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"
Are
we
going
to
live
here
?
"
Meggie
squeaked
.
"
Not
exactly
,
"
the
priest
said
quickly
.
"
The
house
you
're
going
to
live
in
is
about
a
mile
further
on
,
down
by
the
creek
.
"
Mary
Carson
was
waiting
to
receive
them
in
the
vast
drawing
room
and
did
not
rise
to
greet
her
brother
,
but
forced
him
to
come
to
her
as
she
sat
in
her
wing
chair
.
"
Well
,
Paddy
,
"
she
said
pleasantly
enough
,
looking
past
him
fixedly
to
where
Father
Ralph
stood
with
Meggie
in
his
arms
,
and
her
little
arms
locked
tightly
about
his
neck
.
Mary
Carson
got
up
ponderously
,
without
greeting
Fee
or
the
children
.
"
Let
us
hear
Mass
immediately
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
'
m
sure
Father
de
Bricassart
is
anxious
to
be
on
his
way
.
"
"
Not
at
all
,
my
dear
Mary
.
"
He
laughed
,
blue
eyes
gleaming
.
"
I
shall
say
Mass
,
we
'll
all
have
a
good
hot
breakfast
at
your
table
,
and
then
I
've
promised
Meggie
I
'll
show
her
where
she
's
going
to
live
.
"
"
Meggie
,
"
said
Mary
Carson
.
"
Yes
,
this
is
Meggie
.
Which
rather
begins
the
introductions
at
the
tail
,
does
n't
it
?
Let
me
begin
at
the
head
,
Mary
,
please
.
This
is
Fiona
.
"
Mary
Carson
nodded
curtly
,
and
paid
scant
attention
as
Father
Ralph
ran
through
the
boys
;
she
was
too
busy
watching
the
priest
and
Meggie
.
The
head
stockman
's
house
stood
on
piles
some
thirty
feet
above
a
narrow
gulch
fringed
with
tall
,
straggling
gum
trees
and
many
weeping
willows
.
After
the
splendor
of
Drogheda
homestead
it
was
rather
bare
and
utilitarian
,
but
in
its
appurtenances
it
was
not
unlike
the
house
they
had
left
behind
in
New
Zealand
.
Solid
Victorian
furniture
filled
the
rooms
to
overflowing
,
smothered
in
fine
red
dust
.
