e tail, because then you can let go when you like."

Obviously van Hert must be tackled first, but she waited until the
morning after sending her wire, hoping for a reply. It came early, and
fortune favoured her in that she received her orange-coloured envelope
unknown to anyone. She carried it upstairs and opened it with a
beating, anxious heart. It contained only two words, and was not
signed:--

"Arrive Saturday."

For a moment she felt a little dazed. He was coming then, the stern
soldier-policeman. What in the world was she to say to him?...

Then a flood of gladness began to well up in her heart. After all, it
meant before all things, that a day of great joy might be at hand for
Meryl. Did anything else really matter?... If she personally came
through the transaction a little battered--well, it wouldn't really
matter, if Meryl and The Bear were safely off the rocks. Rather than
let any shadowy good for South Africa come between them now she would
marry van Hert herself, and at that she gave a little low laugh. In
the meantime she had three days to think out a plan and convey to van
Hert some sort of preparation.

When he came that Wednesday evening it was easily seen that he was
feverish. His eyes were unnaturally bright and his face flushed, and
at dinner he only played with his food and ate nothing. He talked and
laughed gaily, but with intermittent shivering which he tried hard to
hide. Everyone saw it, and Meryl grew concerned. He tried to laugh it
off, but was not successful. Finally Mr. Pym advised him to go home to
bed. And then Aunt Emily made the crowning blunder of her life, and
like some other big blunders now historical, it proved a blessing in
disguise.

She glanced at Diana with a scared face and exclaimed in perturbation,
"Now if the wedding is put off it will be your fault, Diana. I told
you it must bring ill-luck to speak about it as you did."

There was an awkward pause, and in spite of herself Diana flushed
scarlet.

"What did Diana say?" van Hert asked of Aunt Emily, half grave and
half casual.

The poor lady, having quickly discovered she had made an unfortunate
remark and become considerably flurried, made matters worse by
stammering guiltily, "O, it was nothing much; she was only talking at
random. She ... she ..."--distressfully discovering van Hert's eyes
still fixed upon her--"said something about hoping the wedding would
be postponed, and I said it was unlucky."

For a mome