ing the troops. He was an
active man, and his duties in connection with the corps kept him fully
employed during most of the day, and sometimes, when there was outpost
duty to be done, during a good part of the night too. For the rest,
whenever he returned to the cart--by which he had stipulated he should
be allowed to sleep in order to protect Jess in case of any danger--he
always found her ready to greet him, and every little preparation made
for his comfort that was possible under the circumstances. Indeed, as
time went on, they thought it more convenient to set up their own little
mess instead of sharing that of their friends. So every day they used to
sit down to breakfast and dine together at a little table contrived out
of a packing-case, and placed under an extemporised tent, for all the
world like a young couple picnicking on their honeymoon. Of course, the
situation was very irksome in a way, but it is not to be denied that it
had a charm of its own.

To begin with, once thoroughly known, Jess was one of the most
delightful companions possible to a man like John Niel. Never, till this
long _tete-a-tete_ at Pretoria, had he guessed how powerful and original
was her mind, or how witty she could be when she liked. There was a fund
of dry and suggestive humour about her, which, although it would no more
bear being written down than champagne will bear standing in a tumbler,
was very pleasant to listen to, more especially as John soon discovered
that he was the only person so privileged. Her friends and relations had
never suspected that Jess was humorous. Another thing which struck him
as time went on, was that she was growing quite handsome. She had been
very pale and thin when he reached Pretoria, but before a month was over
she had become, comparatively speaking, stout, which was an enormous
gain to her appearance. Her pale face, too, gathered a faint tinge of
colour that came and went capriciously, like star-light on the water,
and her beautiful eyes grew deeper and more beautiful than ever.

"Who would ever have thought that it was the same girl!" said Mrs.
Neville to him, holding up her hands as she watched Jess solemnly
surveying a half-cooked mutton chop. "Why, she used to be such a poor
creature, and now she's quite a fine woman. And that with this life,
too, which is wearing me to a shadow and has half-killed my dear
daughter."

"I suppose it is being in the open air," said John, it having never
occur