The Foot of Time: A Novel of Australia and the South Seas: (1933)

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184 THE FOOT OF TIME
And now five years had gone by, and Ian told
his wife that the governor was through with all his
fast living—through with it for good and for all.
With every year that Mac—in his rather heavy
way—made the announcement, his wife relented
more and more to the lonely baronet.
"The Lord's got into the poor mon's hairt, Mac,"
Mrs. Mackenzie opinionated.
"Ay!" agreed her husband non-committantly.
"The Lord and time. Sir Bruce is getting on, sweetheart.
'Am thinking he is but biding his time. She's
never out of his mind, sleeping or waking. 'Am
thinking we'll see some drama before long now,
ay! The mon's aM restless, the good God pity him!"
"You think too highly of him, Ian, I'm telling
you. He's but to look at you, ye ken, and he'd turn
you round his finger."
"Ay, sweetheart. I love the man, sinner though
he be."
"You're ever overforgiving, Mac, I'm telling
you. Let him set foot in this house, that's all—jest
let him try it!"
"It must be over twenty years since he—"
"Ay, Ian; I'm too hard, maybe. The Lord's got
into his hairt, and it isn't for me to say onything."
"Sir Bruce would invite us to dinner, ye ken,
Jean—if he thought you would consider it."
"Set foot! There, Ian. No!"
Righteous indignation flared out of Mrs. Mackenzie's
eyes, but her husband who knew her saw
that she was unbending.
It was at this moment that a peon brought a note
THE FOOT OF TIME
by hand from Goombah. Mackenzie leisurely
opened it.
"It's from the Governor, Jean," he said. "I'll
read it to you." Mackenzie thereupon began to
read:
"Dear Mac,
"Dinner to-night, eight o'clock. May I hope that
my altered habits of the last five years might conceivably
reconcile Mrs. Mackenzie to accompany
you.
"P.S.—Otherwise I've nothing on to-night.
R.S.V.P."
The couple pondered upon this for a longish
spell. Neither spoke, but it was Mrs. Mackenzie
who broke the long silence.
"The mon knows all too well, Ian, that nothing
would persuade me to enter his late abode of hell.
Many a bachelor dinner you two have taken there
together, and no harm done, but it is no place for
your wife, when all is said and done."
"Ay!" responded her husband, guessing (and he
hoped he was right) what was coming.
"But, Ian, dear, the mon's aye a repentant sinner.
Five years you were telling me, and the laddie's
lonely. It's not for me to judge, Mac. If you
wish it, ask him to eat here with us. My hairt
gangs oot to the puir mon."
"Aye, darling. You were ever forgiving. 'Am
no saying but what 'am with ye."
And thus it came about that the peon took the
following reply back to Sir Bruce at Goombah:
"Mrs. Mackenzie bids me say, in view of you
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