ne. He hated them all.

This brought a meaning smile to Aletta's face. She remembered Adrian's
manner when he had first come upon her--and the Englishman--but an hour
or two before.

"But, Adrian," she said, "why are you so bitter against the English now?
You used not to be. Of course we must get the land back from them, but
we need not drive them all out. Some of the better ones might remain."

"There are no `better ones,'" he replied, vehemently.

"I would not say that. Our English neighbours round here, what few
there are, seem nice enough. There is Mrs Wenlock, for instance, and
Frank--I haven't seen the daughter yet. And then there is that Mr
Kershaw--he seems a particularly pleasant sort of man."

At this the resentful scowl on Adrian's face deepened. His strong hand
opened and shut once or twice as though gripping at somebody's throat.

"So you seemed to think when I came upon you this morning," he answered
in a sort of growl. Aletta started, and gazed at him in wide-eyed
astonishment.

"Why, Adrian, I never saw the man until last evening," she said, gently,
but conscious that the colour was flowing over her face in waves. For
the blunt retort had, as it were, in a flash opened her mind to herself,
and what she saw therein had frightened her.

"So? Then you have turned your time to very quick use," he answered.
Then, seeing her start away from him with a cold, yet hurt, look, his
tone changed entirely. "Forgive me, Aletta, darling. I am jealous, I
suppose, and, of course, a fool. But I love you. I always have since
we were children together. And I have been longing and longing for you
to come back, and have been counting the weeks to it. Ask Andrina if I
have not. Then when you do come back, and I see you for the first time,
it is with this Englishman. Forgive me if I have said anything to
offend you, Aletta, and say you will marry me. I love you so."

His tone was deep and soft and pleading, and the listener, stealing a
look at his face, could not but feel much moved. He was so intensely in
earnest. And he was a really fine-looking young fellow was this young
Dutchman, a lover of whom any girl might feel the reverse of ashamed.
As a matter of fact this one did so feel, and her voice was very soft as
she answered:

"Oh, Adrian, why did you ask me? I don't see how I can."

It was a pretty lame answer, and she felt it to be. He, for his part,
proceeded to improve the occasion and