chanced, she had been away from home, when
Weldon had finally left the house. It had been the fulfilment of an
old promise which had taken her to spend two days with a friend in
Newlands. She had had no notion that the time for Weldon's going
away was at hand. Neither, on the other hand, had Weldon any idea
that Ethel was absent from home. He had merely taken advantage of
the first day when the doctor had ceased to oppose his removal. It
had been to him a cruel disappointment that Mrs. Dent had stood
alone on the steps to watch his departure.

That was three weeks before. Ethel had supposed that Weldon would
sail for home at once. He had supposed so, too, until all at once he
had found it impossible to turn his back upon Cape Town and all it
held. Deep down in his heart was the memory of Carew's words,
assuring him of the reason of Ethel's sudden journey to Johannesburg
after the fight at Vlaakfontein. The episode was now far away in the
past. It might chance, however, that something of the old mood might
linger in her mind. Carew had felt sure of her love for him. Perhaps
she had loved him once, before the Captain had won the first place
in her heart. Perhaps--He had grown dizzy and had grasped the edge
of the pillow to steady himself, the first time the idea had dawned
upon him--Perhaps, now that the Captain had gone beyond the reach of
human love, he might win her to care for himself once more. The
chance appeared to him to be wellnigh impossible; yet, while it
lingered in his mind, he could not force himself to go away from
Cape Town.

The worst of his convalescence was ended, before he was allowed to
leave the Dents' home. He strained every nerve to hasten his full
recovery. The path of Ethel Dent was not parallel to the course of
any semi-invalid. If he were to meet her at all, it must be as a man
in full health. By degrees, the color came back to his face, his
lean figure lost something of its lankness, his tread grew firmer
and more alert. But the old shadow still lingered in his eyes; the
strained lines about his lips did not relax. Weldon's mental healing
kept no pace with his physical one.

By degrees, too, his table littered itself with cards of invitation.
As yet, he felt himself too weak for any but the most informal
functions; and Carew, always at his elbow, assured him from his own
experience that informality, just then, was an unknown word in the
social vocabulary of Cape Town. Carew, bidden on all