She laughed at the recollection of her former prejudice.

"You told the truth, Mr. Weldon. One of the men I danced with, last
season, is riding across Natal in the same squadron with his groom.
In my one London season, I met only officers. Out here, I find Lord
Thomas turned into Tommy Atkins, and I meet him every day. But,
aside from the war, what do you think of Cape Town?"

"What would I think of Table Mountain without its tablecloth?" he
parried. "In both cases, the two things seem inseparable."

"Wait till you know the place better, then," she advised him. "It
really does have a life of its own, apart from its military
setting."

"I am afraid there's not much chance of my knowing it better," he
answered a little regretfully.

"Maitland is only three miles away, and you've not met my mother
yet," she suggested.

"Is she at home now?" Weldon asked, with the conscious air of a man
suddenly recalled to his social duty.

"Not this afternoon. She has taken Miss Arthur for a drive through
Rondebosch. That is quite one of the things to do, you know."

"I didn't know. Is the redoubtable Miss Arthur well?"

The dimple beside the girl's firm lips displayed itself suddenly,
and her eyes lighted.

"Wonderfully. Her convalescence has been remarkably short. More
remarkable still is the fact that she has neglected to mention her
illness to any one."

"How soon does she go back?"

The blue eyes met his eyes in frank merriment.

"Not until she has finished informing my mother of the present
London code of chaperonage."

Weldon raised his brows.

"Then I shall find her here, when I come back at the end of the
war."

She made no pretence of misunderstanding him.

"Are you so much less strict in Canada?"

"We are--different," he confessed. "Miss Arthur's lorgnette would be
impossible with us. I don't mean the lorgnette itself; but the acute
accent which she contrives to give to it. Mrs. Scott is more of a
colonial matron."

"Dear little lady! Have you seen her since she landed?"

"Once. They are at the Mount Nelson, and Carew and I called on them
there. They are leaving for De Aar, Monday."

"And what about Mr. Carew?"

"He goes with me to Maitland. He is Trooper Carew now."

The girl sat staring thoughtfully out across the lawn.

"I wonder what sort of a soldier he will make," she said, half to
herself. Weldon faced her sharply.

"Why?"

"Because life is an embodied joke to him."

Weldon rose a