HORTUS SICCUS

Another idea I have for a new short story is about an early emigrant to Western Australia. Here is an extract -

"The heat always seemed that much more unbearable when Jack was away in Perth. Even if they had been able to prevent their servants from leaving, she doubted that she would have agreed to travel across the world, so far from home, if she had really understood what the weather was going to be like.

Yet here she was, with six-year-old Sabina by her side, willingly venturing out at the hottest time of day to collect plants for Captain Mangles.

Perhaps it was that there were so few other occupations available to divert her mind from the drudgery of household tasks that his request had not been an imposition, but rather a happy diversion, an excuse to walk into the bush.

"Why is that book called Hortus Siccus, Mama?”

"It means dry garden, Sabina."
"But everything here is dry?"

Yes, indeed, Georgiana thought.

“But in England, where Captain Mangles lives, and where your Papa and I were born, the weather can be very wet. That is why they need a special book to press the flowers, and write about them, so that people know what they look like when it isn’t raining."

Sabina looked at her wisely but said nothing.