Up the Country: A Saga of Pioneering Days

For some time Charlotte had been anxious to remove Philip from the diggings. She had never had much hope of his striking it rich and now she decided that it was foolish to indulge his dreams of riches any longer. It had taken her some time to adjust herself to the change in her husband. A bald-headed, broken-mouthed man with granulated eyelids had replaced the pink-cheeked boy with the golden curls who had won her maiden heart. Even sadder to tell, she had found she had a drunkard on her hands, though this discovery she had loyally kept to herself. She wanted a place where she could rear domestic animals, as allies in the battles of life. She had woefully missed the amiable cow, the loyal hen, and Emily's letter appealing for help for Bert was the last touch needed to fix her determination.

Leaving her sons in a special category, there were two men inalienably dearer than life to her, her husband and her brother Bert. Younger than herself and at an age when youths are not always a benediction to their sisters, Bert had never been anything but a comfort. He had stood by her more like a sister than a brother in her two great campaigns, for love and education. Her thoughts strayed fondly to her last meeting with him at the Three Rivers wedding, nearly four years ago now. Was there anyone, anywhere, to compare with him in looks, ability or disposition? How daring and splendid he had been that night on the flooded river with Mamma! Charlotte's heart swelled with indignation to hear that he was suspected of aiding the bushrangers. Emily's loyalty became precious.