Anderson's Jo by Mary Grant Bruce

Anderson's Jo by Mary Grant Bruce

Author:Mary Grant Bruce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, Australia, juvenile
Publisher: Distributed Proofreaders Canada
Published: 1927-10-15T05:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER IX

MRS. HARRAP HEARS NEWS

Afterwards John Anderson looked back to Jo’s birthday week-end as the parting of the ways. Certainly it marked the end of his peaceful life at Peak Farm.

He came back from Highfield late on Monday afternoon. Mrs. Collins had tea ready for him, and he welcomed it thankfully.

“I’ve had a busy day,” he said, as she put the tray beside him. “Things have been moving, Mrs. Collins. I’ve sold the place!”

“Already, Mr. John?” she gasped.

He nodded.

“Yes. Cartwright—that’s Bissell’s client—knows what he wants, and he wants it quickly. He’s going to be married in a few weeks, and he needs a place almost immediately for his cows—he’s been dairying with his brother, and they’re dividing the herd. He would like to get everything settled and put a man in to look after the farm while he’s away getting married, so that he and his wife will find a home waiting for them.”

“Dear me!” said Mrs. Collins. “But will he buy without inspecting?”

“Oh, he’s coming out to-morrow to go over everything. But it’s only a matter of form: he knows the place already, and Bissell inspected it recently. It’s practically sold. His father knows Peak Farm too, and as a matter of fact, it’s the old man who is buying. He is a well-to-do old fellow, a storekeeper in Highfield, and he’s giving the son a place as a wedding-present.”

“Well, I’m sure I’m glad he’s such a good father,” said Mrs. Collins, dryly. “It suits us well, Mr. John.”

“There’s better yet. Bissell asked me if I’d consider the question of a ‘walk-in and walk-out’ sale—stock, furniture, machinery, and everything: the whole place as it stands.”

“Oh, my clear!” said Mrs. Collins, faintly. “And you said——?”

“Why, of course I hummed and hawed, and didn’t jump at the idea—and all the time stifling my desire to chuck my hat in the air. So finally we drove out to see young Cartwright, and went into the matter thoroughly. The girl he’s going to marry lives in Adelaide, and he doesn’t want to furnish a house without her to choose things—wise lad! He would like to settle down as the place is for a bit, to see how she likes it; then, after a year or so they can alter what they wish. Meanwhile, Bissell has told him that our outfit is pretty decent, and if he agrees with Bissell to-morrow—well, I’ve gracefully consented.”

“And that means,” said Mrs. Collins, with subdued ecstasy, “no packing, no clearing sale, no horrible people trampling all over the house and garden—!” Words failed her. She turned her eyes skywards.

“And what’s better than anything else—no fuss,” said John. “No advertising the clearing sale for a month beforehand, and letting the whole district know that we’re going. It’s exactly what we want. We sell out quietly, pack our personal effects—thank goodness, they’re few—hand over the place to Cartwright, and simply drive away. By Jove, it’s more than I’d have dared to hope for!”

“But will there be feed for Mr. Cartwright’s cows?”

“I think so.



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