d that he did, and as to be believed in is a very strong aid to
all men, there was very little doubt that eventually the God of
nations would prove to have given South Africa a fine statesman, even
if he were built up upon a rabid politician. And if the instrument
used was a woman, has not a great nation itself been built up through
such instrumentality?

And here one pauses a moment to think the old question, how often is a
woman at the back of a man's greatness or a country's or any greatness
whatsoever? Only these women do not need to do any shouting, because,
as a rule, they only want to be heard by _one_. And when the result is
a fine edifice, they are still content to go unnamed and unsung if
that _one_ be lauded generously. For God made women in the beginning,
the best women of all, to want love and be content with love, and care
very little about fame. And so they go quietly on their way, creating
great results, moving mountains, and saying very little about it. It
is that old heroic spirit Lamartine wrote about. And there is a spark
of it in the soul of every woman waging her solitary fight on the
outposts of the Empire, whether she put new life and hope and spirit
into a miner's cabin, or a farmer's little wattle-and-daub home, or in
the heart of any servant of the Empire. What the colonies owe to their
women is so little talked about, partly perhaps because words are all
too inadequate to express it, and also perhaps because if the _one_ is
there to listen and the _one_ to love, many women want no recognition.

But all this time it only remains to be said that Diana believed in
van Hert and believed in his work for her country, and that was why
she had been able to give her love so frankly and absolutely, and was
not in the least deterred by those mutterings of execration which
there is very little doubt she intended shortly to put an end to for
good and all; for if she had entertained any doubts as to how much he
loved her and was ready to do for her, they must have been swept away
utterly out of sight after the first moment of their meeting this
morning. What he had fought to keep out of his face before was now
flooding through it. Never at any moment, even when he first loved
Meryl, had he looked at her as he now looked at Diana. In every pulse
of her being she felt he loved her, not perhaps with the calm, strong
love of her own countrymen, but with a fierceness and intensity,
inherited maybe from some Fr