went to the gate, she leaning slightly against him, as they walked,
his hand passed lovingly through her arm. And they looked an ideal pair
physically, he with his six foot of strong English manhood, his bronzed
face, fine and thoughtful, though even now unable to shake off the
recollection of crowding in troubles; she, lithe and rounded, moving
with the perfect grace of a natural and unstudied ease, her large grey
eyes, thickly lashed, wide open and luminous with the sheer delight of
this meeting, her cheeks just a little browned with the generous kiss of
the African sun. Yes, they seemed an ideal pair, and yet--and yet--this
is a world wherein there is no room for ideals.

When they returned to the house they were met by old Sanna, voluble.

"_Daag, Klein Missis. Ja_, but--I am glad you are come. Now you will
make the Baas eat his dinner, ah, yes--surely you will do that. Nothing
since breakfast, and out all day in the hot sun, and says he will not
eat. And I have made him what he likes best."

The new arrival looked for a moment at Wyvern, then, with decision:
"Bring in the dinner, Sanna, and you can put two plates. I am going to
have some too."

The old woman crowed.

"See now what I always say. It is time we had a Missis here. What is a
farm without a Missis? It is like a _schuilpaad_ [tortoise] without a
shell." And she went out, chuckling, to re-appear in about a minute
with the rejected tray.

"_Nouw ja_! that is where _Klein Missis_' place ought to be," began old
Sanna, pointing to the other end of the table. "But the Baas piles it
up with rubbish and paper, and all sorts of stuff only good to collect
dust and tarantulas. But he will have to make room for you soon there,
_Klein Missis_. How soon?"

"Don't you ask questions, old Sanna," answered the girl with a laugh.
"Meanwhile I prefer sitting here, nearer. We needn't talk so loud then
to make each other hear, do you see?"

The old woman's yellow face puckered into delighted wrinkles. She was
not altogether free from the failings of her race, but she had a very
real and motherly affection for Wyvern, and would in all probability
have gone through fire and water for him if put to the test.

"Mind you make the coffee extra well to-day, old Sanna," called out
Wyvern, as she turned back to the kitchen.

"Now help me, darling," said the girl, as they sat down to table. "It
is delightful, being all to ourselves like this. Isn't it?"