door, reiterating, her
belief in a coming change. Certainly the sky was overcast, but the
clouds often came up thickly at night and dispersed again without
shedding any rain. There had not been rain for months.

Very grimly Matilda Merston watched the departure of her unwelcome
visitor, enduring the dust that rose from his horse's hoofs with
the patience of inflexible determination. Then, when she had seen
him go and the swirling dust had begun to settle again, she turned
inwards and proceeded to wash the glass that the Boer had used with
an expression of fixed disgust.

Suddenly she spoke. "I shouldn't believe anything that man said on
oath."

"Neither should I," said Sylvia quietly. She did not look up from
her task, and Matilda Merston said no more.

There was a brief silence, then Sylvia spoke again. "You are very
good to me," she said.

"My dear!" said Matilda almost sharply.

Sylvia's hands were trembling a little, but she continued to occupy
them. "You must sometimes wonder why Guy is so much to me," she
said. "I think it has been very sweet of you never to ask. But I
feel I should like to tell you about it."

"Of course; if you want to," said Matilda.

"I do want you to know," Sylvia said, with slight effort. "You
have taken me so much on trust. And I never even told you how I
came to meet--and marry--Burke."

"There was no necessity for you to tell me," said Matilda.

"Perhaps not. But you must have thought it rather sudden--rather
strange." Sylvia's fingers moved a little more rapidly. "You see,
I came out here engaged to marry Guy."

"Good gracious!" said Matilda.

Sylvia glanced up momentarily. "We had been engaged for years. We
were engaged before he ever came here. We--loved each other.
But--" Words failed her suddenly; she drew a short, hard breath
and was silent.

"He let you down?" said Matilda.

She nodded.

Matilda's face hardened. "That was Burke's doing."

"No--no!" Sylvia found her voice again with an effort. "It isn't
fair to say that. Burke tried to help him,--has tried--many times.
He may have been harsh to him; he may have made mistakes. But I
know he has tried to help him."

"Was that why he married you?" asked Matilda, with a bitter curl of
the lip.

Sylvia winced. "No. I--don't quite know what made him think of
that. Perhaps--in a way--he felt he ought. I was thrown on his
protection, and he never would believe that I was capable of
fend