black man in white linen drawers running through
the pale fields for dear life, with a large brown-paper parcel in his
hands. Josephine's black man was tiny; he scurried along glistening like
an ant. But there was something blind and tireless about Constantia's
tall, thin fellow, which made him, she decided, a very unpleasant person
indeed... On the veranda, dressed all in white and wearing a cork helmet,
stood Benny. His right hand shook up and down, as father's did when he
was impatient. And behind him, not in the least interested, sat Hilda,
the unknown sister-in-law. She swung in a cane rocker and flicked over
the leaves of the "Tatler."

"I think his watch would be the most suitable present," said Josephine.

Constantia looked up; she seemed surprised.

"Oh, would you trust a gold watch to a native?"

"But of course, I'd disguise it," said Josephine. "No one would know
it was a watch." She liked the idea of having to make a parcel such a
curious shape that no one could possibly guess what it was. She
even thought for a moment of hiding the watch in a narrow cardboard
corset-box that she'd kept by her for a long time, waiting for it to
come in for something. It was such beautiful, firm cardboard. But, no,
it wouldn't be appropriate for this occasion. It had lettering on it:
"Medium Women's 28. Extra Firm Busks." It would be almost too much of a
surprise for Benny to open that and find father's watch inside.

"And of course it isn't as though it would be going--ticking, I mean,"
said Constantia, who was still thinking of the native love of jewellery.
"At least," she added, "it would be very strange if after all that time
it was."

Chapter 3.VIII.

Josephine made no reply. She had flown off on one of her tangents.
She had suddenly thought of Cyril. Wasn't it more usual for the only
grandson to have the watch? And then dear Cyril was so appreciative, and
a gold watch meant so much to a young man. Benny, in all probability,
had quite got out of the habit of watches; men so seldom wore waistcoats
in those hot climates. Whereas Cyril in London wore them from year's end
to year's end. And it would be so nice for her and Constantia, when he
came to tea, to know it was there. "I see you've got on grandfather's
watch, Cyril." It would be somehow so satisfactory.

Dear boy! What a blow his sweet, sympathetic little note had been! Of
course they quite understood; but it was most unfortunate.

"It would have been su