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They

would

have

to

go

steerage

on

the

ship

,

but

it

was

only

three

days

after

all

,

not

too

bad

.

Not

like

the

weeks

and

weeks

between

England

and

the

Antipodes

.

All

they

could

afford

to

take

with

them

were

clothes

,

china

,

cutlery

,

household

linens

,

cooking

utensils

and

those

shelves

of

precious

books

;

the

furniture

would

have

to

be

sold

to

cover

the

cost

of

shipping

Fee

's

few

bits

and

pieces

in

the

parlor

,

her

spinet

and

rugs

and

chairs

.

"

I

wo

n't

hear

of

your

leaving

them

behind

,

"

Paddy

told

Fee

firmly

.

"

Are

you

sure

we

can

afford

it

?

"

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"

Positive

.

As

to

the

other

furniture

,

Mary

says

she

's

readying

the

head

stockman

's

house

and

that

it

's

got

everything

we

're

likely

to

be

needing

.

I

'm

glad

we

do

n't

have

to

live

in

the

same

house

as

Mary

.

"

"

So

am

I

,

"

said

Fee

.

Paddy

went

into

Wanganui

to

book

them

an

eight-berth

steerage

cabin

on

the

Wahine

;

strange

that

the

ship

and

their

nearest

town

should

have

the

same

name

.

They

were

due

to

sail

at

the

end

of

August

,

so

by

the

beginning

of

that

month

everyone

started

realizing

the

big

adventure

was

actually

going

to

happen

.

The

dogs

had

to

be

given

away

,

the

horses

and

the

buggy

sold

,

the

furniture

loaded

onto

old

Angus

MacWhirter

's

dray

and

taken

into

Wanganui

for

auction

,

Fee

's

few

pieces

crated

along

with

the

china

and

linen

and

books

and

kitchen

goods

.

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Frank

found

his

mother

standing

by

the

beautiful

old

spinet

,

stroking

its

faintly

pink

,

streaky

paneling

and

looking

vaguely

at

the

powdering

of

gold

dust

on

her

fingertips

.

"

Did

you

always

have

it

,

Mum

?

"

he

asked

.

"

Yes

.

What

was

actually

mine

they

could

n't

take

from

me

when

I

married

.

The

spinet

,

the

Persian

carpets

,

the

Louis

Quinze

sofa

and

chairs

,

the

Regency

escritoire

.

Not

much

,

but

they

were

rightfully

mine

.

"

The

grey

,

wistful

eyes

stared

past

his

shoulder

at

the

oil

painting

on

the

wall

behind

him

,

dimmed

with

age

a

little

,

but

still

showing

clearly

the

golden-haired

woman

in

her

pale-pink

lace

gown

,

crinolined

with

a

hundred

and

seven

flounces

.

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