fluently in his own tongue.

"You'll have to pick up the lingo, Mr Denham," he said, as the man went
on. "You'll find it mighty useful."

"And mighty difficult, I expect," laughed the other.

In the verandah of the hotel a girl was standing. Denham looked at her
with furtive interest. He had certainly not seen her there since his
arrival.

"This is my daughter, Mr Denham," said his companion.

"How do you do, Mr Denham?" she said, putting forth a hand. "I seem
more than half to know you already through the post."

Such a straight, frank, welcoming hand-clasp; such a straight, frank
glance of the hazel eyes. Denham acknowledged the introduction with
outward composure, but inwardly he was perturbed. What a splendid girl!
he was thinking. He had no idea that Ben Halse owned a daughter; in
fact, had never given a thought to anything of the kind. And then the
trader's cordial invitation seemed to take on an entirely new aspect.
If his first impressions of the father had been entirely favourable,
precisely the same held good with regard to the daughter.

CHAPTER TEN.

IMPRESSIONS.

If Denham's impressions had been thus with regard to Verna, hers had
been the same with regard to himself. She had seen him first, as he
came up the garden path with her father, and the tall, fine figure, and
clean-cut face had taken her imagination at once. She remembered, only
the other day, asking her father what sort of man this would be likely
to be, never expecting to set eyes on him, and now here he was.

"Got any room at the bigger table, Emmie?" said Ben Halse, as they went
in. He had known the hostess of the Nodwengu--herself the daughter of a
fine old up-country trader and pioneer--ever since she was born. "I
like being among folks when I break away, which isn't often."

"Plenty. We're anything but full now, worse luck. Here, next me.
Verna, you sit there."

"There" meant next Denham, an arrangement of which the latter thoroughly
approved. "Verna!" So that was her name, he thought. It sounded
pretty, and seemed to suit her.

"You've only just arrived, I hear, Mr Denham," she began. "Well, I'm
not going to ask you what you think of this country, because you haven't
had time to form an opinion."

"I like what I've seen of it," he answered. "Ezulwini seems a
delightful spot."

"Mr Denham collects butterflies and beetles, and all sorts of things,"
struck in Mrs Shelford. "I came upon him this mornin