rred to think the contrary--that she understood my purpose
and concurred in it. I had been here now some months, and we had seen
each other daily, and the complete cordiality of our intercourse, with
never a hitch, never a jar, so far from waning, had, if possible,
increased. I had resolved to-day to bring matters to a head; yet in
the--to me--complete happiness of this our ride together, I seemed to
defer anything that might break the charm. I would leave it to our
return ride. So we chatted on as usual, and gaily, about one thing and
another, and then, even if I had wished it otherwise it was too late,
for we could see the white tilts of Cape carts and buggies coming from
different directions along road and veldt path--riders, too, like
ourselves, but all converging upon the common objective. Then the
increasing "whang-whang" of a bell, as we drew nearer to this, seemed to
cause a general hurry up on the part of all within sight.

I off-saddled our horses and knee-haltered them, among others performing
the same operation; Beryl the while having gone forward to greet the
people of the place and other acquaintances, and these were many, for of
course everybody knew everybody. Just as we were going in Trask bore
down upon us.

"I say, Miss Matterson, and you, Holt. Come in front, will you, and
help to make a choir. I'm rounding up as many as I can."

"Not going to have Christmas over again, eh, Trask?" I said
maliciously, the point of which being that Trask, who really did know
something about music, and was _ex officio_ organist, or to be more
accurate, harmoniumist, had on the occasion referred to undertaken to
launch out into anthems and carols and all sorts of things unknown to
the multitude: such ambitious soarings, and the letting off of wholly
extemporised and weird harmonic fireworks on the instrument, which he
called "accompaniment" resulting in the silence, by relays, of the whole
body of singers; though not before the latter had ingeniously if
unconsciously blended the "Adeste fideles," the "Old Hundredth," "Coming
through the Rye," and other historic and popular melodies into one
inspiring whole. It may be readily imagined that of this fiasco Trask
did not quickly hear the end, wherefore he liked not my present
reference.

"Oh, go to blazes, Holt," he retorted pepperily. "I'd like to know what
you'd have done in my place with such a lot of--of--" and here he was
obliged to stop short, rememberi