, not only to herself but to the other
witness, Elvesdon. What was it, then, but an act of cold-blooded,
deliberate murder--in intent? Clearly there existed the strongest
reasons for silencing the Zulu? And then a ghastly thought came into
her mind. Could it be that he had been an accomplice in that terrible
tragedy whose shadow had so early darkened her young life? Her first
repulsion for the Zulu--which had begun to give way to a reaction in his
favour since his narrow escape from death--returned a hundredfold with
this new idea. Should she question him, she asked herself? What was
the use? He would tell her nothing.

"Don't think any more about it, dear," Evelyn now rejoined. "It was
only that I can see how bitterly your father feels your attitude towards
him that moved me to refer to a matter which you have every right to
tell me is no business of mine at all."

Edala hardened again.

"Has he been--complaining then?" she said, with a return of bitterness.

"Is it likely? Is he that sort of man, do you think? Ah child, you
don't know what you are doing when you are throwing away the affection
of such a father as yours, and repelling and wounding him at every turn.
And some day, when it is too late, you may--"

She stopped. The other had put out a hand and stopped her. Those were
just her father's own words, and now, for the first time, they struck
her as horribly prophetic. Her eyes filled.

"I'm several years older than you, Edala, and I've seen a very great
deal of life from all its sides. Mind, I'm not saying this to patronise
or talk down to you, only to emphasise what an appallingly scarce thing
real affection is. And I can't bear to go away without having made some
effort towards making you realise it too. That's all that lies at the
bottom of my `beastly interference,' as you are calling it within your
own mind," she added with a smile.

"`To go away'!" repeated Edala, with scornful emphasis, and dropping a
hand upon that of the other. "But you're not going away, so don't let's
hear any more about it."

"I've not come to live here, you know," was the laughing rejoinder.
"Well then, we won't talk any more about parting company just yet since
you're not quite so anxious to get rid of me as I thought. Do you know,
Edala, I have hardly any friends, almost none--acquaintances, yes,"--in
reply to the look of astonishment evoked by the statement--"plenty of
them. I am not exactly poor eit