the sons, and
all his official instinct weighed on that side. There was absolutely no
evidence that any crime had been effected at all, and did not the legal
text-books teem with instances of disappearance for which innocent
people had been executed in the `good old times'? Why of course. No.
He at any rate was going to keep an open mind, and turn into fact the
time-worn legal fiction that the accused was innocent until he was
proved guilty.

So he was rather silent during lunch. The weight of Vine's revelation
was still on him; but the newcomer was quite at her ease and chatted
away with Prior and the doctor.

But later, when they were bowling away merrily behind a fresh, well
trotting pair of horses bound for Sipazi, he was obliged to put this new
train of thought out of his head, for the new arrival plied him with all
sorts of questions, as to the country and its natives, and other things;
then got on to the subject of Thornhill.

"I have never seen him, you know, Mr Elvesdon, since I was ever so
small. I don't know anything really about him beyond what my poor
mother told me. By the way--did he marry again?"

Elvesdon started unconsciously. In his present train of thought he was
wondering how much she knew as to the matter about which he had only
just heard.

"No. He has one girl at home now, and a boy away at the Rand."

"Oh. That's nice. Tell me. What is the girl like?"

"Charming. She's like no other girl I've ever seen."

The reply was made in a perfectly even tone, without any perceptible
enthusiasm. The other was interested at once.

"What's her name?"

"Edala. Peculiar name isn't it?"

"Rather. Do you think we shall get on?"

Elvesdon burst out laughing.

"I should think it highly probable that you would. She is very
unconventional--and you--well if you don't mind my saying so, Miss
Carden, I should think the same held good as regards yourself."

"Of course I don't mind your saying so; and it happens to be true. I
like being talked to rationally, and not talked down to--as you men are
too given to talking to us women. You know--a sort of humouring us, as
if we were a lot of spoilt children."

"But you must remember that if we don't humour you, `you women,' or at
any rate the majority of you, vote us disagreeable if not rude; a
favourite word with `you women' by the way. It has such a fine,
sonorous, roll-round-the-tongue flavour, you know."

Evelyn Carden laughed--and l