Free Ultima Thule by Henry Handel Richardson Page A

meanwhile.
    Since I wrote last I have had a little more to do. I was called out several miles yesterday. And the people I went to told me that if I had not been here, they would have sent for the man at Turramungi. So you see Rummel is not persona grata everywhere. He is still about, and as much in my way as ever; for as long as he is on the spot, people won't consult any one else. I wish to God I had not been in such a hurry to come. However, one thing makes me more hopeful: the date of his auction is fixed at last, for Monday next.
    In haste
    Your own
    R.T.M.
    4
    The Sun Hotel,
    Barambogie.
    My darling Mary,
    So you approve, do you, of my idea of putting in for the Boorandoora? I got the information I wanted from the Secretary of the lodge; and if I resolve to offer my services, shall do so for the sum I named. It is all very well, my dear, to talk about it being beneath my dignity to underbid others, and to ask how I myself should once have characterised such a proceeding. (Personally, I think you might keep remarks of this kind to yourself.) What I do is done for your sake. If I could get this third lodge, it might save you having to turn out and part with your furniture; and to make that possible I am ready to sacrifice my professional pride. There are so many others, younger men than I, who are only too ready to step in. And I look on it as my sole remaining chance to earn a decent livelihood within reach of civilisation.
    However, I must confess, I have again become somewhat undecided. The fact is, Rummel has gone at last: and he gave me his word, on leaving, that he would never come back. The auction took place as arranged; house and ground selling for a hundred and ninety pounds. Since he went, I have been genuinely busy. The parson is ill with inflammation of the liver; and I was called out yesterday a distance of five miles. The hire of a buggy costs seven-and-six -- less than half what I had to pay in Hawthorn. This afternoon I go by train to Mirrawarra, and shall walk back. It becomes daily more evident to me that there is a very fine practice to be done here. And every one I meet implores me to stay. Some, indeed, grow quite plaintive at the idea of losing me.
    I have also had a pleasant surprise about the house. Greatorex now says he is willing to let for three years instead of four, if I pay the first year's rent in advance. This seems to me an extremely fair offer. You see it would only be like paying a small sum down for the practice. I am going over the house with him again to-morrow, and will then let you know what I decide. The point at issue is, should I not do better to accept this certain opening, with all its drawbacks, than take the uncertain chance of Hawthorn with a third lodge . . . if I get it!
    Your very own
    R.T.M.
    5
    The Sun Hotel,
    Barambogie.
    My own dear Wife,
    Well! the die is east; I have finally made up my mind to remain in Barambogie. I did not put in for the lodge after all, but resolved to give this place a further ten days' trial. And well that I did! For the practice has looked up with a vengeance: it is now as plain as a pikestaff that I have capital prospects here, and should be a fool indeed to let them slide. If I had not popped in when I did, there would certainly have been others -- and, for that matter, I am still not quite sure there may not be another settling. In the meantime I am seeing fresh patients daily, and have not had my clothes off for the past two nights. The day before yesterday I was called ten miles out to attend a case which Guthrie of Coora has neglected: and I have been bespoken for three future events. This morning I drove seven miles into the bush; for which I shall charge five guineas. In the month I have been here -- ten days without Rummel -- I have taken fifteen pounds and booked close on fifty. What do you think of that? I feel quite sure I shall easily touch a thousand a year. Of course it will mean hard work, but the mere prospect of such a thing