-ourself. The Kaffer girl threw
some coffee on my arm in bed this morning; I felt displeased, but said
nothing. Tant Sannie would have thrown the saucer at her and sworn for
an hour; but the feeling would be the same irritated displeasure. If a
huge animated stomach like Bonaparte were put under a glass by a
skilful mental microscopist, even he would be found to have an embryonic
doubling somewhere indicative of a heart, and rudimentary buddings that
might have become conscience and sincerity. Let me take your arm Waldo.

"How full you are of mealie dust. No, never mind. It will brush off. And
sometimes what is more amusing still than tracing the likeness between
man and man, is to trace the analogy there always is between the
progress and development of one individual and of a whole nation; or,
again, between a single nation and the entire human race. It is pleasant
when it dawns on you that the one is just the other written out in large
letters; and very odd to find all the little follies and virtues, and
developments and retrogressions, written out in the big world's book
that you find in your little internal self. It is the most amusing thing
I know of; but of course, being a woman, I have not often time for such
amusements. Professional duties always first, you know. It takes a great
deal of time and thought always to look perfectly exquisite, even for a
pretty woman. Is the old buggy still in existence, Waldo?"

"Yes, but the harness is broken."

"Well, I wish you would mend it. You must teach me to drive. I must
learn something while I am here. I got the Hottentot girl to show me how
to make sarsarties this morning; and Tant Sannie is going to teach me to
make kapjes. I will come and sit with you this afternoon while you mend
the harness."

"Thank you."

"No, don't thank me; I come for my own pleasure. I never find any one
I can talk to. Women bore me, and men, I talk so to--'Going to the ball
this evening? Nice little dog that of yours. Pretty little ears. So fond
of pointer pups!' And they think me fascinating, charming! Men are like
the earth, and we are the moon; we turn always one side to them, and
they think there is no other, because they don't see it--but there is."

They had reached the house now.

"Tell me when you set to work," she said, and walked toward the door.

Waldo stood to look after her, and Doss stood at his side, a look of
painful uncertainty depicted on his small countenance, and on