"Mum is to have two thousand pounds a year for herself, and so is Meggie. The household account will be kept at five thousand pounds, though why Father thinks we need so much to run a house, I don't know. He says in case we want to make major alterations. I have his instructions as to how much Mrs. Smith, Minnie, Cat and Tom are to be paid, and I must say he's generous. Other wages I decide on myself. But my first decision as manager is to put on at least six more stockmen, so Drogheda can be run as it should be. It's too much for a handful." That was the most he ever said about his sister's management. No one had ever heard of having so much money; they sat silent, trying to assimilate their good fortune.
"We'll never spend the half of it, Paddy," said Fee. "He hasn't left us anything to spend it on."
Paddy looked at her gently. "I know, Mum. But isn't it nice to think we'll never have to worry about money again?" He cleared his throat. "Now it seems to me that Mum and Meggie in particular are going to be at a bit of a loose end," he went on. "I was never much good at figures, but Mum can add and subtract and divide and multiply like an arithmetic teacher. So Mum is going to be the Drogheda bookkeeper, instead of Harry Gough's office. I never realized it, but Harry has employed one chap just to deal with Drogheda's accounts, and at the moment he's a man short, so he doesn't mind passing it back to us at all. In fact, he was the one who suggested Mum might make a good bookkeeper. He's going to send someone out from Gilly to teach you properly, Mum. It's quite complicated, apparently. You've got to balance the ledgers, the cash books, the journals, record everything in the log book, and so on. Enough to keep you pretty busy, only it won't take the starch out of you the way cooking and washing did, will it?"
It was on the tip of Meggie's tongue to shout: What about me? I did just as much washing and cooking as Mum!
Fee was actually smiling, for the first time since the news about Frank. "I'll enjoy the job, Paddy, really I will. It will make me feel like a part of Drogheda."
"Bob is going to teach you how to drive the new Rolls, because you're going to have to be the one to go into Gilly to the bank and see Harry. Besides, it will do you good to know you can drive anywhere you want without depending on one of us being around. We're too isolated out here. I've always meant to teach you girls how to drive, but there's never been the time before. All right, Fee?"
"All right, Paddy," she said happily.
"Now, Meggie, we've got to deal with you."
Meggie laid her sock and needle down, looked up at her father in a mixture of inquiry and resentment, sure she knew what he was going to say: her mother would be busy with the books, so it would be her job to supervise the house and its environs.
"I'd hate to see you turn into an idle, snobby miss like some of the graziers' daughters we know," Paddy said with a smile which robbed his words of any contempt. "So I'm going to put you to work at a full-time job, too, wee Meggie. You're going to look after the inside paddocks for us-Borehead, Creek, Carson, Winnemurra and North Tank. You're also going to look after the Home Paddock. You'll be responsible for the stock horses, which ones are working and which ones are being spelled. During musters and lambing we'll all pitch in together, of course, but otherwise you'll manage on your own, I reckon. Jack can teach you to work the dogs and use a stock whip. You're a terrible tomboy still, so I thought you might like to work in the paddocks more than lie around the house," he finished, smiling more broadly than ever. Resentment and discontent had flown out the window while he talked; he was once more Daddy, who loved her and thought of her. What had been the matter with her, to doubt him so? She was so ashamed of herself she felt like jabbing the big darning needle into her leg, but she was too happy to contemplate self-infliction of pain for very long, and anyway, it was just an extravagant way of expressing her remorse.
Her face shone. "Oh, Daddy, I'll love it!"
"What about me, Daddy?" asked Stuart.
"The girls don't need you around the house anymore, so you'll be out in the paddocks again, Stu."
"All right, Daddy." He looked at Fee longingly, but said nothing.
Fee and Meggie learned to drive the new Rolls Royce Mary Carson had taken delivery of a week before she died, and Meggie learned to work the dogs while Fee learned to keep the books.
