How far, how widely, the roving Englishman wandered in his quest for fame or fortune, was abundantly demonstrated by the number and quality of the ‘Legion that never was listed,’ on that auspicious day. Such companies and troops—rank upon rank, as they closed round the champion of the day—the first Australasian horse that had ever won against Britain’s best ‘chasers,’ in the classic race of world-wide fame that had no fellow in the contests of horse and man since the world began.
Mrs. Banneret, recalling her Flemington experiences on Cup Day, had arranged for a symposium on a novel and comprehensive scale—to take place after the great event of the day. Notwithstanding the widely differing conditions of the respective race-courses, she determined, with the co-operation of her husband and sons, to have something like a representative Australian function, worthy of her country’s hospitable customs and of this truly memorable occasion.
Having persuaded several of their most intimate friends to have their carriages standing fairly close to each other, a sort of ‘corral’ was arranged, within which a clear space was left free.
This gave room for tressels, upon which were placed temporary tables, rather long and narrow, but capable of holding such meats, wines, and other refreshments as are usually dispensed at races. Of course some diplomatic management was necessary to carry through an innovation foreign to the traditionary, time-honoured habitudes of English race-goers. With the help of a few extra police (the Inspector had been in Australia) and a small army of waiters, supplied by the caterer, a reasonable compromise was arrived at. A calculation was made, by which it could be demonstrated that if even a third more than the number of expected guests arrived, they could be supplied with seats and a liberal supply of the delicacies of the season, together with a few glasses of ‘Dry Monopole,’ or, having regard to the lower temperature of Britain, with a ‘touch of the real Mackay.’
It was well that the calculation did not fail on the elastic side; for when it leaked out that Arnold Banneret, sometime of Carjagong, New South Wales, and more recently of Pilot Mount, West Australia, was entertaining his friends, had won largely, indeed, on the victory of Moifaa, it was wonderful what a number of colonists turned up. Among them were Lord Newstead and his lovely wife, the latter in her priceless Russian sables, and otherwise appropriately adorned. She was so glad to meet her husband’s kind, good friends, whose chance meeting with Percy and poor dear Southwater had been so fortunate for both. She hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Banneret and the girls would pay her a visit at Newstead. As for Mr. Reginald and Mr. Eric, if they could spare the time, they would know—young men being so scarce just now—how welcome they would be at her country house, or, indeed, any other. She believed she would really take a run over to that delightful Golden West some day—where, apparently, the precious metal was lying about in heaps, waiting to be picked up.