willows, away over the flat, then, as the track dipped into a
slight depression, he saw it no more.

All the way out, all that day, he had been trying to picture his
reception, and very alluring had that occupation proved. He had never,
as we have said, been away from Mona before, not away beyond reach, that
is. How would she receive him? He thought he knew. Then, as the house
again came into view, he strained his eyes for the first glimpse of that
supple, exquisitely modelled form, for the first flutter of a dress.
Yet no such glimpse rewarded him.

He was in a fanciful vein, and the circumstance of this dejection struck
him with a sort of chill. He rode up to the door amid the clamour of
the yelling pack, which, ever aggressive, charged him open-mouthed, a
demeanour which speedily subsided into much jumping and tail-wagging as
his identity became manifest. Then a gleam of light drapery down among
the willows caught his eye. Ah, there she was, but not alone; for both
Suffield and his wife were there, and the trio seemed to be indulging in
the most prosaic of evening strolls. This then was to be that
often-dwelt-on first meeting--a conventional hand-shake, a mere
platitude of a "How d'you do?" In which especial particular the irony
of circumstances manifests itself more often than not.

"Hallo, Musgrave! We were expecting you to-night or to-morrow," sang
out Suffield. "Glad it's to-night. Well, how are you? How many Gaikas
did you bowl over, and all the rest of it?"

There was no mistaking the cordiality of their greetings, anyway. And
the swift glad flash of intense joy in Mona's eyes, and the pressure of
her fingers told all that could have been told had their meeting taken
place alone.

"Come in and have a glass of grog, Musgrave," went on Suffield, "and
tell us the news from the front. Though, by the way, that'll keep till
after I've counted in. There's Booi's flock nearly here already, I see.
Never mind. We'll have our _sobje_ anyhow."

There was something in the situation that reminded Roden of his first
visit here; for Suffield soon departed to look after his sheep, and his
wife did likewise to see to her lambs--i.e. her nursery; leaving him
alone with Mona. How well he remembered it; the same sunset glow, the
same attitude, the easy, subtle, sensuous grace of that splendid figure
standing there by the open window outlined against the roseate sky.
Even now that the moment he had been thirs