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money—well, we do them together, but Frank’s a
lot better at them than he used to be. A lot better than I am, not
that that’s saying much. I never thought Frank’d turn out to be the
sort of husband who’d make me do sums! I used to tell him he should
get you to help with them.’
    ‘I’d quite like that,’ Amy admitted. ‘I used
to enjoy helping Pa with the accounts. Not that Pa did anything
complicated like Frank does, but it was nice to feel I could do
something. I don’t seem to use my head hardly at all, really. I
don’t even know if Charlie keeps accounts, but he wouldn’t want me
anywhere near them if he does. That’s not women’s work. Anyway,
Charlie thinks I’m too stupid to do anything like that.’
    ‘Humph! I know who the stupid one
is,’ said Lizzie. ‘Frank doesn’t really need the help now, except I
write things out tidy for him. He says he likes us to do things
like that together—things that really matter, he calls them. He can
be soft sometimes, can Frank,’ she added fondly.
    ‘He says he needs about a dozen farmers to
be able to make a go of it, and he thinks he’s got just about
enough now,’ she went on. ‘Then they’re going to have a big meeting
and thrash it all out. Mr Callaghan’s meant to be going to the
meeting, too. It’ll still take ages after that, I expect—you know
what men are like for just talking on and on instead of getting on
with things.’
    ‘If Frank’s as keen as all that he won’t let
them muck about too much.’
    ‘No, he won’t—and they’ll take notice of
him, too. I still have to give him a shove sometimes, Frank still
thinks people might say he’s being stupid if he pushes himself
forward. But they all know Frank knows what he’s talking about,
even if they do try and throw off at him. Everyone knows Frank’s
got the best herd in Ruatane. And even if the men around here are
too stupid to want to buy any Jersey calves off him, they’re all
pretty keen on hiring Duke William. And they all want to buy
any of the half-breed calves he’s got to sell, and for a good
price, too.’ A triumphant smile lit up her face. ‘And it’s fair
enough—Frank’s worked darned hard to build up this herd.’
    ‘You must be awfully proud of Frank,’ Amy
said, trying in vain not to sound wistful. ‘He’s doing so well. And
he’s a good father, too. And a good husband,’ she added
quietly.
    ‘Oh, he’s a great fool sometimes—and I tell
him so, too, I don’t want him getting too big for his boots.’
Lizzie’s face softened. ‘He’s all right, is my Frank. He knows what
he’s doing.’
     
    *
     
    Lizzie gave Frank’s collar a final twitch,
then stood back to inspect the result.
    ‘That’s just right,’ she announced. ‘You’ll
look the smartest of any of them.’
    ‘No one’s going to care what I look like,
Lizzie,’ Frank protested with a laugh. ‘I feel a bit of a fool in
this fancy suit.’
    The new suit had been Lizzie’s idea. After
Frank’s first visit to Auckland he had mentioned to her how
well-dressed the city men seemed to be compared to the standards of
Ruatane, and had confessed that this had made him feel rather
awkward when mixing with them.
    Lizzie had said little on the subject beyond
exhorting him not to let anyone think they were better than him,
but as soon as Frank had begun planning a second visit Lizzie had
suggested, at first casually then in more and more persuasive
terms, that Frank have a new suit made for himself while he was in
Auckland.
    It had seemed a foolish extravagance to
Frank, and even more so when he had asked the price of a suit at
the smartest tailor’s shop he could find in Queen Street. He had
eventually gone to a much smaller tailor’s off the less fashionable
Symonds Street and had had a suit made that, while it might not
have met the standards of the smarter Auckland drawing rooms, would
stand out on the main street of Ruatane for the quality of its
cloth and cut.
    As far as Lizzie