The Adventurous Seven | Page 2

uproar
of stamping, thumping, and clapping which lasted for nearly five
minutes, and, of course, raised more dust to thicken the atmosphere.
The pause gave the lecturer time to recover his breath and wipe some of
the perspiration from his face; it also made him rather cross, for he had
somehow got the idea that he was being laughed at, which was quite
wrong, because all seven of the Plumsteads, from Nealie down to
Ducky, thought that he was doing very well indeed.
"If you don't believe what I say," concluded the lecturer, "just come out
to New South Wales and see for yourselves if I have not told you the
plain, unvarnished truth; and I repeat what I have said before, that
although it is no place for the idle rich, for the man or the woman who
wants to work it is not to be beaten."
It was at this moment that Nealie leaned forward to whisper to Rupert,
who sat on the other side of Don and Billykins:
"Would it not be lovely for us all to go? Just think how we could help
dear Father, and he would not be lonely any more."
"Rather!" ejaculated Rupert, making a noise which was first cousin to a
whistle; then he passed the whisper on to Sylvia and Rumple, and that
was how the great idea started.
When the lecture was over they all crowded forward to speak to the
lecturer, explaining in a rather incoherent fashion the reason of their
keen interest in what he had been saying, and their hard and fast

intention to emigrate as soon as possible.
"Our father lives in New South Wales; but most likely you have met
him," said Nealie, whose knowledge of Australian geography was
rather vague, and who supposed that, as the lecturer came from Sydney,
he would most probably know everyone who lived in the country
known as New South Wales.
"I can't remember him offhand, young lady, but perhaps if you tell me
his name I may recollect whether I have met him," said the lecturer,
smiling at her in a genial fashion.
"He is Dr. Plumstead, and he is very clever," said Nealie, giving her
head the proud little tilt which it always took on when she spoke of her
father. She was very much of a child, despite her nineteen years, and
she never seemed able to understand that her father was not at the top
of his profession.
"Father is very much like Rumple, only, of course, bigger," broke in
Billykins, who could never be reduced to silence for many minutes
together nor yet be thrust into the background.
But Rumple blushed furiously at being dragged into notice in such a
way, and, turning his head abruptly, gave the lecturer no chance of
comparing his face with those of possible acquaintances on the other
side of the world.
"Most likely I have met him. I see so many people, far too many to be
able to recall their names at will," said the lecturer; but then the vicar
came up to claim his attention and the seven could get no further
chance to talk to him.
They set off home then; and as it was so dark, and a drizzling rain was
falling, Nealie took Ducky on her back, while Sylvia and Rumple
helped Rupert, who was lame, leaving Don and Billykins to bring up
the rear.
The nearest way was down through Boughlee Wood, but this route was

not to be thought of in the dark. It was not even wise to take the short
cut across Kennel Hill, so they tramped along the hard road, splashing
through the puddles and talking like a set of magpies about the lecture,
the lecturer, and their own determination to emigrate at once.
"No one wants us here, and there is nothing to do except get into
mischief," said Sylvia, with a sigh.
"Father will be glad to have us, of course, and we will make him so
very happy!" cried Nealie, and then Ducky leaned forward to kiss her
on the nose, hugging her so tightly that it was quite wonderful she was
not choked.
"But how are we to get to Australia?" panted Rupert, who was finding
the pace rather trying.
"We must ask Mr. Runciman to let us have the money," said Nealie. "I
should think that he would be glad to do it, for then he will get rid of us,
don't you see? And he is always grumbling about our being such a
dreadful expense."
"Mr. Runciman is horrid!" burst out Ducky, giving Nealie another hug.
"I just hate him when he says nasty things to you, Nealie."
"Of course we are an expense to him, especially when dear Father is
not able to