In the Land of the Long White Cloud

opportunity. We do have a few children here who do not know it, at least not the Christian version. Sit down now and listen. We’ll see what we do afterward.” Helen wanted to call on the next child, but Fleur had just espied her mother.
    “There they are, Mummy and Mr….”
    Helen peered through the brush—and froze when she recognized George Greenwood. She grew pale for a moment and then blushed. Was it joy? Horror? Shame? George hoped that joy won out. He smiled. Helen closed her books nervously. “Rongo…” Her gaze wandered over the assembled children and stopped on one of the older girls, who until that moment had not been following the lesson very attentively. She must have been one of the children for whom the creation story was no longer new. The girl would have liked to be browsing the new book, which Fleur also appeared to find much more interesting. “Rongo, I need to leave the class alone for a few minutes, as I have a visitor. Would you please take over the lesson? Please be sure that the children read properly and don’t just tell stories—and that they do not leave out a single word.”
    Rongo Rongo nodded and stood up. Full of her own importance as assistant teacher, she sat down at the lectern and called a girl up.
    As the girl began struggling through the story of the fourth day after creation, Helen walked over to Gwyneira and George. Just as he had been in the past, George was awed by her bearing. Any other woman would have quickly tried to fix her hair, or smooth her dress, or whatever else she could to spruce herself up. Helen did nothing of the sort. Calm and poised, she stepped up to her visitor and held out her hand to him.
    “George Greenwood! I’m so happy to see you.”
    George’s whole face shone and looked as hopeful and earnest as it had when he was sixteen.
    “You were able to recognize me, miss!” he said joyfully. “You haven’t forgotten it.”
    Helen blushed lightly. It didn’t escape her notice that he had said “it” and not “me.” He was referring to his promise, to his silly declaration of love and his desperate attempt to stop her at the outset of what was to be her new life.
    “How could I forget you, Mr. Greenwood?” she said amiably. “You were one of my most promising students, and now you have made good on your dream to travel the world.”
    “Not quite the whole world, miss…or should I say Mrs. O’Keefe?” George looked at her with the old mischievous look in his eyes.
    Helen shrugged. “They all call me
miss
.”
    “Mr. Greenwood is here to set up a branch office for his company,” Gwyneira explained. “He’ll be taking over Peter Brewster’s wool trading business when the Brewsters move to Otago.”
    Helen smiled bitterly. She was not sure whether that would be to Howard’s benefit or not.
    “That’s…nice,” she said hesitantly. “And now you’re here to get to know your clients? Howard won’t be back until this evening.”
    George smiled at her. “More than anything, I’m here to see you again, miss. Mr. O’Keefe can wait. I told you that before, but you didn’t want to listen.”
    “George, you should…I mean, really!” The old governess voice. George waited for a “You are so impertinent!” to follow, but Helen held back. Instead, she seemed shocked that she had accidentally called him “George” instead of “Mr. Greenwood.” George wondered if that had to do with Gwyneira’s introduction. Was Helen apprehensive about the new wool buyer? She seemed to have a reason to be, based on what he’d heard.
    “How is your family, Mr. Greenwood?” Helen said, attempting to redirect the conversation. “I’d love to chat at greater length, but the children walked three miles to come to school, and I cannot disappoint them. Do you have time to wait?”
    George nodded, smiling. “You know I can wait, miss.” Another allusion. “And I always did enjoy your lessons. Might I take part?”
    Helen seemed to relax. “Education has yet to do anyone harm,” she said. “Please, join us.”
    Amazed, the Maori children made room as George took his seat with them on the ground. Helen explained in English and Maori that he was a former student of hers from faraway England and as such he had come the farthest way of all to school. The children laughed and George once again noted how Helen’s tone as a teacher had changed. She’d had much less fun before.
    The children greeted their new classmate in their language, and