o sit and
look at it; and so do I."

Diana, with the two men, had strolled outside; and Ailsa and Meryl sat
alone in the cool interior.

Meryl sat very still, with her hands lightly clasped on her knees, and
her eyes always--always--to the lovely prospect that was like a mighty
ocean in which the waves were blue, mystical kopjes; and over which
the first clouds, that heralded the approach of the rainy season, shed
entrancing lights and shadows. Ailsa sat a little behind, and her eyes
roved back from the view that had grown into her being and become part
of her life to the face of the young heiress. She noted at once its
instinctive charm; the charm of a woman blessed with most of the
traits that hold and bind men for ever. Strength was there without
masterfulness; sweetness that would never cloy; a dreamy elusiveness
that meant a closed book it would be a joy to study chapter by
chapter; and some of the chapters would surprise with their lightness
and mirth, while others would surprise with their depth of sympathetic
understanding, and yet others would bewilder alluringly with their
whimsical, irresistible uncertainty. She knew that society papers
sometimes spoke of the well-known millionaire's daughter as beautiful,
but to her it seemed the word was hardly the right one. Meryl's face
had in it something too strong and too distinctive for actual beauty;
and yet Ailsa thought of all the lovely women she had ever seen none
were quite so attractive. And because she was a tender-hearted woman,
the thought crossed her mind to wonder if perhaps, out of the dark
shadow that she knew hung ever over Peter Carew's life, there might
yet be a way of escape; a gracious healing, and a final joy. Could two
such humans meet and not love? Could anything truly separate them if
once the love were born?

She mused a moment or two happily, sublimely ignorant of all the
forces that warred between; of what caused the shadow; of the power of
a dead face; of the pride of a resolute man; of that attractive
Huguenot Dutchman biding his time down south.

At last Meryl broke the silence. As she sat gazing through the open
doorway her mind had lingered unconsciously over that last sentence.
"Major Carew, when he is here, loves just to sit and look at it," and
in her fancy she saw the silent, watching form of the grim
soldier-policeman.

"He is an interesting man," she said simply. "I think I understood he
was some connection of yours?"

"Yo