nds--why should we not continue
to be? You will come and see us as usual?"

The melting wistfulness of her eyes, even the lingering pressure of the
hand which she had extended--half dropped--to him out of the hammock,
had their effect on Lambert, who in a matter of this kind was as easy to
make a fool of as most men.

"Well, I think I'll go now," he said unsteadily. "Yes, I hope we'll
continue to be friends--for I must go on seeing you," he added with a
kind of desperation. "Good-bye."

"Not good-bye. Only `so long' as they say here," she answered kindly.
And with a hurried assent he tore himself away.

Mona, left to herself, felt regretful, but it was a regret dashed with a
kind of triumph; which exultation in turn gave way to a feeling
bordering on fierce resentment. Not against Lambert, though; for before
his horse's hoofs were out of hearing along the Doppersdorp road she had
almost forgotten her dejected and discomfited adorer. No, it was evoked
by his parting insinuation, which had so aroused her anger at the time,
and now moved her to an exultation which made all her pulses stir, and,
alone as she was, caused her to flush hotly.

Not long, however, was she destined to be left to her own thoughts, such
as they were, for presently Mrs Suffield invaded her solitude. At her
the latter shot a quick, curious glance.

"Well, Mona; and what have you done to him?"

"To him? To whom?"

"You know who well enough: the doctor, of course. He could hardly bid
me good-bye coherently, and went away with a face as if he were about to
hang himself."

"Well, he wouldn't be going _away_ to do that; because he could hardly
find a tree big enough for the purpose in the whole district except
here. He'd have to do it here or nowhere."

"What a heartless girl you are, Mona! Why did you play with the poor
fellow like that? Of coarse its all fun to you--"

"And death to him, you were going to say. But it isn't. He's glum
enough now--but wait a year or two and see. He'll brag about it then,
and go about hinting, or more than hinting, that there was a stunning
fine girl down Doppersdorp way--this, if he's changed his abode--who was
awfully smashed on him, and so on. Wait and see. I know them, and
they're all alike." And the speaker stretched herself languidly, and
yawned.

Grace Suffield hardly knew what to say, or whether to feel angry or
laugh. But she was spared the necessity of replying, for Mona went on-