she scribbled a
few sentences. "I hope all is well with you. We are very busy
here. Matilda is better, and I am quite fit and enjoying the work.
Is Mary Ann looking after you properly?" She paused there.
Somehow the thought of Burke with only the Kaffir servants to
minister to him sent an odd little pang through her. She had begun
to accustom him to better things. She wondered if he were
lonely--if he wanted her. Ought she to offer to go back?

Something cried out sharply within her at the thought. Her whole
being shrank as the old nightmare horror swept back upon her.
No--no! She could not face it--not yet. The memory of his
implacability, his ruthlessness, arose like a menacing wave,
shaking her to the soul.

Then, suddenly, the vision changed. She saw him as she had seen
him on that last night, when she had awaked to find him kneeling by
her bed. And again that swift pang went through her. She did not
ask herself again if he wanted her.

The door of her room opened on to the yard. She heard Merston lead
his horse up to the front of the bungalow and stand talking to his
wife who was just inside. She knew that in a moment or two his
cheery shout would come to her, calling for the note.

Hastily she resumed her task. "If there is any mending to be done,
send it back by Bill."

Again she paused. Matilda was laughing at something her husband had
said. It was only lately that she had begun to laugh.

Almost immediately came an answering shout of laughter from
Merston, and then his boyish yell to her.

"Hi, Sylvia! How much longer are you going to keep me waiting for
that precious love-letter?"

She called an answer to him, dashing off final words as she did so.
"I feel I am doing some good here, but if you should specially wish
it, of course I will come back at any time." For a second more she
hesitated, then simply wrote her name.

Folding up the hurried scrawl, she was conscious of a strong sense
of dissatisfaction, but she would not reopen it. There was nothing
more to be said.

She went out with it to Bill Merston, and met his chaff with
careless laughter.

"You haven't told him to come and fetch you away, I hope?" Matilda
said, as he rode away.

And she smiled and answered, "No, not unless he specially needs me."

"You don't want to go ?" Matilda asked abruptly.

"Not unless you are tired of me," Sylvia rejoined.

"Don't be silly!" said Matilda briefly.

Half an hour after Mer