," said Ben. "I've brought one of our newcomers to meet you. This is Mrs. Mandeville."

He was about to make a great effort and rise, but Ben stopped him. "Don't get up, James. Mrs. Mandeville understands."

"I'm a bit stiff" in my joints these days," said James Morley. "But welcome to Golden Creek. I'm glad to see you."

"Do sit down," said Mrs. Wilder. "I daresay you would like some refreshment. Wine ... or ale ..."

We both agreed that we would like a little wine and Mrs. Wilder went away to get it.

"Now," said James Morley. "What do you think of Golden Creek?"

Ben laughed.

"A difficult question for Mrs. Mandeville to answer politely, James. She has just come from fashionable London."

"A little different here, eh?"

I said that indeed it was but that I was finding Golden Creek very interesting.

"People come and go. I should never have come ..." He looked at the picture on the mantelshelf.

Ben said quickly: "We could all say that at times." He turned to me. "Mr. Morley has one of the most prosperous properties in Victoria."

His eyes brightened a little at that. "Good grazing land," he said. "I was one of the lucky ones. I was here before the others came. Why, when I first came here there wasn't a homestead for a good many miles."

The wine had arrived and Mrs. Wilder served it.

"We met Lizzie doing something with the flowers," said Ben.

"Lizzie's always doing something with the flowers," said her father indulgently. "Aren't you, Lizzie?"

The girl nodded, smiling happily.

"And she's done wonders with them, too, hasn't she, Mrs. Wilder?"

"I never thought," said Mrs. Wilder, "to see them grow as they do. You have green fingers, Lizzie."

"So you're out here to find gold, Mrs. Mandeville," said James Morley.

"Yes," I said, "and that seems to be the usual reason why people are here."

"A wild goose chase, I reckon."

"But some people catch the goose," added Ben.

James Morley looked at him and cocked his eye on one side. "And if anyone's going to do that, I'll lay a sovereign it'll be you, Ben Lansdon."

"It is what I intend," said Ben.

"The quest for gold," said the old man. "If only we were content with what we've got and didn't go stretching out for more."

"The world would just stand still," said Ben. "Now, James, we've had this argument before." He turned to me. "James thinks I ought to go in for grazing. He reckons it's the sensible thing to do."