“And I’m in danger of losing mine.”

He laughed, not in the pleasant happy way to which I had become accustomed, but disagreeably. His face hardened and his eyes glinted; he squared his shoulders and looked invincible.

“Perhaps,” he said, ‘it is time you and I came to an understanding.

You have to realize that I am master in my own house. “

“Does that mean that I am not to speak unless spoken to?”

“I shall always be glad for you to speak when you have something sensible to say. But you must understand without delay that I expect obedience from my wife. “

This was not like the lover I had known. This was the arrogant man of whom I had been aware and resented when I first came to Australia. No, I thought. I shall not be the meek wife he wants. I shall be myself and if I have an opinion I am not going to deny it simply because he doesn’t share it. He might have his desires for revenge with which he was not going to allow me to interfere—well, I had my integrity, my determination to preserve myself as an individual, and much as I loved him, much as my being called out for a return to the old tenderness. I was not going to pay the price he was asking for it.

I said: “If you imagine you will get a meek yes from me to everything you say you have made a mistake. In fact I am beginning to think that our marriage may have been a mistake.”

“You are in a frivolous mood tonight,” he said lightly.

“Your success with the ladies and gentlemen of Melbourne has gone to your head.”

“I am completely serious and this has nothing to do with the ladies and gentlemen of Melbourne. It is a matter between us two. I will not agree with all your views. I cannot regard you as my lord and master whose word must be law and whose opinion is always right because he is a man and I am a woman.”

“Did I ever ask you to be such an insipid fool?”

“It seems you are telling me that is what you expect.”

“Which shows how illogical you are. You know I like to hear your opinions, but I will not have you dictating to me on matters of major importance. I’ve had enough of this. Let’s go to bed.”

But I stood my ground firmly. I knew that we could not dismiss the matter as simply as that. It would be a continual irritation between us. I could see it building up to a great barrier.

“I must discuss this with you.”

“I have said I have nothing to discuss.”

“So you plan to go to England, to acquire Whiteladies and not talk it over with me.”

“If you are going to be sensible …”

“That’s what I am trying to be. I know this is wrong.”

“Stop talking rubbish.” He caught my arm.

“You look so pretty tonight;. The dress is most becoming.”

He started to unhook it but I swung away from him.

“No,” I said.

“I will not be treated in this way.”

I ran into the dressing-room. He was startled and I had locked the door before he reached it. There were tears in my eyes. At least I had prevented his seeing them. I had a feeling that he would despise tears.

It’s changed, I thought. The honeymoon is over. My relationship with him was not what I had thought it to be.

I sat down on the small bed and thought about Stirling. Did he really love me? Yes! I answered myself. Remember when we lay in the cave. But his father had said: “Stand aside. I want her.” So Stirling stood aside. And now Lynx was saying to me: “You will do as I say. You will take your share in my grand plan for revenge.” And although my brain said:

“It is wrong and no good can come of it,” my heart was crying out:

“What does it matter? You will be with him and he will go on loving you. But if you defy him …”

And there was a vision of Jessica holding the sandalwood box in her hands.

“Plenty of room …”

Oh yes, the honeymoon was over.

I had spent a sleepless night. I had lain on that uncomfortable bed, having removed my satin dress, hoping that he would knock at the door and beg me to come out. But he did not. It was I who unlocked the door next morning.

He was sitting in a chair reading when I went in. I was in my petticoat, carrying my satin dress.

“Ah,” he said, ‘the woman of principles. ” His mood had changed. He was no longer angry and the tenderness had come back in spite of the words.

“I trust, madam,” he went on, ‘that you had a comfortable night. “

“Hardly that,” I retorted, catching his mood.

“Remorse?”

“A very hard mattress.”

“And you prefer a feather bed.”

“In certain circumstances.”

He laughed.

“My poor child! What a brute I am! I should have insisted that you leave your hard mattress, but you were so full of determination to defend the rights of women and freedom of decision—so what could I do?”

“Nothing. You knew I was determined at all costs.”

“Now you wish to bathe and dress. While you are doing so I will order breakfast to be sent up to us. Are you agreeable to this or would you like to put in any your suggestions? “

“I am perfectly agreeable.”

I was happy. It was not the end. I had been foolish. I must be less blatant. I must persuade him gently, subtly.

We sat at the table which had been wheeled in. I poured out coffee while he served bacon and devilled kidneys from the chafing dishes.

There was a cosy intimacy about the scene which made me happy.

“Now,” he said, ‘we’ll discuss this matter in a civilized manner. We have a difference of opinion. I say that we are going to England and our children will play on the lawns of Whiteladies. My grandchildren will be there with my son and daughter, for Stirling will marry and Adelaide will join us in due course. Whiteladies is not yet in my possession. It maybe a little difficult to arrange, but I always enjoyed surmounting difficulties. Now you, Nora, have your own puritan ideas. To settle old scores seems pagan to you.

“An eye for an eye,” say I. You say.

“Turn the other cheek.” But this is my affair. I have to fight for Whiteladies and I shall have an opponent in my own family—my wife. It’s a situation which appeals to me. “

“So you are going to England.”

“We are going to England.”

“And you are going to acquire this house.”

“By wicked crook or evil hook, remember. And if you are going to stop me—well, Nora, that gives an added fillip to the affair. You are going to show me why I should not acquire Whiteladies. I am going to show you why I should.”

“So you are not going to put from you a wife who does not mildly agree that you are always right?”

“Of what use would such a creature be to me? All things considered, I am reasonably satisfied with my Nora. She can be obstinate at times; she can be arrogant; but what maddens me most is this piety of hers, that missionary spirit . “

“And what maddens me,” I said, ‘is my husband’s irritating habit of talking in my presence as though I am absent. “

“Then we both madden each other, which is as it should be.”

“And you have decided graciously to pardon a wife who doesn’t think her husband omnipotent and omniscient?”

“I have come to the conclusion that I love the girl and that means I’ll endure a great deal. In fact I am looking forward to some sturdy battles with Nora preaching turn the other cheek; and all the time I shall be showing her how happy she can be in her English mansion. “

“I shall never agree with you.”

“I know,” he said.

“Well, we’ll start our journey back today. We have our preparations to make.”

“Preparations….”

“For England and the battle between us.”

We left Melbourne that day. There was a compromise between us. I would plunge into my preparations; we were leaving for England in March of the following year, it had been decided—Stirling, Lynx and myself, plus the servants we should need. I would make no objections to these preparations. My task was to persuade Lynx to abandon his plan for taking Whiteladies when the time came.

He never told me what his plans were. I believe he told Stirling. I felt a little shut out; but I stifled that resentment. I was determined that we were not going to take Whiteladies from its owners.

Not that I saw how we could. These were not medieval times when castles were taken by force. I would persuade Lynx to buy the house that I wanted. I visualized it-grand and gracious. It would have to satisfy him. But whenever I pictured it it always took the form of Whiteladies.

We were approaching the end of summer and the winds were both cool and fierce. I would hear them whistling across the bush; they rattled our windows and buffeted the house as though they were trying to tear up its foundations.

When I rode out, usually with Lynx, sometimes with Adelaide, never with Stirling whom I now rarely saw, I would shudder at the damage which the fires had done, although many of the trees were not entirely dead and in due course would recover.

Lynx and I had returned to our old relationship, though perhaps we bantered more than we had just after our wedding. He liked to argue with me and enjoyed my having a different point of view. This delighted me. I ceased to fret over his obsession with revenge, for I was certain that I could turn him from it.

We had by no means shelved the matter. We often talked of Whiteladies—but he never explained to me how he hoped to wrest it from its owners.

How suddenly violent life could be in this country! Death was never far away.

That bright sunny morning I was riding out with him n-the mine. We were not alone. Stirling was with us, also two or three of the men from the mine. Lynx had recently sold out most of his share and was keeping only a small interest.