"
"I want to speak to Ted," moaned Mrs. Boulte, but the dog-cart rattled on, and
Kurrell was left on the road, shamed, and boiling with wrath against Mrs.
Boulte.
He waited till Mrs. Vansuythen was driving back to her own house, and, she
being freed from the embarrassment of Mrs. Boulte's presence, learned for the
second time her opinion of himself and his actions.
In the evenings, it was the wont of all Kashima to meet at the platform on the
Narkarra Road, to drink tea, and discuss the trivialities of the day. Major
Vansuythen and his wife found themselves alone at the gathering-place for
almost the first time in their remembrance; and the cheery Major, in the teeth
of his wife's remarkably reasonable suggestion that the rest of the Station
might be sick, insisted upon driving round to the two bungalows and unearthing
the population.
"Sitting in the twilight!" said he, with great indignation to the Boultes.
That'll never do! Hang it all, we're one family here! You must come out, and
so must Kurrell. I'll make him bring his banjo." So great is the power of
honest simplicity and a good digestion over guilty consciences that all
Kashima did turn out, even down to the banjo; and the Major embraced the
company in one expansive grin.
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