He looked at me in astonishment and then he smiled.

“You’ve no cause to be jealous,” he said. “It was nothing. She was just there … a woman for the night. It makes no difference to us.”

“You are right. It makes no difference because I am indifferent to what you do. If I had considered your proposal for a moment, let me tell you it would have made a great deal of difference. Please get this clear. I have never had any intention of marrying you, nor shall I ever have. Now will you please leave this room.”

He stood up, smiling at me. Then he laughed.

“You’ve come alive,” he said.

“Get out,” I told him.

He bowed and went to the door.

There he stood looking at me.

“You have to admit that I have done something for you. I’ve put new life into you … even if you do hate me. Never mind. Hate turns to love … at least that sort of hate.”

Then he was gone. I was trembling. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks had lost their pallor. My eyes were blazing.

He was right. I had at last come alive.

In a small house little escapes the attention of the observant and where Gregory Donnelly was concerned Maud was certainly that. She must have seen him come out of my room and a little later she herself came to see me.

She was faintly embarrassed and I could see she was wondering how to say what she wanted to.

She began by asking how I was feeling and I said that I seemed a little better. She was wondering about my plans.

“You wouldn’t want to stay here, I know,” she said. “You wouldn’t want to make a home here.”

“No, indeed not.”

“I was, er … wondering about you … and Greg.”

I felt again those waves of indignation which drew me out of my lethargy.

“What could you be wondering about Mr. Donnelly and myself?” I asked.

“Well, it was just that he gave me the impression that something was fixed up between you.” She looked round the room rather furtively as though expecting eavesdroppers. “If you don’t mind my saying so, I don’t think it would work out very satisfactorily.”

I was on the point of saying that she should have no qualms about that for I had no intention of marrying Gregory Donnelly; but I was interested in her plans for Rosa and I thought she might be more communicative if she thought I was considering him as my husband. I wanted to hear about him; it was so long since I had been interested in anything at all—so I remained silent.

“It isn’t the life for a lady who has been brought up as you have. Of course, he has a way with him.”

Has he? I thought. He has a way of antagonizing me.

“He’s a man who would always dominate a woman and I don’t think you are the sort to stand for that.”

“Yes,” I said, “you wanted him for Rosa.”

She flushed. “Who told you that?”

“Rosa. She seemed to think it was more or less settled.”

She was clearly embarrassed.

I said: “Don’t worry. It came out quite naturally. She seems to think he is wonderful. I am sure he would like that.”

“He is very fond of Rosa,” she said almost defiantly.

“I am sure he is. She is a charming girl.”

“It was a sort of understood thing …”

“You mean an arranged betrothal?”

“We hadn’t said much about it. It was understood. Rosa is a cut above the rest of the women here. You’ve seen her; you’ve seen them. I’ve given her a bit of education and she is very pretty. He wants a wife who’s not just anybody …”

“Well,” I said, “if Rosa admires him and he likes to bask in her admiration, I think it would work out very well.”

“So did I … but now …”

“You mean when I came along?”

She was silent.

“I had more to offer, of course. I was my father’s daughter …” My voice broke a little, but I went on: “I now own property in England. You see I am a very good catch for an ambitious man.” She cast down her eyes and I went on: “Don’t worry. He’s Rosa’s if she wants him. I have no intention of marrying him.”

She looked up swiftly.

“He’s determined,” she said. “He’s a man who gets his way.”

“I daresay he has succeeded very well in that. But when he meets someone who is equally determined to have her own way there is nothing he can do.”

She shook her head disbelievingly.

“It is so, Maud,” I said. “What I don’t understand is why you should want him for Rosa. She is a gentle, innocent girl. Could you let her go to a man like that?”

“He’d be good to her … if she were a good wife to him. And she would be. I’d see to that.”

“You should know this man to whom you propose to marry your daughter. He has asked me to marry him. This was some time ago before …” I paused and could not go on for a few moments. Then: “He asked me and I refused. That night he spent with the midwife.”

“He is a man,” she said.

“You have a very poor opinion of his sex.”

“If he had a wife he would be different.”

“I doubt it. He is promiscuous naturally. That sort doesn’t change.”

“My Rosa is a lovely girl. I want the best for her. I don’t want her to have just one of the cowboys, the sheep-shearers, the hired hands. Greg is a big man out here. In a few years he’ll be right at the top. That’s what I want for Rosa.”

“You are being very frank with me, Maud,” I said. “I will be with you. Soon I shall be going home. I doubt I shall ever come here again. I have no intention of marrying Gregory Donnelly. In fact the idea is quite repulsive to me. Please set your mind at rest. If you are prepared to take such a man as your son-in-law, you are welcome as far as I am concerned. I understand that life might be hard for Rosa and that you want to make it as comfortable for her as you can, but I cannot imagine a woman having a comfortable life with that man.”

“I know men,” she said. “And I know Greg. He’s ambitious. Perhaps that’s first with him—but it is what I want. I want Rosa to have her own home and a carriage to ride in. I want her to be the lady of the property. I’ve suffered hardship with her father and I don’t want any of that for Rosa.”

“I understand, Maud. So put your mind at rest. Soon I shall be gone. Don’t have any fear that I might spoil Rosa’s chances.”

“You are so vehement about him.”

“I feel vehement. I don’t happen to admire men who are so besotted by property that they would do anything to get it. I don’t accept this promiscuity as you do.”

“You haven’t lived in a place like this where women are scarce. Men are men all the world over …”

“I shall keep to my view. I am going to start making plans now.”

“He won’t accept it.”

“It is not for him to accept. It is my affair.”

“He always gets his way.”

“This is one instance when he won’t.”

“He’ll find a way.”

I shook my head.

“He was ready to wait for Rosa … until you came.”

“He can go on waiting for Rosa. When did you propose the marriage should take place?”

“She is only fifteen. I have been thinking of when she is sixteen but that is a little young. Rosa is young for her age. I had been thinking of her seventeenth birthday but when you came I thought it was a long time to wait. Anything can happen in a few weeks.”

“Don’t worry, Maud. Oh dear, this has been a frank conversation.”

“I didn’t mean it to be. I just wanted to know …”

“Whether I was going to accept him. Have no fear. I assure you again and again the answer is most definitely No.”

“But he won’t take No for an answer. He never has done. He won’t let anything stand in the way of what he wants.”

“You’ll see,” I said.

She stood up. “Thank you for letting me talk to you and thank you for being so understanding.”

“I’m glad I know exactly how you feel. Don’t worry any more. In a short time I shall be gone.”

“He’ll never let you go.”

“That, Maud, is a matter for me to decide.”

She left me, still worrying, I was sure, unable to accept that this god-like creature could ever be thwarted.

Once again I had forgotten my grief for a brief spell. I was certainly stimulated by this battle with Gregory Donnelly; and I wondered how a loving mother could actually wish her daughter married to a man whom she knew as well as I did.

I received a letter from a lawyer in Sydney in which he informed me that my father had been considering selling the Australian property to the manager, Mr. Gregory Donnelly, and he thought I might think it a good idea to put the sale into negotiation. He had written to my father’s solicitors in England who were in agreement with him, and in view of the tragedy, the sale seemed desirable. It was unwise to have property so far from home, the place had been excellently managed over the years and it seemed only right to sell it to the man who had done so much to make it prosperous.

I read the letter through several times. It was what Gregory wanted. Only he would prefer to marry me and not have to buy it. It seemed to me that I could make my feelings clear by agreeing to the sale and accepting the offer he had made.

That day, for the first time after my illness, I went out riding. I felt very feeble and could not stay long in the saddle. I thought of the long journey back to Sydney and then there would be the exhausting business of getting on the ship which would take me home. It seemed that they were right when they said I must get stronger. I had suffered from a virulent fever and goodness knows what else. Being in a debilitated state during those weeks I had been conscious of a death wish and had cursed the fates which had prevented my joining my parents and brother in their watery grave.