arned a playtime. In the
first vigorous years of her youth, let her go out to the sunny land
that was her home and give it of her best. Let her go north and see a
young country struggling towards fruition, and perhaps win the joy
and privilege, generally reserved for men, of helping it forward. All
in a moment her decision was made. If she could anyhow win her
father's consent, she would go with him on his trip to Rhodesia.

She stood up, tall and slim, and the subdued light glowed more deeply
in her eyes. The eyes of the visionary, who sees great things and
dreams great dreams, and, alas! how often, breaks a heart that of its
very fineness could only do or die.

Yet better, how much better, to hope and dare and die upon the
heights, than linger content in the warm, snug valley of little joys
and little sorrows!

And then across her dreams broke the sound of a sleepy voice from the
room behind her.

"If you stay out there any longer, Meryl, you will grow wings and fly
away. Do be rational enough to come in and go to bed."

"I thought you were asleep, Di. I'm sure I haven't been keeping you
awake."

"No, but you are doing so now; and, besides, it's so imbecile to stand
out there and stare at the stars."

"I've been thinking hard, Di." She came in and sat on the little gilt
bedstead, with its dainty hangings, and looked lovingly at the pretty
head on the lace-decked pillow.

"That's nothing new. If you _hadn't_ been thinking hard it would be
worth while mentioning it," and there was half a pout and half a smile
on the winsome mouth.

"But there was more object than usual to-night. Listen. If I persuade
father to take me up to Rhodesia with him, will you come too?..."

"O, golly!... to be eaten by lions, and tigers, and savages, and
elephants, and things!..."

"Well, there wouldn't be much apiece if they all had a bite."

Diana sat up and shook the hair out of her eyes, looking very much
like a small imp of ten, instead of a finished young lady of
twenty-two. "There's just a chance they would eat Aunt Emily first,"
said she, "and as that is a consummation devoutly to be wished, I
think we'll go...."

They both laughed, but Meryl soon grew serious again. "I'm awfully in
earnest, Di. Who cares about Norway when they might go to Rhodesia!
You'll perhaps fall overboard and be eaten by commonplace fishes if
you go there."

"What has given you the notion, Meryl? I thought only miners and
farmers went to Rhode