A Bride from the Bush. Hornung Ernest William

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      It was another rather awkward moment, for it did seem as though Gladys was disagreeably independent. And Alfred, of all people, made the moment more awkward still, and, indeed, more uncomfortable than any that had preceded it.

      ‘Gladdie,’ he exclaimed in his airiest manner, ‘you’re a savage! A regular savage, as I’ve told you over and over again!’

      No one said anything. Gladys smiled, and Alfred chuckled over his pleasantry. But it was a pleasantry that contained a most unpleasant truth. The others felt this, and it made them silent. It was a relief to all – with the possible exception of the happy pair, neither of whom appeared to be over-burdened with self-consciousness – when Lady Bligh carried off Gladys, and delivered her in her own room into the safe keeping of Miss Bunn, her appointed maid.

      This girl, Bunn, presently appeared in the servants’ hall, sat down in an interesting way, and began to twirl her thumbs with great ostentation. Being questioned, in fulfilment of her artless design, she said that she was not wanted upstairs. Being further questioned, she rattled off a string of the funny things Mrs ‘Halfred’ had said to her along with a feeble imitation of Mrs ‘Halfred’s’ very funny way of saying them. This is not a matter of importance; but it was the making of Bunn below stairs; so long as Mrs Alfred remained in the house, her maid’s popularity as a kitchen entertainer was assured.

      The Bride wished to be alone; at all events she desired no personal attendance. What should she want with a maid? A lady’s-maid was a ‘fixing’ she did not understand, and did not wish to understand; she had said so plainly, and that she didn’t see where Miss Bunn ‘came in’; and then Miss Bunn had gone out, in convulsions. And now the Bride was alone at last, and stood pensively gazing out of her open window at the wonderful green trees and the glittering river, at the deep cool shadows and the pale evening sky; and delight was in her bold black eyes; yet a certain sense of something not quite as it ought to be – a sensation at present vague and undefined – made her graver than common. And so she stood until the door was burst suddenly open, and a long arm curled swiftly round her waist, and Alfred kissed her.

      ‘My darling! tell me quickly – ’

      ‘Stop!’ said Gladys. ‘I’ll bet I guess what it is you want me to tell you! Shall I?’

      ‘Yes, if you can, for I certainly do want you to tell me something.’

      ‘Then it’s what I think of your people!’

      ‘How you like them,’ Alfred amended. ‘Yes, that was it. Well, then?’

      ‘Well, then – I like your mother. She has eyes like yours, Alfred, large and still and kind, and she is big and motherly.’

      ‘Then, oh, my darling, why on earth didn’t you kiss her?’

      ‘Kiss her? Not me! Why should I?’

      ‘She meant to kiss you; I saw she did.’

      ‘Don’t you believe it! Even if she had, it would have been only for your sake. You wait a little bit; wait till she knows me, and if she wants to kiss me then – let her!’

      Alfred was pained by his young wife’s tone; he had never before heard her speak so strangely, and her eyes were wistful. He did not quite understand her, but he did not try to, then; he varied the subject.

      ‘How about Gran?’

      ‘Oh, that Gran!’ cried Gladys. ‘I can’t suffer him at all.’

      ‘Can’t suffer Gran! What on earth do you mean, Gladys?’

      ‘I mean that he was just a little beast in the boat! You think he was as glad to see you as you were him, because you judge by yourself; but not a bit of it; I know better. It was all put on with him, and a small “all” too. Then you asked him to tell me about the places we passed, and he only laughed at me. Ah, you may laugh at people without moving a muscle, but people may see it all the same; and I did, all along; and just before we got here I very near told him so. If I had, I’d have given him one, you stake your life!’

      ‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ said Alfred devoutly, but in great trouble. ‘I never heard him say anything to rankle like that; I thought he was very jolly, if you ask me. And really, Gladdie, old Gran’s as good a fellow as ever lived; besides which, he has all the brains of the family.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ said Gladys, softening, ‘my old man has got a double share of something better than brains!’

      ‘Nonsense, darling! But at least the Judge was pleasant; what did you think of the Judge?’

      ‘I funked him.’

      ‘Good gracious! Why?’

      ‘He’s so dreadfully dignified; and he looks you through and through – not nastily, like Gran does, but as if you were something funny in a glass case.’

      ‘What stuff and nonsense, Gladdie! You’re making me miserable. Look here: talk to the Judge: draw him out a bit. That’s all he wants, and he likes it.’

      ‘What am I to call him – “Judge”?’

      ‘No: not that: never that. For the present, “Sir James,” I think.’

      ‘And what am I to talk about?’

      ‘Oh, anything – Australia. Interest him about the Bush. Try, dearest, at dinner – to please me.’

      ‘Very well,’ said Gladys; ‘I’ll have a shot.’

      And she had one, though it was not quite the kind of shot Alfred would have recommended – at any rate, not for a first shot. For, on thinking it over, it seemed to Gladys that, with relation to the Bush, nothing could interest a Judge so much as the manner of administering the law there, which she knew something about. Nor was the subject unpromising or unsafe: it was only her way of leading up to it that was open to criticism.

      ‘I suppose, Sir James,’ she began, ‘you have lots of trying to do?’

      ‘Trying?’ said the Judge, looking up from his soup; for the Bride had determined not to be behindhand in keeping her promise, and had opened the attack thus early.

      ‘As if he were a tailor!’ thought Granville. ‘Trials, sir,’ he suggested suavely. He was sitting next Gladys, who was on the Judge’s right.

      ‘Ah, trials!’ said the Judge with a faint – a very faint – smile. ‘Oh, yes – a great number.’

      A sudden thought struck Gladys. She became the interested instead of the interesting party. She forgot the Bush, and stared at her father-in-law in sudden awe.

      ‘Are there many murder trials among them, Sir James?’

      By the deliberate manner with which he went on with his soup, the Judge apparently did not hear the question. But Lady Bligh and Alfred heard it, and were horrified; while Granville looked grave, and listened for more with all his ears. He had not to wait long. Gladys feared she had expressed herself badly, and quickly tried again.

      ‘What I mean is – Sir James – do you often have to go and put on the black cap, and sentence poor unfortunate people to be hung? Because that can’t be very nice, Sir James – is it?’

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