The truth was that directly I saw
Bridget, she carried me clean off my head--and that's the long and
short of it.

Besides, I'd been down south a good while, then, figuring about in the
Legislative Assembly and swaggering on my prospects. I'd left Ninnis to
oversee up here, and Ninnis didn't know the Leura like some of the old
hands, who told me afterwards they'd seen the big drought coming as
long back as that.

I remember one old chap on the river, when he was sold up by the Bank
in the last bad times, and his wife had died of it all, saying to me,
'The Leura isn't the place for a woman.' And he was right. Well, I saw
that I was straight up against it that spring when we had had a poor
summer and a dry winter, and the Unionists started trouble cutting my
horses' throats, and burning woodsheds and firing the only good grass
on my run that I could rely upon. I didn't say much about it, but I
have no doubt that it made me bad-tempered and less pleasant to live
with.... That was just before the time Biddy went away. Afterwards, the
sales I'd counted on turned out badly--cattle too poor for want of
grass to stand the droving and the worst luck in the sale-yards I'd
ever known.

First thing I did was to reduce the staff and bar everything but bare
necessaries--I sent off the Chinamen and every spare hand. Ninnis and I
and the stockman--a first-rate chap, Moongarr Bill--worked the
run--just the three of us. You can guess how we managed it. A Malay boy
did cooky for the head-station.

After Christmas I left Ninnis and Bill to look after the place. I had
to go to Leichardt's Town. I had been thinking things out about Biddy
all that time--you know I'm too much of the Scotchy to make hasty
determinations. Well, I had that Parliament Bill, allowing divorce
after two years desertion in my head, from the day Biddy left me. It
seemed the best way out--for her. I had heard about that fellow going
Home in the same boat with her, and never guessed but that it was a
concerted plan between them. That note Harris showed me made me think
it was so. I don't think this now--after what you told me.

But what did rub itself into me then was that I ought to let her marry
him as soon as she decently could. I couldn't see the matter any other
way--I don't now. He has lots of money--though a man who would buy
happiness with another woman out of the money his wife had left
him--well, that's a matter of opinion. Besides, she has got the fortu