To-day, as she had welcomed the tall Canadian in his irreproachable frock-coat, she had known a sudden pang of regret.Undeniably, his tailor was an artist.Nevertheless, she liked him better as she had seen him last, in his stained khaki and his well-worn shoes, bending over her hand in farewell, then taking The Nig's bridle from the waiting Kruger Bobs, to leap into the tarnished saddle, lift his hat and ride away out of sight.No one but Ethel herself had known that it was not distance alone which had rendered him invisible to her.
And the next week in the hospital had dragged perceptibly.At the end of that time, she had been quite ready to say good by to Johannesburg and all that it contained.But, meanwhile, her smile gave no clue to her memories, as she offered her hand to Weldon.
"I knew you were here," she said cordially; "and I have any number of things to talk over with you.There is no talking for me now, though, with all these people on my hands.Can't you stay on and dine with us? That will give us an hour to gossip comfortably, and Captain Frazer is to be the only other guest.I asked him, on the chance of your appearing.Oh, good afternoon, Colonel Douglas!"And Weldon found himself swept on out of her radius.
He took refuge beside Mrs.Dent and, from that safe slack-water, he made a thorough survey of the room.It was the first time he had been present at one of the Dents' reception days, and he acknowledged himself surprised at what he saw.Here and there an acquaintance nodded to him; but, for the most part, he was a stranger to the guests, save for the dozen whom he knew well by sight and better still by reputation.Moreover, while he watched her, he began to wonder whether he were not something of a stranger to Ethel herself.This stately girl was not the comrade with whom he had tramped the deck of the Dunottar Castle, nor yet the friend of his early days in Cape Town, nor yet again the blithe companion of his last tedious hours of convalescence.This girl was altogether admirable; but a bit awe-inspiring withal.He watched the non-chalant ease with which she provided a white-haired veteran of many wars and many orders with a cup of steaming tea, and then sat and chatted with him while he drank it.He felt himself a bashful boy, as he watched her, and, like any other bashful boy, he fell to talking to Mrs.Dent about his mother.
Then the last visitor made a reluctant exit, and Ethel crossed the room to his side.With the passing of the little throng of guests her assured manners had passed, and she met him with the same informal manner which had marked those last days at Johannesburg.
"Now," she said, as she dropped down beside her mother's chair; "you must tell me all about everything, Mr.Weldon.And, first of all, are you quite strong again?"Question had followed question, eager, girlish and sincere, until Weldon's answers had covered all the interval since they last had met.At length, the delicate little mother had gone away to rest before time for dinner.Weldon's strong arm had half-supported, half-carried her up the staircase.Then, returning to the drawing-room, he had joined Ethel beside the deserted tea-table.
"After six months of the billy and the fryingpan, it is wonderfully good to handle china again," he said, as he halted on the hearth rug and stood smiling down at her.
She smiled back at him in full approval.Weldon looked very much the lord of creation, as he stood there with his back to the fire and one elbow resting on the mantel beside him.The position suited him, and, speaking in quite another sense, it suited her also.
"Then a taste of civilization is pleasant now and then, even to a grizzled warrior like yourself?" she questioned lightly.
"Yes, for the time being.One never knows, though, how long that time being will last.""What shall you do, when the war ends?"
"Go home, take up a share in the pater's business, and grow stout and lazy," he answered her unsmilingly.
"An alluring prospect."
"Yes; but there will be other things: an occasional dinner, and even a tea now and then."Leaning back in her chair, she looked up at him through her long yellow lashes.
"And shall you never remember to miss Africa?" she asked indolently.
His eyes rested upon her gravely.
"Yes, often.Moreover forgive my bluntness, but it is one of the privileges of a soldier--moreover, Miss Dent, I shall miss you."Her color came; but she made no effort to ignore his words.
"Thank you," she said, with equal gravity."I am glad to have you say so.But I hope it may be long before that day comes." "I can't tell.I had expected to sail for home, in a week or two.Now I am not so sure.""Whether you wish to?"
"Whether I ought.When I left the Transvaal, the work seemed nearly done.Down here, the stories are less promising." He paused; then he added thoughtfully, "But it leaves me a good deal puzzled in my mind."Coffee was served in the drawing-room, that night.Ethel roused herself from a reverie as Weldon and Captain Frazer joined her.To their half-mocking questions, she admitted the fact of her thoughtfulness.To neither one did she see fit to acknowledge its cause.The mood passed swiftly, however, and it left her more brilliantly gay than either man had ever seen her until then.Each frankly confessed himself dazzled; each one of them, more grave by nature than she often showed herself, was secretly uneasy lest her sudden overflow of spirits was in some fashion directed towards his companion; yet so skilfully did she lead the conversation that, at the evening's end, neither Weldon nor the Captain could produce any valid claim to being considered the favored guest.
"It has been good to have you here," she said gayly, as she gave them each a hand at parting."Even if I was not present at your meeting, I have always felt that I had a finger-tip, at least, in your friendship." Then, as she dropped their hands, she faced the Captain with sudden seriousness."Captain Frazer," she said slowly;"Mr.Weldon's time is over, and he has left the service.He thinks the fighting is all done.I am only a woman; I can't explain things very clearly, and so," she hesitated a little; "and so I think Ishall leave his soul in your hands.There are plenty of people still in South Africa; there are never too many men." And, with a grave little nod, half intent, half girlish, she turned away from the door, leaving the heavy drapery to sway to and fro behind her.
