Within the gates of the Homestead, there was a steep, sharp bit of road,

cut out in the red sandstone rock, and after a few paces she paused to

rest with a sigh that brought Conrade to her side, when she put her arm

round his neck, and leant on his shoulder; but even her two supporters

could not prevent her from looking pale and exhausted.

"Never mind," she said, "this salt wind is delightful. How like old

times it is!" and she stood gazing across the little steep lawn at

the grey sea, the line of houses following the curve of the bay,

and straggling up the valley in the rear, and the purple headlands

projecting point beyond point, showing them to her boys, and telling

their names.

"It is all ugly and cold," said Francis, with an ungracious shiver. "I

shall go home to Melbourne when I'm a man."

"And you will come, mamma?" added Conrade.

He had no answer, for Fanny was in her aunt's arms; and, like mother and

daughter, they clung to each other--more able to sympathize, more truly

one together, than the young widow could be with either of the girls.

As soon as Fanny had rested and enjoyed the home atmosphere downstairs,

she begged to visit the dear old rooms, and carried Conrade through a

course of recognitions through the scarcely altered apartments. Only one

had been much changed, namely, the schoolroom, which had been stripped

of the kindly old shabby furniture that Fanny tenderly recollected, and

was decidedly bare; but a mahogany box stood on a stand on one side;

there was a great accession of books, and writing implements occupied

the plain deal table in the centre.

"What have you done to the dear old room--do you not use it still?"

asked Fanny.

"Yes, I work here," said Rachel.

Vainly did Lady Temple look for that which women call work.

"I have hitherto ground on at after-education and self-improvement,"

said Rachel; "now I trust to make my preparation available for others. I

will undertake any of your boys if you wish it."

"Thank you; but what is that box?"--in obedience to a curious push and

pull from Conrade.

"It is her dispensary," said Grace.

"Yes," said Rachel, "you are weak and nervous, and I have just the thing

for you."

"Is it homoeopathy?"

"Yes, here is my book. I have done great things in my district, and

should do more but for prejudice. There, this globule is the very thing

for your case; I made it out last night in my book. That is right, and I

wanted to ask you some questions about little Wilfred."




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