An Outback Marriage

The noblest study of mankind is man, but the most fascinating study

of womankind is another woman's wardrobe, and the Australian girl

found something to marvel at in the quality of the visitor's apparel.

Dainty shoes, tailor-made jackets, fashionable short riding-habits,

mannish-looking riding-boots, silk undergarments, beautiful

jewellery, all were taken out of their packages and duly admired.

As each successive treasure was produced, Ellen Harriott's eyes grew

rounder with astonishment; and when, out of a travelling bag, there

appeared a complete dressing-table outfit of silverware--silver-backed

hair-brushes, silver manicure set, silver handglass, and so forth--she

drew a long breath of wonder and admiration.

It was her first sight of the vanities of the world, the things that

she had only dreamed of. The outfit was not anything extraordinary

from an English point of view, but to the bush-bred girl it was a

revelation.

"What beautiful things!" she said. "Now, when you go visiting to

a country-house in England, do you always take things like these,

all these riding-boots and things?"

"Oh, yes. You wouldn't ride without them."

"And do you take a maid to look after them?"

"Well, you must have a maid."

"And when you travel on the Continent, do you take a maid?"

"I always took one."

"What is Paris like? Isn't it just a dream? Did you go to

the opera?--Have you been on the Riviera?--Oh, do tell me about

those places--is it like you read about in books?--all beautiful,

well-dressed women and men with nothing to do--and did you go to

Monte Carlo?"

This was all poured out in a rush of words; but in Mary's experience

the Continent was merely a place where the Continentals got the

better of the English, and she said so.

"Travelling is so mixed up with discomfort, that it loses half

its plumage," she said. "I'll tell you all I can about Paris some

other time. Now you tell me," she went on, folding carefully a

silk blouse and putting it in a drawer, "are there any neighbours

here? Will anyone come to call?"

"I'm afraid you'll find it very dull here," said Ellen. "There are

no neighbours at all except Poss and Binjie, two young fellows on

the next station. The people in town are just the publicans and

the storekeeper, and all the selectors around us are a very wild

lot. Very few strangers come that we can have in the house. They

are nearly all cattle and sheep buyers, and they are either too

nervous to say a word, or they talk horses. They always come just

after mealtime, too, and we have to get everything laid on the

table again--sometimes we have ten meals a day in this house. And

the swagmen come all day long, and Mrs. Gordon or I have to go and

give them something to eat; there's plenty to do, always. So you

see, there are plenty of strangers, but no neighbours."