The sheep were moved back to their normal pasture and the Clearys were forced to learn the Outback habit of
siesta1. They rose at five, got everything done before midday, then
collapsed2 in
twitching3, sweating heaps until five in the afternoon. This
applied4 both to the women at the house and the men in the paddocks. Chores which could not be done early were done after five, and the evening meal eaten after the sun had gone down at a table outside on the
veranda5. All the beds had been moved outside as well for the heat persisted through the night. It seemed as if the mercury had not gone below a century in weeks, day or night. Beef was a forgotten memory, only a sheep small enough to last without
tainting6 until it was all eaten. Their palates longed for a change from the eternal round of baked mutton chops, mutton
stew7, shepherd's pie made of
minced8 mutton,
curried9 mutton, roast leg of mutton, boiled pickled mutton, mutton casserole. But at the beginning of February life changed
abruptly10 for Meggie and Stuart. They were sent to the convent in Gillanbone to board, for there was no school closer. Hal, said Paddy, could learn by correspondence from Blackfriars School in Sydney when he was old enough, but in the meantime, since Meggie and Stuart were used to teachers, Mary Carson had generously offered to pay for their board and tuition at the Holy Cross convent. Besides, Fee was too busy with Hal to supervise correspondence lessons as well. It had been tacitly understood from the beginning that
Jack11 and Hughie would go no further with their educations; Drogheda needed them on the land, and the land was what they wanted. Meggie and Stuart found it a strange, peaceful existence at Holy Cross after their life on Drogheda, but especially after the Sacred Heart in Wahine. Father Ralph had subtly indicated to the
nuns12 that this pair of children were his protégés, their aunt the richest woman in New South Wales. So Meggie's shyness was transformed from a
vice13 into a
virtue14, and Stuart's odd
isolation15, his habit of staring for hours into illimitable distances, earned him the
epithet16 "saintly."
It was very peaceful indeed, for there were very few boarders; people of the district wealthy enough to send their offspring to boarding school invariably preferred Sydney. The convent smelled of polish and flowers, its dark high corridors awash with quietness and a
tangible17 holiness. Voices were muted, life went on behind a black thin veil. No one
caned18 them, no one shouted at them, and there was always Father Ralph. He came to see them often, and had them to stay at the presbytery so regularly he decided to paint the bedroom Meggie used a delicate apple green,