incidence, that Lambert, about
halfway on his road to Doppersdorp, should encounter--or rather, so
absent and self-absorbed was his mood, run right into--a couple of
horsemen riding in the direction from which he had just come. Indeed,
it was the cheery hail of one of the latter that first made him aware of
their presence.

"Hi! Hallo, Lambert! You're riding in the wrong direction, man. Turn
round, turn round and come back with us. We are going to have a rhybok
shoot to-morrow."

But Charles Suffield's hospitable suggestion only made Lambert scowl,
and mutter something about having to be back. For the second of the two
horsemen was the objectionable Musgrave himself, who carried a gun. The
sight almost made him hesitate. He had no mind to leave the field open
to his rival, for so, in his soreness and jealousy, he considered the
other. His excuse, however, was not altogether a bogus one. Of late,
quite an alarming proportion of his time had been spent at
Quaggasfontein, and his patients were beginning to grumble, notably
those who had ridden or driven some three or four hours to find him, and
found him absent. His practice would suffer; for, apart from the
possibility of the importation of a rival medico, there was a large
proportion of people who would speedily find out their ability to do
without treatment, from the mere fact that they had to. So he stuck to
his intention as first expressed.

"Lambert looks a trifle off colour," said Suffield, with a comical
glance at his companion when they had resumed their way.

"Does he? I'm not sorry he didn't leap at your suggestion. I don't
particularly care for the fellow."

"He seems awfully gone on Mona, and I suppose she's playing the fool
with him, as usual. She's a most incurable flirt, that girl, and she
certainly does manage to bring them all to their knees. I tell her
she'll end her days an old maid."

The other smiled drily over Suffield's artless ramblings, for the two
men had become very intimate by this time. It occurred to him that Mona
had thought at one time to pass him through the same mill.

The warmth of welcome Roden met at the hands of his hostess was about
equal to the warmth with which she scolded him. What did he mean by
such behaviour? It was nearly a month since he had been near them.
Busy? A great deal to do? Nonsense! She knew better than that.
Doppersdorp Civil Servants were not the most hard-worked of their kind,
there