"Come away, boys," and hustling the two of us out the door, the Governor banged it angrily, and went back to the dining-room.
Meantime, the governess in night attire had joined mother. and from the look in the face of big Mary, you’d think the homestead was being attacked by the blacks—which, by the way, did happen a few months later. But that is another story.
"Nothing the matter with them at all," the Governor assured mother, with a smile, And sat at the table again.
Mother was thankful, and sighed in relief.
"They'd be sent off to live with the blacks, or do what they liked, if I was their master... disturbing people's rest, and bringing them out of bed the way they do!" And big Mary gathered herself together and waddled back to bed again. Ted returned to the couch.
Then there was a long silence.
"It's as bright and clear as day outside, Edward." mother said, gazing dreamily through the open window into the moonlight, that soft, eerie, mystic moonlight of the bushland. And her voice seemed filled with sadness.
"We get some beautiful moonlights here, my dear," the Governor said.
"The trees beside the creek, and the shadows out there beneath the mountain, do remind me of Warwickshire."
"Yes—ah, yes! But I think it's bedtime, my dear," and the Governor rose from the table.
