The timber hut that had been the first school was now one of several classrooms. The rest of the school was brick, with a house next door for the principal and his family, and two local teachers were employed to assist.

The children had left, though he could still almost hear the echo of their yells as he knocked at the principal’s front door. A woman answered, dressed in a white blouse and dark blue skirt. ‘Mrs Hoffernan? My name is Mr Clancy. I wonder, is your husband in? I’ve come to talk to him about enrolling my son at the school.’

‘Come in, Mr Clancy. I’m afraid my husband has been called to Sydney. A death in the family.’

‘I am so sorry.’

‘His great-grandmother. It wasn’t unexpected. I’ve been teaching his classes,’ she added as an explanation for her not accompanying her husband to the funeral. ‘Will you have a cup of tea, Mr Clancy?’

He hesitated. It would not be proper for her to serve tea to a strange man with no husband or other woman in the house, just as it was only good manners to offer it.

‘Thank you, but I need to start the journey home.’ If he left now, he’d have a few hours’ riding before he set up camp, which tonight would just mean sleeping in his swag, not even bothering with a fire for breakfast. ‘But about my son. Benjamin is eight years old. And the new law says that every child in New South Wales is entitled to schooling. He can read well — he’s just finished Treasure Island . . .’

‘My word, that is impressive.’

Clancy smiled with pride. ‘His writing isn’t as good as his reading. But he’s well mannered,’ mostly, when he remembered or was reminded, ‘and he gets on well with other children.’ There were nine other kids at Overflow, though none of their parents saw any need for more schooling than an hour now and then for the most basic numbers, reading and signing their names.

‘We shall be delighted.’

‘Mrs Hoffernan,’ he said cautiously, ‘Benjamin’s mother is Aboriginal.’

She took a breath. ‘Ah, I see your hesitation. But my nanny was a native, and our housemaid was too. My mother taught both to read and write. It’s true there are no native children at the school . . .’ She faltered herself. ‘Benjamin may find it . . . difficult . . . at first. But I will do my best to make him welcome. Several of the other children come from properties with native stockmen.’

Whose children did not come to school. But he liked this woman. Yes, Benjamin would have to work to be accepted. But he was a likable lad. And while he could get whatever education he needed from books, he also needed to earn acceptance in the community, which he would need as the eventual owner and manager of Overflow.

Mrs Hoffernan seemed determined now. ‘Every child deserves an education.’