In the Land of the Long White Cloud

guests, you understand. The lieutenant general will attend, leading representatives of business and the Crown…all thebetter society of Canterbury. For that reason, Gwyneira’s dress can’t be costly enough. You’ll look marvelous, my child!”
    Gerald patted Gwyneira lightly on the shoulder and then went off to discuss the shipment of the horses and sheep with her father. Both men had come to a mutually agreeable understanding never to mention the fateful card game again. The lord sent the flock of sheep and the dogs as Gwyneira’s dowry overseas while Lady Silkham framed the engagement with Lucas Warden as an entirely suitable alliance with one of New Zealand’s oldest families. And, in fact, that was true: Lucas’s mother’s parents had been among the very first settlers to the South Island. If people still whispered about it in the salons anyway, it did not reach the lady’s or her daughters’ ears.
    Gwyneira would not have cared anyway. She only reluctantly dragged herself to the many tea parties where her supposed “friends” duplicitously celebrated her “exciting” departure, only then to swoon over their own future spouses in Powys or the city. If she had a moment free from visiting, Gwyn’s mother insisted that she give her opinion on cloth samples and then stand for hours modeling for the dressmaker. Lady Silkham had her measured for holiday and afternoon dresses, fussed over elegant traveling clothes, and could hardly believe that Gwyneira would need more light summer dresses than winter apparel. Yet on the other side of the globe, as Gerald tirelessly reminded her, the seasons were indeed reversed.
    Additionally, he always had to arbitrate when the “another afternoon dress or third riding dress” fight escalated anew.
    “There’s no way,” Gwyneira said, becoming agitated, “that in New Zealand I’ll be passed from one tea party to another like in Cardiff. You said it was a new country, Mr. Warden. Parts of it still unexplored! I won’t need any silk dresses there.”
    Gerald Warden smiled at both adversaries. “Lady Gwyneira. At Kiward Station you’ll find the same social structure as you have here, so don’t worry,” he began, although he knew, of course, that it was really Lady Silkham who had reservations. “However, the distances are much greater. The closest neighbor we call on lives forty miles away. So you don’t drop in for afternoon tea. Besides, road constructionthere is still in its infancy. For that reason we prefer to ride to visit our neighbors rather than taking a coach. That doesn’t mean, however, that we approach our social contacts in any less civilized a fashion. You merely need to accustom yourself to multiple-day visits since short ones aren’t worthwhile, and clearly you’ll need a corresponding wardrobe.
    “By the way, I’ve booked our ship passage. We’ll be leaving for Christchurch from London aboard the
Dublin
on the eighteenth of July. Part of the cargo hold will be prepared for the animals. Would you like to ride out this afternoon to see the stallion, my lady? It seems to me you’ve hardly been out of the dressing room all week.”

    Madame Fabian, Gwyneira’s French governess, was worried above all about the dearth of culture in the colonies. She lamented in all the languages available to her that Gwyneira wouldn’t be able to continue her musical education, even though playing the piano was the only skill recognized by society for which the girl demonstrated the least bit of talent. However, Gerald could calm these waters too: naturally, there was a piano in his house; his late wife had played beautifully and had even taught their son how to play. Apparently, Lucas was an exceptional pianist.
    Astoundingly, it was Madame Fabian of all people who was able to draw more information out of the New Zealander about Gwyneira’s future spouse. The artistically inclined teacher simply asked the right questions—whenever concerts, books, theaters, and galleries in Christchurch were mentioned, Lucas’s name came up. It appeared that Gwyneira’s fiancé was extremely cultivated and artistically gifted. He painted, played music, and maintained an exhaustive correspondence with British scientists, mostly concerning the ongoing research of New Zealand’s unusual animal kingdom. Gwyneira hoped to share this interest with him, since the depiction of the rest of Lucas’s proclivities seemed almost uncanny. She had expected fewer highbrow