Grannie came out to question me regarding the sex, age, condition, and species of the sheep, what was their destination, whether they were in search of grass or were for sale, had they spread or eaten much grass, and had the men been civil?

When I had satisfactorily informed her on all these points, she bade me have something to cat, to bathe and dress, and gave me a holiday for the remainder of the day.

My hair was grey with dust, so I washed all over, arrayed myself in a cool white dress, and throwing myself in a squatter’s chair in the veranda, spread my hair over the back of it to dry.  Copies of Gordon, Kendall, and Lawson were on my lap, but I was too physically content and comfortable to indulge in even these, my sworn friends and companions.  I surrendered myself to the mere joy of being alive.  How the sunlight blazed and danced in the roadway—­the leaves of the gum-trees gleaming in it like a myriad gems!  A cloud of white, which I knew to be cockatoos, circled over the distant hilltop.  Nearer they wheeled until I could hear their discordant screech.  The thermometer on the wall rested at 104 degrees despite the dense shade thrown on the broad old veranda by the foliage of creepers, shrubs, and trees.  The gurgling rush of the creek, the scent of the flower-laden garden, and the stamp, stamp of a horse in the orchard as he attempted to rid himself of tormenting flies, filled my senses.  The warmth was delightful.  Summer is heavenly, I said—­life is a joy.

Aunt Helen’s slender fingers looked artistic among some pretty fancy-work upon which she was engaged.  Bright butterflies flitted round the garden, and thousands of bees droned lazily among the flowers.  I closed my eyes—­my being filled with the beauty of it all.

I could hear grannie’s pen fly over the paper as she made out a list of Christmas supplies on a table near me.

“Helen, I suppose a hundredweight of currants will he sufficient ?”

“Yes; I should think so.”

“Seven dozen yards of unbleached calico be enough?”

“Yes; plenty.”

“Which tea-service did you order?”

“Number two.”

“Do you or Sybylla want anything extra?”

“Yes; parasols, gloves, and some books.”

“Books!  Can I get them at Hordern’s?”

“Yes.”

Grannie’s voice faded on my ears, my thoughts ran on uncle Jay-Jay.  He had promised to be home in time for my birthday spread, and I was sure he had a present for me.  What would it be?—­something nice.  He would be nearly sure to bring someone home with him from Cummabella, and we would have games and fun to no end.  I was just seventeen, only seventeen, and had a long, long life before me wherein to enjoy myself.  Oh, it was good to be alive!  What a delightful place the world was!—­so accommodating, I felt complete mistress of it.  It was like an orange—­I merely had to squeeze it and it gave forth sweets plenteously.  The stream