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Updated: May 21, 2025
'No doubt, Mr McKeith, you'll spare me half an hour in the office by and by. Just to concert our measures for the proper protection of the Pastoralists and the safeguarding of the woolsheds this shearing season. 'Yes, yes, or course, McKeith answered mechanically. The spunk had gone out of him, as Harris would have phrased it; and the Inspector, looking at Lady Bridget, guessed the reason.
And she had let Colin McKeith believe that Bridget O'Hara was the embodiment of his Ideal height five foot seven at the least: weight ten stone or more: smooth-parted, Greek-coiled hair: a cross between a goddess and a Madonna that was Colin's Ideal Good Heavens! What did he now behold? A very little woman. One of the snippets he despised. Not an ounce of the traditional dignity about her.
The finely-modelled brows and shadowy eyes were as beautiful as when Colin McKeith had first beheld his goddess stepping on to Australian earth. But for all that, a change had taken place in her a different one from the indefinable yet significant change which is felt in almost every woman after marriage.
A touch of dengue in tropical Australia may be serious or the reverse sharp and short and critical, or tedious and less dangerous. Lady Bridget's case was the sharp, short kind demanding prompt treatment. When McKeith came home the following day, he found her delirious, and incapable of recognizing him.
McKeith paused after lugging down two squatters' chairs the first house carpentering he had done for his wife after their arrival at the head-station, and in which, he had resolved, no future owner of Moongarr should ever sit. That was the thought fiercely possessing him. Rough chairs and tables and such-like that had been there always, might remain.
Lady Bridget watched the evening meal being prepared between the two fires only watched, for she was sternly forbidden to set hand to it. 'No canned goods, nor cooked food, McKeith said, were allowed at this lay-out. Moongarr Bill was first-class at frying steak.
Or if she had not been so absorbed in her subject and her cigarette she might have noticed that Mrs Gildea had looked up quickly a minute before and given a mute signal to the intruder not to interrupt the conversation untowardly. Lady Bridget recovered herself as Colin McKeith mounted the steps and made the two ladies a rather self-conscious salute.
'That's a good bit of how I looked on you though I've never made much out of Wagner he isn't human enough for me.... And how could I have dreamed then that you'd ever let me come as near you as I am this evening! 'I must say, Mr McKeith, you haven't shown such extreme diffidence in approaching me. 'Ah!
A little to the rear stood a lanky, muscular bushman in very dirty moleskins, with a smooth loose-lipped face, no eyelashes, and a scowling forehead, who was evidently the worse for drink; next to him, a shorter man of the drover type, older, eagle-beaked and with sinister, foxy eyes. This one hailed McKeith. 'Yah! Look at him and his spanking team!
There's no occasion for you to go against her ladyship's wishes. Harris touched his helmet to Lady Bridget and, leering with veiled enmity, replied: 'I'm never one to put myself up against the ladies, except where my duty comes first and that's not the case yet. But as I was saying, with my respects, my lady, Mr McKeith knows very well how to treat the blacks.
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