Free Ultima Thule by Henry Handel Richardson

hovel; the parson in a four-roomed hut with not a foot of ground to it, nor any verandah to keep off the sun. Greatorex's is a palace in comparison. Of course though, as you express yourself so strongly against the four -years' lease, I shall give up all idea of coming to an agreement with him.
    Besides, as I said above, I have practically decided not to remain. Your letter is chiefly responsible for this. I can see you have made up your mind beforehand not to like the place. And if you were unhappy I should be wretched, too, and reproach myself for having dragged you and the children into so outlandish an exile. I quite agree it would be hard work for you with but a single servant- but I can assure you, we should be eyed askance if We tried to keep more. In a place like this, where there is only one standard of living, it would render us most unpopular. But even should you change your mind, my advice would be, not to come for at least three months. By that time I should know better how the practice was shaping. Of course things may look brighter for me when Rummel goes, and I begin to get something to do. I've been here nearly a fortnight now, and he shows no more signs of leaving than at first. He is still attending patients; the people run after him in the streets. He has been extraordinarily popular; which is not to be wondered at, with his good looks and ingratiating manners. Only a few trifling cases have come my way. It is very disheartening. To add to this, I have been feeling anything but well. The change of water has upset me. Then my bedroom is dark and airless; and the noise in the hotel enough to drive one crazy. It goes on till long past midnight and begins again before six.
    Another thing that worries me is the fact that I should be alone of the profession here, if I stayed. I daresay I should get used to it in time; but just now, in my poor state, it would be an additional strain, never to have a second opinion to fall back on. -- I don't need you to tell me, my dear, that a hundred confinements in the year would be stiff work. But they would also mean a princely income. However, I have no intention of dragging you here against your will: and shall now cast about for something else. I heard to-day of a place called Turramungi, where there is only one doctor and he a bit of a duffer. I will go over by coach one morning and see how the land lies.
    But do try and write more cheerfully. I am sure you have no need to be so depressed -- in our pleasant home, and with the children to bear you company. I am sorry to hear you have heard of no likely tenants. We ought to get a rent of at least two hundred, without taxes. As I said before, your wardrobe and the sideboard will have to be sold. Perhaps the incoming tenant will take them.
    The flies are very troublesome to-day. I have constantly to flap my handkerchief while I write.
    Shall hope to send you better news of myself next time.
    R.T.M.
    3
    The Sun Hotel,
    Barambogie.
    My dear Wife,
    A line in great haste. I have just seen an advertisement in the "Argus" calling for applications for medical officer to the Boorandoora Lodge, and have made up my mind to apply. I have written off posthaste for further particulars, in order to get my application in before Friday. After spending close on three weeks here, I have decided once and for all that it would be infinitely more satisfactory to make an extra couple of hundred a year at Hawthorn, with a decent house behind us, than to bury ourselves in this wild bush. A third lodge would give a tremendous fillip to the practice. And the more I see of this place, the less I like it.
    Of course, my application may not be considered. Lambert, who had the Boorandoora last, held it at twenty-one shillings a head, and found medicine. I mean to tender seventeen-and-six, without physic. Graves, I know, won't look at them under twenty. So I think I ought to stand a very good chance. Don't take any further steps about the house in the