In the Land of the Long White Cloud

George and Elizabeth liked spending time with Helen, the successful young businessman occasionally had other things to do besides regulating the day-to-day management of a small farm. What’s more, Howard’s obstinacy and his interactions with Helen and Ruben angered him. They were always incurring Howard’s wrath—paradoxically because, in Howard’s opinion, Helen took too much and Ruben too little interest in the affairs of the farm. Helen had long since realized that George’s help was the only thing that could not only ensure their economic stability, but drastically improve their quality of life. She, unlike her husband, was in a position to understand George’s suggestions and their motives. She was always pushing Howard to put her to work, which invariably set him off. It further burdened their relationship when George would then rise to her defense, and little Ruben’s enthusiasm for “Uncle George” was obviously a thorn in his side. Greenwood generously supplied the boy with the books he wanted and gave him magnifying glasses and botanist’s containers to encourage his scientific interests. Howard thought it was nonsense—Ruben was supposed to take over the farm, and for that a basic knowledge of reading, writing, and arithmetic sufficed. Ruben, however, was not remotely interested in farm work and had only a limited curiosity about flora and fauna. His friend Fleur had largely initiated his “research” in these fields. Ruben shared his mother’s gift for the humanities. He was already reading the classics in their original languages, and his well-formed sense of right and wrong made him seem predestined for a career as a priest or perhaps the study of law. George could not see him as a farmer—a huge conflict between father and son was inevitable. Greenwood feared that even his own work with O’Keefe would eventually come to grief—and he hardly dared to think about the consequences for Helen and Ruben. But he could worry about that later. His current excursion to the West Coastwas a sort of vacation for him; he wanted to finally get to know the South Island better and discover new markets. Besides, a different father-son tragedy provided his motivation: though he had not told anyone, George was looking for Lucas Warden.
    More than a year had passed since the heir of Kiward Station had disappeared, and the chatter in Haldon had largely subsided. The rumors about Gwyneira’s child had been silenced; it was generally accepted that her husband was spending time in London. Since the people in town had hardly ever seen Lucas Warden, they did not miss him. Besides, the regional banker was not very discreet and thus news of Lucas’s immense financial success in the motherland increasingly found its way into circulation. The people of Haldon took it for granted that Lucas was earning money by painting new pictures. In reality, however, the galleries in the capital were only selling the pieces they had long had on hand. At George’s request, Gwyneira had already had a third selection of watercolors and oil paintings sent to London. They obtained ever better prices, and George shared in the earnings—which was, aside from his solicitousness, another good reason to track down the lost artist.
    Curiosity also played a role. In George Greenwood’s opinion, Gerald had conducted far too superficial a search for his son. He wondered why old Warden had not sent messengers to look for Lucas, or even struck out to track him down himself, which he easily could have done since Gerald knew the West Coast like the back of his hand. There were simply not all that many possible hiding places. Unless Lucas had acquired forged papers somewhere—which George did not think likely—he had not left the South Island at all, seeing as the ships’ passenger manifests were reliable, and Lucas’s name had not appeared on any of them. He hadn’t sought refuge on one of the sheep farms on the East Coast, either; word would have gotten around. As for hiding out with a Maori tribe, Lucas had simply been brought up too English. He would never have been able to adapt to the natives’ lifestyle and barely spoke a word of their language. That left the West Coast—and there were only a handful of settlements there. Why hadn’t Gerald taken a finer comb to them?What had occurred to make the elder Warden so obviously happy to be rid of his son—and why had he reacted in such a delayed and disingenuous manner to the