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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Heaven send us strength to bear them! Good-morning." "Why, you are going our way," said Mrs. Jellicoe. "We can walk together." "Delighted! I am going to call on Major Vickers." "And I live within a stone's throw," returned Mrs. Protherick. "What a charming little creature she is, isn't she?" "Who?" asked Mr. Meekin, as they walked. "Sylvia. You don't know her! Oh, a dear little thing."
"Yes," struck in Mrs. Protherick, eager to have a share in the storytelling. "She doesn't remember anything about the three or four weeks they were ashore at least, not distinctly." "It's a great mercy!" interrupted Mrs. Jellicoe, determined to keep the post of honour. "Who wants her to remember these horrors? From Captain Frere's account, it was positively awful!" "You don't say so!" said Mr.
Protherick the Trail of the Serpent " and he sighed. "It must be a great trial to you to come to the colony," said Mrs. Jellicoe, sympathizing with the sigh. Meekin smiled, as a gentlemanly martyr might have smiled. "The Lord's work, dear leddies the Lord's work. I am but a poor labourer in the vineyard, toiling through the heat and burden of the day."
Instead of a quiet dinner at which his own household, his daughter's betrothed, and the stranger clergyman only should be present, the Major found himself entangled with Mesdames Protherick and Jellicoe, Mr. McNab of the garrison, and Mr. Pounce of the civil list. His quiet Christmas dinner had grown into an evening party. The conversation was on the usual topic.
"Wull," said McNab to Sylvia, "I don't think Prauvidence had any thocht o' caunveect deesiplin whun He created the cauleny o' Van Deemen's Lan'." "Neither do I," said Sylvia. "I don't know," says Mrs. Protherick. "Poor Protherick used often to say that it seemed as if some Almighty Hand had planned the Penal Settlements round the coast, the country is so delightfully barren."
"Here it is," returned Meekin, producing a packet; "and when the cloth is removed, I will ask permission of the ladies to read it aloud. It is most interesting." A glance of surprise passed between the ladies Protherick and Jellicoe. The idea of a convict's letter proving interesting! Mr. Meekin was new to the ways of the place. Frere, turning the packet between his finger, read the address:
Protherick, the widow of a Superintendent of Convicts' Barracks, with a stately indignation mantling in her sallow cheeks. "I am ordinarily the most patient creature breathing, but I do confess that the stupid vicious wretches that one gets are enough to put a saint out of temper." "We have all our crosses, dear leddies all our crosses," said the Rev. Mr. Meekin piously.
Meekin's elegant hat was raised from his intellectual brow and hovered in the air, like some courteous black bird, for an instant. "Mrs. Jellicoe! Mrs. Protherick! My dear leddies, this is an unexpected pleasure! And where, pray, are you going on this lovely afternoon? To stay in the house is positively sinful. Ah! what a climate but the Trail of the Serpent, my dear Mrs.
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