Free Lillipilly Hill by Eleanor Spence

same.’
    â€˜What’s the baby’s name?’ asked Harriet, peering at the child with polite interest. Unlike Rose-Ann, who still cherished a whole family of dolls, Harriet was not fond of babies, and this one seemed a rather meagre and unattractive specimen.
    â€˜That’s our Steve,’ said Mrs O’Brien proudly, lifting the child from the tub and setting him on asack to dry him. ‘It’s hard work thinking of names for all these boys, I can tell you. Naming Dinny was a real treat. Diana Elizabeth Agnes, she is—it was the prettiest name I could think of. It’s a pity she ain’t pretty to go with it.’
    Dinny was quite unconcerned by this remark, but Harriet came loyally to her friend’s defence.
    â€˜Oh, but she is pretty! See how curly her hair is!’
    â€˜Well, she’ll have to do, I suppose,’ said Dinny’s mother. ‘I hear you Wilmots are here to stay—is that right?’
    â€˜Yes,’ answered Harriet, surprised by the directness of the question. Apparently the entire township knew of the Wilmots’ affairs.
    â€˜It’s a bit lonely for your mother, I reckon. The other Mrs Wilmot used to drive round in her buggy, visiting all her friends. An’ she’d spend weeks in Sydney, sometimes. But then she had no children to think of.’
    Mrs O’Brien seemed ready to talk all morning, and it was with some difficulty that Harriet managed to edge away.
    â€˜We’ll be late if we don’t go now,’ she said. ‘Thank you very much for the bread.’
    â€˜No trouble,’ Mrs O’Brien assured her, following them to the door, with Steve tucked under one arm. ‘Come again.’
    â€˜Ma likes to talk,’ said Dinny, as they hurried back along the road. ‘Last person to visit was a swaggie, an’ he never said a word. Ma must of took to you straight off—telling you my real name an’ everything.’
    â€˜I like your mother,’ said Harriet thoughtfully, as they crossed the playground. There was no more time to talk, as the bell rang just then, but Harriet did not soon forget her meeting with Mrs O’Brien. Somehow the bareness and poorness of the house in the clearing ceased to matter, when she remembered Mrs O’Brien’s cheerful good spirits.
    On the following day, which was Saturday, Harriet paid a visit of a very different nature. This was to the Rectory, a full-dress occasion demanding white muslins and coloured sashes and cotton gloves, all of which Harriet hated, and Rose-Ann relished. As the buggy would only hold three in any comfort, Mr and Mrs Wilmot and Rose-Ann drove, while Aidan and Harriet walked.
    It was a still, grey, clouded afternoon, humid and heavy with the promise of rain. The bush was completely quiet.
    â€˜I’d much rather walk, anyway,’ said Harriet with satisfaction. ‘It will make our visit shorter, too. Did Father tell you, Aidan, that Polly isn’t to take us to school any more? He says we are old enough to look after ourselves, and Polly’s too busy.’
    Aidan frowned. Much as he disliked being escorted by a servant-girl, he had to admit that Polly’s presence gave him a certain amount of protection from his tormentors, from Paddy Tolly in particular. Harriet was quite shrewd enough to read his thoughts.
    â€˜But from Monday Charles Farmer will be back at school, and you could go some of the way with him. I know a much shorter path to school, and it goes past the church.’
    â€˜How did you find it?’ asked Aidan, with some interest.
    â€˜Dinny showed me. It goes down the hill near the cowshed. Only it’s all overgrown.’
    â€˜We could ask Boz to clear it,’ suggested Aidan.
    â€˜We could clear it ourselves,’ said Harriet sturdily. ‘It would be worth the trouble, wouldn’t it?’
    And Aidan had to agree that it would.
    Barley Creek seemed to be totally deserted.