y served to
emphasise the subsequent disillusionment. To be content with the love
of one--no, that was not in her. New life, new love--the new wine of
life! That was to live indeed.

She looked around on the glowing veldt, shimmering in the afternoon
heat. Away on yonder rise a line of black objects was moving. She got
out the binocular, a clear and powerful glass, and the objects seemed
about fifty yards away--a score of sable antelope moving through the low
bush, some of them magnificent specimens of that noble buck, and she
could clearly distinguish the great scimitar-like horns and black hides,
so markedly defined. Yes, this was a grand country for men, but for
women, debarred from all outdoor sport and excitement, why it was a
living grave. And then, as she looked, suddenly the leaders of the line
threw up their heads, stopped short, snuffing the air, and then the
whole line turned about and trotted back in the direction from which
they had come.

What had alarmed the animals? Sweeping the glass round carefully it
revealed another object, a man on horseback, and her heart gave a great
bound of delight.

"It is. It's Justin," she exclaimed half aloud. "The dear boy! How
glad I am. But--what on earth--? What a hurry he's in!"

For the advancing rider was coming along at something like a hard
gallop, which was no pace at which to push a horse on a sweltering day
like this. Then Hermia began a little piece of acting. She went into
the house, and arranging herself on an old wicker couch covered with a
leopard skin rug, began to read.

"Missis--Baas riding this way. Tink it Baas Spence." This from the
grinning woolly head of Tickey, inserted through the open doorway.
Hermia rose, stretched herself, and the book still in her hand came and
stood in the doorway. Then she stretched herself again and thus he
found her.

"Why, Justin? Who would have thought of seeing you?" This with round,
astonished eyes.

"But--aren't you glad to, dearest?" He was looking her up and down, a
tremor of love in his voice, a world of hungry passionate adoration in
his gaze.

"You know I am, dear love. Come inside."

She had put out her hand to him, and he, still holding it, needed no
second bidding. Once within, however, he seized her splendid form--its
lines the more seductive through the thin, summer transparency of her
light attire--in a strong and passionate embrace.

"Justin, Justin, let me go!" she urge