"No; I haven't heard. But he'll be over with some of those Brownbie lads. They say Georgie Brownbie's about the country somewhere. If so, there'll be a row among 'em."
"When thieves fall out, Mr. Bates, honest men come by their own."
"So they say, Mr. Heathcote. All the same, I shouldn't care how far Georgie was away from any place I had to do with." Then the young master and his old superintendent sauntered out to his back premises to talk about sheep and fires, and plans for putting out fires. And no doubt Mr. Bates had the glass of brandy-and-water which he had come to regard as one of his Sunday luxuries. From the back premises they went down to the creek to gauge the water. Then they sauntered on, keeping always in the shade, sitting down here to smoke, and standing up there to discuss the pedigree of some particular ram, till it was past six.
"You may as well come in and dine with us, Mr. Bates," Harry suggested, as they returned toward the station.
Mr. Bates said that he thought that he would. As the same invitation was given on almost every Sunday throughout the year, and was invariably answered in the same way, there was not much excitement in this. But Mr. Bates would not have dreamed of going in to dinner without being asked.
"That's Medlicot's trap," said Mr. Bates, as they entered the yard. "I heard wheels when they were in the horse paddock."
Harry looked at the trap, and then went quickly into the house.
He walked with a rapid step onto the veranda, and there he found the sugar grower and his mother. Mrs. Heathcote looked at her husband almost timidly. She knew from the very sound of his feet that he was perturbed in spirit. Under his own roof-tree he would certainly be courteous; but there is a constrained courtesy very hard to be borne, of which she knew him to be capable. He first went up to the old lady, and to her his greeting was pleasant enough. Harry Heathcote, though he had assumed the bush mode of dressing, still retained the manners of a high-bred gentleman in his intercourse with women. Then, turning sharply round, he gave his hand to Mr. Medlicot.
"I am glad to see you at Gangoil," he said; "I was not fortunate enough to be at home when you called the other day. Mrs. Medlicot must have found the drive very hot, I fear."