She opened her door and strolled out upon the verandah. It was a glorious afternoon; the sun, shining through the trailing masses of tecoma on the posts, was enough to charm away even bad temper. A sudden thought came to her, and she turned back into her room, to emerge presently dressed for riding. Olaf was in the stable, she knew. Why should she not take him out? Mrs. Macleay was the only person likely to interfere with her, and she was safely in the kitchen. Merle ran across to the stable yard, almost cheerfully.
She called O'Mara, but received no answer; and then remembered that she had seen him go out, driving Mr. Macleay. Well, it did not matter. It was easy enough to saddle Olaf without help. She mounted and rode down towards the lake, looking out for the children. They were playing with nanna near the bank, and she trotted along to them.
"Where's you goin', Merle?" demanded Bobby.
"I'm going to meet the boys," Merle said. "You can tell Mrs. Macleay, nanna, if she asks for me."
"Boss, him be cross this pfeller if you go far," she protested. "Mine thinkit baal you go all by you'se'f, Missy Merle."
"Dad'll be jolly wild wiv you--an' so'll mummy," said Bobby warningly.
"I don't care. I'm not going far, anyhow. The boys'll be home soon. I'm sure to meet them in the Middle Plain."
"Boss him say baal you go out on yarraman (horse) 'less he go longa you," said nanna. "Mine thinkit better you get off."
She put out a hand to the bridle. But Merle was too quick for her; a touch of her heel, and Olaf sprang aside. She cantered off along the track, turning to laugh at them. Bobby's woeful little face touched her a little.
"Never mind, old chap," she called to him. "I'll bring Dick home, and we'll have a game."
She cantered across the first two paddocks. The boys should be home soon now, she thought; better fun not to meet them too near the home stead, in the smaller paddocks, where they could not have a good gallop. Out on the plain they might put up a hare, and a racing spin over the grass would be some compensation for the disappointment of her day. Olaf was very fresh; she gave him his head when she had shut the last gate, and soon was far out in the open. Once she thought she caught sight of the boys in a clump of trees, and rode away from the track to see; but, though she beat through the trees, thinking they were hiding from her, she found only a big shorthorn bullock, which lumbered off at her approach. There was still no sign of the boys as she emerged again upon the plain; she stared ahead fruitlessly. Had she glanced back she might have seen two racing figures making for the homestead: Dick and Macleod, getting the last ounce they could out of their horses. But it did not occur to Merle to look back. She touched Olaf impatiently, and again cantered forward.