rom her. She beamed with happiness, and shook his hand unceasingly,
pouring forth questions like water.

"When did you get back? Why didn't you come before? What did you
bring a crowd for? Who have you got with you?"

"Only Kenna. The crowd doesn't belong to me. They've come to buy
pictures or something, and are in your studio. I haven't seen them.
We are in the dining-room."

His speech was disjointed and halting, his amazed gaze fixed upon the
girl standing thunderstruck at the foot of the steps. Clive forged on
into the house with a gloomy eye; she hated to sell pictures, even when
she needed the money. April and Sarle were left together, and in a
moment he was down the step by her side. They stood looking at each
other with the memory of their last kiss kindling between them. He had
been bitterly hurt, but he loved and trusted her beyond all things that
were, and could not conceal the happiness in his eyes. Only for the
open studio windows and the round-eyed piccannins, he would have
gathered her to his heart; as it was he gathered her hands instead and
held them where they could feel its beating.

"Darling! Thank God I have found you."

Kenna had not betrayed her, then. The blow was still to fall. She
managed to smile a little, but she had turned very pale, and there was
something in her silence chilling even to his ardent spirit.

"You don't think I tracked you down? We motored out here with no idea
but to see Clive Connal----"

"Of course not." She strove to speak casually. "I couldn't expect to
have a friend like Clive all to myself, but I never dreamed you knew
her."

"She has been my friend for twelve years or more."

"Yes," said Kenna's voice from the stoep, "we are all old friends
together here."

He had come out with _belle_ Helene, and stood smiling upon them. The
old malice was there, with some new element of strain that made him
look more sardonic, yet strangely pathetic to the girl who feared him.

"Who'd have thought to find you here, Lady Di?" he sneered softly.
"Life is full of pleasant surprises!"

They all went into the dining-room, where tea was laid, and Clive
brought in her picture-dealers, who proved to be two globe-trotters
anxious to acquire specimens of South African art. Someone had told
them that Clive Connal stood top of the tree amongst Cape painters, so
they had spent about seven pounds ten on a car from Cape Town in the
hope of getting some rare gem f