In the Land of the Long White Cloud

especially to serve the interest of Mrs. Gwyneira Warden whom we, in another case laid before us for our decision, must disappoint. Please maintain absolute silence with regard to this latter matter. The judgment has yet to be presented to the involved parties…
    “Damn it, that’s the business with the Maori.” James sighed. “Poor Gwyn…and the way it sounds, she’s still facing it all on her own. I should set out for Canterbury at once.”
    Leonard nodded. “I won’t stand in your way,” he said, grinning. “On the contrary, then I’ll finally have a free room in the Grand Hotel!”

    “I really should accompany you, James,” Helen said with some regret. The zealous twins had just served the last course of a grand farewell meal. Fleurette had insisted on entertaining her father at least once before he disappeared to Canterbury, possibly for several years. Naturally, he had sworn to come visit them with Gwyneira as soon as possible, but Fleur knew how it was on large sheep farms: something always came up that made it impossible for the manager to leave.
    “It was wonderful here, but I need to get back to caring for the farm. And I don’t want to be a burden to you forever.” Helen folded her napkin.
    “You’re not a burden to us,” Fleurette said. “On the contrary! I don’t know what we’re going to do without you, Helen.”
    Helen laughed. “Don’t lie, Fleur. You were never very good at it. Seriously, dear, as much as I like it here, I need to have something to occupy me again. I’ve taught my whole life. Just sitting around now, playing with the children occasionally, seems like wasted time.”
    Ruben and Fleurette looked at her. They seemed uncertain about how to respond. Finally, Ruben spoke.
    “Very well, we didn’t want to ask until later, when everything was settled,” he said, looking at his mother. “But before you take off, we’d better just say it. Fleurette and I—and let’s not forget Leonard McDunn—have already been thinking about what you could do here.”
    Helen shook her head. “I’ve already looked at the school, Ruben, the—”
    “Forget the school, Helen!” said Fleur. “You’ve done that long enough. We were thinking…well, we were planning to buy a farm outside of town. Or rather a house, we haven’t given much thought to the farm as a business. It’s too loud here, too much traffic…I’d like the children to have more freedom. Can you imagine, Helen, Stephen’s never seen a weta?”
    Helen felt that her grandson would grow up just fine without this experience.
    “In any event, we’ll be moving out of this house,” Ruben explained, taking in the sweet, two-story townhouse with a sweep of his hand. “The house was completed last year and we spared nothing on the furnishings. We could sell it, naturally. But then Fleurette thought it would be an ideal location for a hotel.”
    “A hotel?” Helen asked, confused.
    “Yes!” Fleurette announced. “Look, it’s got a great deal of room since we were always counting on a big family. If you were to live on the ground floor and rent out the rooms upstairs…”
    “You want me to run a hotel?” Helen asked. “Have you lost your mind?”
    “Think of it more like a bed and breakfast where people can stay longer if they like,” Leonard said helpfully, looking at Helen encouragingly.
    Fleurette nodded. “Don’t misunderstand what we mean by hotel,” she said quickly. “We mean for it to be a respectable hotel. Not a den of thieves like Daphne’s, where bandits and loose women roost. No, I was thinking…when respectable people move to town, like a doctor or a banker, they have to live somewhere. And well…young women.” Fleurette played with a newspaper that had been lying on the table as if by chance—the newsletter of the Anglican diocese of Christchurch.
    “That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Helen asked and took the thin gazette from her hand. It was opened to a page with a little advertisement.
    Queenstown, Otago. Are you a Christian girl, strong in faith and animated by the pioneer spirit, interested in entering into marriage with a respectable, well-situated member of the community…
    Helen shook her head. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. “Back then it was whalers; now it’s prospectors! Do these respectable pastors’ wives and pillars of the community really know what they’re doing to these girls?”
    “Well, it’s Christchurch, Mother, not exactly