The Man at Mulera Kathryn Blair

 

T he Man a att Mulera 

Kath athryn ryn Blair   To hop from K Kensi ensingt ngton on t o Nyas Nyasala aland nd at a mom moment ent ’s not notic ice e was di dist sturbi urbing, ng, but so intent was Lou Prent Prentice ice on her mi mission, ssion, t hat she scarcely noticed t he flight flight.. Lou was t o pick up her cousin s lit lit t le boy, suddenly lleft eft an orphan, and bring him home. It proved tto o be a very difficult mat mattt er!

  CHAPTER ONE

Except for one overnight stop and several shorter ones, Lou Prentice had been travelling for about sixty hours and she had covered six thousand miles, but she still had that breathless feeling which had started in London, four days ago. And now that her third plane was nearing Chekwe there was uncertainty as well. Surely she ought to have advised someone she was coming? But whom? The solicitor had written from Zomba, but her destination had to be Chekwe; where Keith was staying with the Gilmores. And Lou didn’t know the Gilmores’ address; addres s; she onl only y knew t here was a plantat ion and that Dick Dick Weston had managed it. Poor Dick ... and poor darling Dorothy. It was just unbelievable that they could have gone for a ride into the mountains and crashed so tragically. Lou’s heart seemed permanently constricted, but the one most to be pitied now, of course, was little Keith, who had lost both parents t hat mi mist sty y aft ernoo ernoon. n. T hank heav heaven en he wasn’t old enough tto o gri grieve. eve. Lou smiled tenderly and shook her head. She would make up for his loss in every way she knew. In England he would have a Grandpa—albeit a fierce old man—and he would always have Lou to love and care for him, just as Dorothy had loved and cared for Lou. It was going to take some arranging, of course, but thank heaven she had a couple of months in which to do it Fortunately, when she had had to make her decision it had needed only a fortnight to the summer holidays, and Miss Buckland, who was the principal of the kindergarten where Lou taught, had been very good about her leaving at once for Central Africa. Lou drew a deep breath, blinked her clear grey eyes at the vast dimensions of Lake Nyasa  whose shore was visi visible ble t hrough her window, and t hought back over t he past t wo weeks rather more coherently than she had imagined possible a few days ago. First, there had been the letter from the solicitor, informing her about the accident to her cousin Dorothy and her husband. With professional detachment the man had mentioned that the child was being cared for and t hat Mi Miss ss Pr Prent ent ice would be given m more ore det ail ails s in due course. After the first shock of grief at losing the person she loved best in the world, Lou had been furious. Keith was only five and he hadn’t a soul he could turn to in Nyasa-land; he had apparently been taken temporarily into someone’s house to await disposal. Lou had recalled Dorothy’s last visit to England, when she had brought Keith over to see her father, her rather t ouching appeal; “Lou, dear dear,, it ’s s somet ometim imes es a bit ffri right ght ening tto o be out in Africa wit without hout a relative nearby. If I needed you, you’d come, wouldn’t you?”

 

Lou had answered warmly, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Dorothy—you know that. One good t hin hing g about bei being ng a kinder kindergarten garten t eacher iis s t he long hol holida idays!” ys!” T hey hadn’ hadn’tt dis discusse cussed d it it—t —there here had been no need. L Lou ou had merel merely y reflec reflectt ed t hat when you

grow up in the care of someone as she had grown up in Dorothy s, it takes more than a few thousand miles to separate you. Since Dorothy had married Dick and gone out to Africa with him, Lou had nat urall urally y corresponded wit h her regularl regularly y, and it had been marvel marvellous lous tto o have her come home with t he baby. Almost, she had been persuaded tto o give up her t raining and go back wit wit h Dor Dorot othy hy tto o Che Chekwe. kwe. Well, her fury at the solicitor’s letter had crystallized into a long cablegram, which had been answered by another four days ago. “Louise Prentice,” it read, “is appointed legal guardian of Keith Weston by the will of his parents. Please advise whether convenient for you to visit Nyasaland. Nyasal and.”” Cool as you llike. ike. Not a w word ord about what was happening t o tthe he chil child! d! T hat aft ernoon ernoon,, Lou had rush rushed ed st strai raight ght from the litt le s school chool in K Kensi ensingt ngton on t o t he office of a travel agent. She had come away almost penniless but assured of an air ticket, and gone down to see her brother at Richmond. He had been against the sudden trip, but his wife had talked him round; in fact, she had even made him promise that he would see that unlikeable old hermit hermit Dor Dorot othy’ hy’s s fat her. Lou hadn’t thought of telegraphing the solicitor in Zomba. Even if it had occurred to her she might not have done so. A man who considered it possible that the legal guardian of a child might not find it convenient to travel out to collect him, was altogether too casual. Lou in intt ende ended d tto o go rrig ight ht t o tthe he hea heart rt of t he m mat attt er, er, and ac actt . The plane met an air pocket and dropped. The other passengers, Lou noticed, were unperturbed, and she conceded that it was a sensation to which one might become accustomed in this country where distances were so great that the plane was the only sensible way to travel. However, she was glad when the steward came along to tell her that they would be touching down at Chekwe in ten minutes. She looked anxiously into her pocket mirror, saw parts of a clear young face, streaky brown and gold hair and grey eyes that looked as if they were trying sleepily to harden against whatever might be in store. Actually, she was  wondering what she would do if t here were no hot el in Chekwe. Oh, well, she t hought philosophical phil osophically, ly, in t im ime e every q query uery would b be e answ answered. ered. But she had t o confess to a queer sensation as tthe he pl plane ane cam came e down t o land o on n a concr concret ete e strip which seemed to be set in the midst of hundreds of miles of bush savannah. True, there  was a small off offici icial al hut w wit ith h a flag waving from t he st staff aff b beside eside iitt , but t he air airfield field seem seemed ed tto o be quite unconnected unconnect ed wit with h civi civililizat zat ion. Lou was the only passenger for Chekwe, and her two suitcases had been conveniently placed unloading. She hardlyBut reached the hut on singularly whenshe the was twin enginesfor revved, ready for had take-off. Lou didn’t watch the plane.rubbery For thelegs present t hankful t o have done wi witt h air t rave ravel. l. The heat was palpable, but lessening. The sun had gone and a strangely gentle dusk was creeping creep ing up from the east . Insi nside, de, t he hut was dim but it had white- pai paint nted ed wall walls s and was very neat An African official was standing behind a cedar-wood counter, his khaki bush shirt and shorts impeccable, his dark fez very straight on his woolly head. From his startled expression he had never before dealt dealt with a lone whi whitt e woman passenge passenger. r. Lou gave him him her ticket . “How ffar ar iis s this t his from t own?” she asked.

 

He was slow but had good English. “Only two miles from white people,” he said. “Wish for transport, madam?” “Yes, please—to please—to t he hot el. el.”” T his gave him pause. “No hot el, el,”” he stat st at ed. “O “Only nly som some e st ores. ores.”” “But I have t o st ay in C Chekwe hekwe ffor or a while. Is t here someone who can advise me?” “Perhaps the District Commissioner, the Bwana D.C.,” the official said hopefully, “but he is away for some days.”

Lou meditated. “I’ve always had to write to my friends care of the Chekwe post office,” she said. “Perhap “Perhaps s you’ve he heard ard of Mr. Gil Gilmore?” more?” T he African gave a relieved relieved and gleami gleaming ng smil smile. e. “Yes, madam. He has t he Mulera plantat ion. The Bwana Gilmore will arrange everything for madam. I will bring your luggage to the car myself.” “You mean I shoul should d go t o t he plan plantt at io ion? n? IIsn’ sn’tt it a lon long g way?” “Only “O nly eight mil miles. es. I will drive you.” “Don’tt you have tto “Don’ o rema remain in her here e on dut y?” He gave her the white smile. “I am of the Bwana D.C.’s staff, madam. I come here only when a plane is to t o land. T here will be no more fo forr three-f t hree-four our days, perhaps a w week. eek.”” Lou went out with him into the sudden darkness. The plane was gone, and with it every sound of civilization. Night insects whirred eerily, the breeze rippled through the shoulder-high grasses and the sky pressed down, warmly purple and star-sown. The African locked the hut and indicat indicated ed wit with h a deep bow t hat she was t o go ahead. He pi picked cked up her cas cases es and foll followed owed her round to where a shabby station wagon stood under a lone cedar. She got into the seat, felt heat pulsing all over her body and fought a sudden drowsiness. She’d hardly slept since leaving England. T he African drove wit with h ponderous care. Once, Lou came wide awake and looked at him, t old herself that she was here in the savage heart of Africa with a native who could give points in politeness to many a white man she had known. Then she went sleepy again, and watched the passing trees. Cedars again; if the air weren’t so hot and slumbrous this could be a gravel road through t hrough an E Engl nglis ish h est estat at e. They came to a clearing where a couple of ill-lit dingy stores, closing for the night, had become a meeting-place for idle Africans. The driver lifted his nose and accelerated slightly; apparent appare ntly ly h he e was of bet t er stuff t han tthe he llocal ocal labo laborer rers. s. There were a few tidy bungalows in gardens, then more forest, before they turned off the road on to a well-kept private lane between dark young trees. It seemed a long while after t hat t hat Lou saw a rambl rambling ing whi whitt e house of modern desi design gn set among bus bushes hes whose flowers  were plai plainly nly visi visible ble in t he st arli arlight ght T he stat st at ion wagon crunched round t o t he front of t he house and stopped. st opped. T he dri driver ver got out and came round to Lou’s door door.. As she stepped on to the path he said, “I will go to the back and tell Mr. Gilmore’s servant to t ake care of your lluggage. uggage. Wi Willll madam ple please ase go up t he st eps tto o t he front door?”

 

Lou did. She looked along the paved veranda, saw french windows and a darkened room beyond them, t hem, a t angl angle e of clim climbi bing ng flowers at t he end. T here was no bell but possi possibly bly that was normal in such a place. She tapped at the door, received no immediate reply and tried the handle of the door. At the same moment it was opened by a long-limbed servant in white. He stood st ood bade so tthat hat she could enter, swit switched ched on wall lilight ght s which iillumi lluminat nat ing a spacious living-room that was furnished in light wood and blue and white tweed. Most of the stuff looked fairly new, and it was so unlike anything Lou had expected that she walked to the centre of the room and looked about her. No flowers anywhere, but there were two or three good ornament ornaments. s. She turned t urned t o t he servant “Will you please ttell ell Mrs. Gi Gilmor lmore e t hat Mi Miss ss Prent Prent ice iis s here?” Obviously Obviousl y, he hadn’t a not ion what she was ttalk alking ing about. He llooked ooked vacant, atoned with a big smil smile e and walked out Lou to took ok off her smal smalll navy hat and held it, lloosened oosened her linen jacket and fluffed t he ruffle at t he neck of t he white blo blouse. use. Sh She e saw a scarl scarlet et plas plastt ic gun on a chai chairr and it occurred to her, suddenly, that Keith was here under this roof; a swift elation ran t hrough her veins. He’d He’d be asleep, of course, but she was act uall ually y wit within hin feet of him!

She heard the station wagon depart, and afterwards she listened for other noises. The stillness was uncanny, but the coolness of the house was balm. She went to the desk and studied a photograph which stood on it, the likeness of a middle-aged woman who looked kind and intell int elligent igent Mrs. Gi Gilm lmore, ore, probably; she must definit definitely ely be a nice t ype t o have t aken in Keith without question. Lou was sure she could depend on such a woman to give her a bed for the night .She sank into a chair and relaxed, decided that the house was quiet because t he Gi Gilm lmores ores had gone out for t he evening, and all allowed owed her lids to ffall all.. It was good t o be in tthe he house of friends, wonderful to know that Keith was sleeping with childish abandon in a room nearby. Had she been sure she could have found him in a strange house without making sounds to rouse him she would have forced herself to her feet. But in the darkness he might awaken frightened, and it was possible he already felt insecure without his parents. She had reached him, anyway; nothing else mattered very much. Upon which thought Lou first drowsed and tthen hen went t o sl sleep. eep. She awoke without haste, became conscious of light behind her eyelids and opened them, expecting sunshine. But she was still in the strange room lit by wall lights, and for moments she was occupied with recollecting the events which had brought her here to Mulera. Then, beyond the french window she saw a man’s figure, saw him flick a cigarette in a glowing arc out into t he night. The Gi Gilm lmores ores were bac back! k! She pushed up out of the chair, and just then the man came in and pulled the doors closed behind him. He was very tall and wide-shouldered, wore a white dinner jacket which accentuated the teak tan of his face. A rather disturbing face, really... He stared st ared at her her,, and t he corner of a well-defined mout h pulled slight slightly ly.. “Well “Well,, well, what shall  we find next ?” he said in t he sort of voice t hat never ent irel irely y gives its it s ow owner ner aw away ay.. “Who are you?” “Lou Prent ice, ice,”” sh she e said. “Are yo you u Mr. Gil Gilmore?” more?” “That’s right. Ross Gilmore.” He paused, said her name and suddenly lifted a dark brow. “Y “You’re ou’re D Dorot orothy hy West Weston’s on’s cousi cousin. n. Don’t t ell me you got in tthis his eveni evening ng from Engl England!” and!” Thank heaven she didn’t need to do much explaining. Lou gave him a rather drowsy-eyed smile. “Yes. I asked to be taken to a hotel, but was told there isn’t one. I came here because it seemed seeme d there was no nowhere where els else e t o o at shor shortt not ic ice. e.””  

“But you must have arrived hours ago! What have you been doing all this time?” “Sleeping, “Sleepi ng, I’m afrai afraid. d.”” She looked at her wat ch. “It st opped on t he plane. What t im ime e is itit ?” “One-thirty,” he said briefly. “In the morning?” she asked incredulously. “I must have slept like a...” “Like a child,” he supplied, a little acidly. “I wondered why the lights were on—thought Ali must have slipped up.” He came further into the room, shoved his hands into his pockets and looked her over with searching and exasperated hazel-green eyes. “Why the deuce didn’t you cable us you were coming?” “I wasn’t coming—not here to the plantation. If I’d known there was no hotel I’d have gone to Z omba. I didn’ didn’tt like like tthe he sound of t hat soli solicito citor—his r—his t elegram was t oo im impersonal. personal.”” “I dictated it myself to the solicitor’s secretary, less than a week ago.” “Oh.” A hint of antagonism came into her tones. “So that’s how you feel about Keith—that t here’ here’s s nothing ur urgent gent about get gettt ing him set settt led led?” ?” “Look here, Miss Prentice,” he said coolly, “I don’t intend to discuss anything at this hour. From the look of you, you’re as much in need of a guardian as he is. Had anything to eat since you landed?”

“ No, but I’m not hun hungry. gry. Mr. Gilmore. Gilmore....” “Sit down,” he said t ersely ersely.. “I’m “I’m no kit kitchen chen hand bu butt I’l’lll get you somet something. hing.”” Somehow, Lou got the impression that he wasn’t sorry to leave her for a few minutes. She felt disturbed and very very wide  wide awake; aw ake; iitt was vexing t hat t he man who had b been een Dick West on’s boss should turn out to be hard and uncaring, and she did hope poor little Keith had not been unhappy. IfIf he had, she would put t hings ri right ght for him, do all she possi possibly bly could to make him feel  want ed. Ross Gilmore came back, carrying a glass of milk and a plate of biscuits. As he hooked a small table near to her with his foot and placed the milk and biscuits within her reach, his regard was dispassionate. He straightened and stood back, watched her try the milk and himsel him selff put on a ci cigarett garett e. Lou ate one biscuit and then looked up. “I thought you were married, but you aren’t, are you?” “No,” in a faint surprise. “Should I be?” She sighed and nodded towards the photograph. “Is the lady a relative?” “My mother’s sister. She kept house for me in England, and she comes out every year for a month or t wo. wo.”” “It was because of that photograph that I went to sleep,” she said soberly. "I thought she  was Mrs. Gi Gilm lmore ore and that Mr. Gi Gilmor lmore e would sor sortt of mat match ch her. It was comfort comforting. ing.””

 

“Too bad it was only a dream,” he said laconically. “Even though I can’t conjure a wife, I’m afraid you’re stuck here for the night. By the morning I’ll have thought out what’s best for you.” “I shan’ shan’tt be abl able e t o go t o sl sleep eep agai again n if we don’t t alk a llitt itt le ab about out it now now.. How is Kei Keitt h?” “He’s fine. f ine.”” “Not frett ing?” “O nly a llit “Only ittt le. Tel Telll m me,” e,” he said, as if it were merely a poi point nt of int erest erest,, “how did you feel when you knew you’d been named as his off offici icial al guardian?” She looked up at him frankly. “I was thankful. You see, Dorothy and I were always together until she married. She was like a darling older sister. I lost my parents when I was eight and I lived with hers. Then when her mother died Dorothy kept the house going and I helped. I was only sixt sixteen een when she marri married ed and hardly sevent een when she left Engl England, and, but she’d act uall ually y  wait ed t o get marri married ed for my sake, so you can underst and how I fee feell about Kei Keitt h. I missed Dorothy terribly—went off to training college and eventually settled down to kindergarten t eaching. I’ve been lucky—I live live in at t he privat private e school whe where re I t each. each.”” “Amazingly lucky,” he agreed with irony. “I’d no idea the cousin Dorothy mentioned once or t wice was so young. I don’t suppose she ever al alluded luded tto o me iin n her llet et t ers?” “Your name occurred sometimes, but mostly she was full of Dick and her little boy.” Lou’s eyes filled suddenly and she looked away from him. Very steadily she added, “I’ll try to be everytt hing to Ke every Keith—just ith—just as Dor Dorot othy hy was everything tto o me. me.”” “But Dorothy, if I may say so, was a different type and somewhat older, and while you were young she had parents. By the way, what has her father said about your being appointed to care for the boy?” “I don’t know. I have a married brother who’s promised to see Uncle Morris. My uncle is an

awful old man—always moaning about taxes, and shares that go down but never up. He never gives anything away and he never entertains because it’s expensive. I’m afraid he won’t show any interest in Keith till he’s quite sure it won’t cost him anything.” He smiled faintly. “That’s a good picture of an old man who’s gone sour on himself. Perhaps it’s as well that Keith isn’t going to England.” Lou had been about t o fini finish sh t he gla glass ss of mi milk lk,, but now she set t he gla glass ss down wit with h a t hud. “What did you say?” she asked blankl blankly. y. “You heard, little one,” he said carelessly. “Keith’s staying in Nyasaland. It’s what both Dick and Dorothy Dorot hy want ed. Tel Telll you what , I’l l give you a copy of Dorothy’s Wil Will—i l—in n essence it it’s ’s exactly the same as Dick’s—and you can read it tomorrow morning, when you wake up. At the moment it’s more important to find you a bedroom.” Lou felt a litt lit t le as iiff she had bee been n ment mentall ally y pummel pummelled. led. T his m man an was t oo cool and managing; yet t here was some somett hing hing about hi him, m, a look of knowledge and expe experi rience, ence, t hat sent a t rem remor or of apprehension along her nerves. “Do I ... have to sleep here in this house?” His smile was tolerant “Afraid so, but I’ll give you a room that locks. It’s two o’clock now. In

 

four hours’ time the servants will be about.” “Won’t t hey tthin hink k my bei being ng here rrat ather her strange?” “Possibly, Miss Prentice ... possibly. But then they consider me a strange and wonderful man. Don’t worry. If there’s any explaining necessary, you may safely leave it with me. Had enough to e eat?” at?” “Oh, “O h, yes, yes,”” said L Lou ou hast ily, ily, and she st ood up. ‘‘II have t wo cases somewhere. somewhere.”” “T hey’re probabl probably y in t he spare room already. already.”” “Really “Real ly? ? Do you oft often en have a guest ffor or the night?” night ?” His His smi smile le was narrow. “You mean a young woman guest ? Never—with Never—without out a husband. B But ut A Alili is ever hopeful. Come this way, will you?” He took her into a wide corridor, lifted a finger as they passed a room which had the door ajar. Keith’s, thought Lou tenderly. She went into the room Ross Gilmore indicated and he switched on the light. Sure enough, the cases were there, one on the floor and the other set on a st ool rready eady for opening. “T he bat bathroom hroom is rrigh ightt opposi oppositt e,” e,” Ross sai said, d, as he ost ostent entat atiou iousl sly y t urned the key in t he door and snapped the t he loc lock k back agai again n t o show t hat it w worked orked.. “Goodni “Goodnight ght..” Lou answered him, heard him go along tto o a room and close t he-door. For a mi minut nut e or so she st stood ood st stilill, l, pal palpitat pitat ing a llitt itt le and wonder wondering ing whether she ought t o st ay ay.. T hen she saw hersel herselff  wandering out int into o t he Af Afric rican an darkness at t wo in t he morni morning ng in search of a room, and her sense of humor came to her aid, She had to stay, but Keith was here to lend the occasion a veneer of normalit normalit y. Perhaps because she had three t hree night nights s of unrest t o make up for, Lou sl slept ept again very qui quickly ckly,, and she did not awaken till a high-pitched male voice began to nag at someone who replied in lazy, thick-toned syllables. She sat up, had the most amazing sensation of being enveloped in gigantic white cobwebs and realized that someone had lowered the mosquito net over her bed. She went hot with indignation, cool with resignation. If Mr. Gilmore was a sample of the Englishman in the tropics she didn’t want to meet many more. Still, it had been her own fault for forgett ing t o llock ock the door.

She fought her way out of the net, stood on the bed and fastened it Then she saw the folded papers on the bedside table, read that they were the Last Will and Testament of Dorothy Weston. She shivered, and popped the Will into the table drawer. She drew on her dressing-gown, listened at the door, and hurried into the bathroom. Back in in her bedroom she met a curious but heart heart-w -warmi arming ng sight sight.. A smal smalll boy whose h hair air was st strai raight ght and fair and whose nose had a fami famililiar ar ttililtt at t he t ip was lloll olling ing agai against nst t he end of her bed. He wore crumpled pyjamas but there was a smear of marmalade on his chin and a few crumbs in his his eyebrows. Hi His s expression was grave and int erest erested. ed. Lou resisted an impulse to fold him tightly in her arms, but she did drop down to his level and t ouch her llips ips to his t empl emple. e. “Hallo, Keith,” she said. “I’m Lou.”

 

He nodded. “Uncle Ross told me to find you. You’re my cousin.” “Almost your auntie.” “Uncle Ross says says you’re m my y cousin. Don’ Don’tt you want breakfast ?” “Off course. “O course.”” She st ood up, det determi erminedly nedly casual. Have you had yours?” “Yes, we always have it together, then Uncle Ross goes out.” “Has he gone now?” “Just this minute.” His blue eyes weren’t impish, as Lou had hoped. They stared intently. “We’ve got your picture at home.” “I’ve got pictures of you, too,” she said brightly. “What about getting dressed? Can you manage alone?” He regarded her pit yingl yingly. y. “I’ve “I’ve dressed myself since I was lilitt t le, le,”” he said. “Haven’ “Haven’tt you?” ‘Yes, I t hink so. Run along and get start st arted ed and I wi willll t oo. Fi First rst one ready get s first bit bite. e.”” He was almos almostt out of t he door when he stopped st opped and as asked, ked, “Bi “Bitt e what ?” “A bar of chocola chocolatt e for elevenses!” elevenses!” He disappeared. Lou found herself quivering just a little, and her fingers fumbled as she slipped into one of the frocks she had made for the summer vacation in England. The cotton felt heavy and thick, the colors looked muted against the strong light which percolated into the room. The atmosphere was already burdened, and the foliage out in the garden looked lush and dark. As she used lilipst pstick ick she coul could d smel smelll the fflowers lowers she had not noticed iced llast ast night in the darkness. Gardeni Gardenias, as, she t hought , or perhaps some exot ic bl blossom ossom she had never heard of of.. It was good to know the man was out of the house. She opened the bed wide, pegged the  window at it its s fullest, found a handkerchief and went int into o t he corri corridor dor.. Keith sat out side his own room like like a smal smalll or orient iental al who had pet rified rified with wit h wait waiting. ing. “I won!” he exclaimed as he rose. “You have to tell Ali what you want for breakfast.” But Lou was in no hurry. She followed Keith into the veranda, stood stock still for a timeless moment mom ent and tthen hen llet et out a brea breatt h of pure wonder. The garden sloped away, emerald lawn edged with gravel paths, masses of flowers to left and right of it and a plumbago hedge which was covered with blue blossom closing it off from coffee trees which were dark-leaved and splodged with red pods. The garden was luxuriantly beautiful, but its backcloth held all the glory and mystery of purple and lilac mountains and

green forest s, of rich blue sky and mi mist st y distan distances. ces. With the inconsequential nonchalance of childhood, Keith left her. She watched him pause on the lawn and resisted an urge to persuade him out of the sun. Then he wandered along a path and out of sight. Lou sat beside the table, turned to find a white-clad servant standing almost at her elbow. He was not the servant of last night; his features, though black, had an Indian cast cast,, and he looked experienced and int ell elligent igent..

 

“I am Ali, madam,” he said, and she recognized the high-pitched tones. “You will order for breakfast , please?” “May I have it out here?” “Certainly madam.” “Just t oast and coff coffee, ee, please, and some fruit juice iiff you have it it..” When it came she ate slowly, drank all the juice and a cup of coffee. A small black boy appeared below the veranda, blinked a lovely white smile at Lou and began to pull a weed every five minutes; in the intervals he simply squatted in the sun and let the heat soak into him. Very odd, t hought Lou. Lat er er,, she llearned earned tthat hat every pl plant ant at ion had its swarm of ttot ot os  who insist insist ed on earni earning ng a shi shilllling ing or tw two o each week. The atmosphere was so narcotic that it took an effort of will to stand up and walk back to the bedroom. Lou made the bed and tidied, felt her frock sticking to her back but decided the sensat ion was not unpleasant unpleasant.. Act uall ually, y, perspir perspiring ing made one feel cooler cooler.. She packed away the things she had used, remembered Dorothy’s Will and decided that since sin ce it w was as som somet ethin hing g t hat mus mustt be done she shou should ld read read it w without ithout furt further her del delay ay.. Sh She e t ook iitt outsi out side de in intt o t he vera veranda, nda, sat down and st strai raight ghtened ened tthe he folded s sheet heets, s, t hen pl plunged unged iint nto o t he legal jargon. An estate car slidmorning round the drive khaki and Ross emerged from ithad withshort long-limbed carelessness. This he wore shortsGilmore and a bush shirt which sleeves above the muscular forearms. His dark brown hair glinted in the sunshine. He took the three veranda steps in one go, shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at her with just t he sardonic sm smilile e she had expect ed. “Good morning,” he said. “Sleep well?” “A “Amazingly mazingly well, t hank you.” “Our big rains ended late this year. You’ll need to use a mosquito net for at least a month.” She pinked, but smi smiled. led. “I woke up feeling as if I’ I’d d been capt ured by a man-sized spider!” “That’s almost possible, out here.” He nodded at the papers in her lap. “Read it yet?” “I was just beginning to. Apart from the phrasing it seems clear-cut. Everything is to be sold and t he money used for Kei Keitt h. h.”” “Read t he t hir hird d page,” he said. “First “First paragraph. paragraph.”” She did, t wice. T hen, her grey eyes bright and alarmed, she looked up at him. But he did not allow her to speak first. He held up a hand, lowered himself negligently to the veranda wall and lift lift ed his shoulders. “It’s quite simple. Dick and Dorothy liked this country and they wanted Keith to grow up here. Dorothy was mostly good fun but she did have a sombre streak—that was what led her to make a Will and persuade Dick to do the same, though they were only in their thirties. I didn’t know it, but one of her pet worri worries es was tthat hat Ke Keith ith migh mightt som some e day be lleft eft without parents. parents.””

 

“I think t hink I knew it ,” said L Lou. ou. “You did? Then you should understand the rest of it Keith had to be provided with both a man and a woman in his life. You were the obvious choice for the woman ... and odd as it may seem to you, I was the obvious choice for the man. According to both Wills, we have to share t he job of rais raising ing Kei Keitt h.” h.” “But ... how can w we? e? I don’t live here. here....” “A “And nd I don’t live live in Engl England, and,”” h he e nodded comprehendingly comprehendingly.. “But it’s not so diff difficul icultt . I can’t shift t he plant plantat at ion but you haven’t much tto o keep you in Engl England. and. I’ve been tthinki hinking. ng....” She stood up suddenly. “I don’t want to know, Mr. Gilmore! I’m quite sure Dorothy meant me to take care of Keith. You’re a man, and a bachelor at that What can you know about children?” “They’re not so complicated,” he said lazily. “Sit down again and forget the fireworks. Or do you have a reason for them?” She slipped slipped back slowly iint nt o t he wicker chair. “A reason?” He gestured. gest ured. “Is th there ere someone in Engl England and you can’t leave?” “No. Not Not exact ly.” ly.” “That sounds like a spot of feminine evasion. Interested in a man over there?” “Do you have t o be so blun bluntt ? My pri privat vate e aff affair airs s aren’ aren’tt your conc concern!” ern!” “So t here is som someone. eone. Are you engaged?” “No, I’ve onl only y friends. friends.”” By now, Lou was so vexed t hat she had t o grip the arms of t he chair tto o keep herself seat ed. “I don’t underst understand and you at all all.. You’re t ypical ypically ly tthe he conf confirm irmed ed bachelor. bachelor....” “Am I?” he put in iint nteres erestt edly edly.. “I di didn’t dn’t know t hat hat..” “... and you can’t possibly want to be saddled with a child. You haven’t the least idea of how children should be trained and cared for, and I’m perfectly certain that if he were to stay with you for long Keith would become a little savage. You let him eat breakfast with you at some uneart hly hour in hi his s pyjam pyjamas, as, and at t his m moment oment you don’t care w where here he is!” He waved an indolent hand. “He’s around.” Then he leaned forward and gazed at her with a hard kind of mockery in his eyes that made them look very green. “Keith’s missed his parents, so I’ve I’ve llet et him do novel t hings tto o keep him happy. I’m not so sure as most people are tthat hat a boy needs a woman. I believe in toughening youngsters from an early age and making them enjoy t he tthing hings s they’ t hey’llll have tto o lilive ve with. B But ut I’m afrai afraid d t hat for bet t er or wors worse, e, in the matt er of Kei Keitt h  we’re partners for a while. while.”” “For a while?” while?” she said with a swift hope. “If you’d read those papers thoroughly you’d know what I’m talking about. The first one of us t o mar marry ry wil willl hav have e t he ri right ght t o t ake K Keith eith over com compl plet et ely ely—with —with t he ot her’ her’s s consen consentt .” “With t he ot other’ her’s s cons consent ent?” ?” she echoe echoed. d.

 

“That means,” he obligingly explained, “that if you marry first and I don’t like your husband I

can object to his taking my place with Keith. The same goes for you, if I hitch up first. It s quite straightforward.” For almost a minute Lou sat there, half-stunned. If she had thought much about the future  wit h Kei Keitt h it was t o pictu picture re him livi living ng wit with h her in t he priv privat at e rooms o off t he kindergar kindergartt en and learning in her class. Vaguely, she had hoped there would be enough money to buy an insurance policy for his further education, but beyond that everything had been hazy and unimportant. Now, though, things were becoming clarified—too much so. This man with the enigmatic enig matic chi chin n and hard jaw was one of t hose cr creat eatures ures who wouldn’ wouldn’tt know defeat or fail failure ure iiff t hey saw it it.. “I’ “I’m m rel relat at ed t o Keith,” she said. “I have ri right ght s where he’s concerned. concerned.”” “I’ve known the child all his short life,” he reminded her quietly. “Dick was my manager—a darned good one and both he and Dorothy were my friends. They’re irreplaceable. For your information, unless you marry someone who has similar ideas to my own regarding the child’s upbringing, upbringi ng, I inte intend nd t o remai remain n t he boy’s guardian ttililll he’s no llonger onger in need of one. one.”” He let some seconds elapse before adding; ad ding; “I’ve “I’ve made plans. Want t o hear t hem?” “I suppose I’d I’d bet bettt er, er,”” she said st iffly. “Well, t he manager’s house is still empt empty. y. I’ve had to eng engage age a new man but he can’t g get et here till the end of the month, which leaves the house free for about three weeks. I’ve had the place kept clean and aired. The house and furniture are mine, except for a few extras which Dick collected. I gave their clothes to the mission.” He paused. “I suggest you live there with Keith for the present. I’ll give you my own servant, Ali, and you’ll be safe as the Bank of England. In t he cours course e of t hree weeks we ought t o be able to decide on som some e perm permanent anent arr arrangeme angement nt..” “I have exactly exact ly ei eight ght and a half w weeks eeks before school reopens. reopens.”” “So?” He didn’t didn’t seem im impres pressed. sed. “What do you do at t hat school school—j —just ust t each?” “A “And nd look aft er a few weekly boarders. T hey’re al alll under nine. nine.”” “Sounds like like a fright ful lilife fe ffor or a gir girl. l. What made you go in for it? it?”” “I like children.” “Y “You’re ou’re not much more than a chil child d yourself. How old are you?” “Twenty-two!” He studied her as if she were something a little rare in the way of saplings. Lou stood it for half a minut minut e. T hen: “Do you have to st are llik ike e t hat hat?” ?” she asked. “Just curious, curious,”” he said wit with h sarcasm. “Y “You’re ou’re a genus I haven’t met before. before.”” Lou forbore to make the obvious retort. She looked fleetingly at the arrogant line of his nose, and said disdainfully, “I’ll accept your arrangement because I’ve no choice. I’d better pack Keitt h’s t hings. Kei hings.”” “A “Alili wi willll do it. We’l We’lll have a drink and go down t here bef before ore lunch. lunch.”” He looked at his hands. “I’ “I’llll have a wash. E Excuse xcuse me?”

 

Alone, Lou found t hat her teet h were rather t ig ight ht and her k knees nees pr pressed essed toget her her.. T hen she realized that Ross Gilmore was the cause of both, and tried deliberately to slacken; she couldn’t let the man become that important. But he was guardian, with herself, of Dorothy’s son! Not only a joint guardian, it seemed, but self-appointed manager of the whole situation. And he simply took it for granted that she, being about ten years younger than he and a  woman, would acquiesce and be grat grateful! eful! IIff his concei conceitt weren’t so palpabl palpable e it w would ould have been utterly incredible.

Resolutt ely Resolu ely,, she stood up, a and nd at t hat mom moment ent Kei Keitt h came rround ound tthe he corne cornerr of t he house and mounted the steps. He gave her a grubby smile which looked a little pathetic and weary. “I can’t can’t find it it,,” he said. “What have you llost?” ost?” she ask asked ed gently. “Ali found a crane for me yesterday. It had a big crest and was nearly tame. I wanted to keep it.” “Birds do fly away away,, you know. We ’ll ’ll have to get you a pet t hat want s tto o st stay ay.. I put your bar of chocolate chocolat e on your bedsi bedside de t able. Go and have a wash and bri bring ng it ou outt here, t o eat .” He trail t railed ed off off,, came back in a few minut minutes es wit h Ross, who carried a ttray ray of drinks. Ten minutes later the three of them were in the wide front seat of the estate car; Keith sat between Lou and Ross, and he stared absorbedly up at the trees he had always known. As the road wound down through the coffee plantation and out on to a lower plane which was covered cover ed with t he white bol bolls ls of cott on, Lou wat ched tthe he lilitt t le boy for so some me si sign gn of emot emotion ion.. But perhaps he was too young to feel much except his own personal and physical pains; he remained a little solemn but smiled when he saw that the car was heading for a group of silvery-leaved silvery-leaved napini t rees which shaded t he manager’s house. It was a pleasant little bungalow of white adobe and thick grass thatch, the ends rounded and the windows smallish and rather high, so that they were shaded by the extended thatch. There was a porch with a bed of flowers at each side of the stone posts, and the yellowpainted door bore a small black knocker which must have been imported from England; it was an iron replica of a bulldog. Ross unlocked the door and dropped the key into Lou’s hand. He preceded her, drew up a Venet ian bl blind ind and sai said d casuall casually y to t o t he chil child, d, “Y “You’re ou’re home again, old chap. Ali wil willl bri bring ng your t hings down t his aft ernoon. ernoon.”” Keitt h drew a sigh, a blend of pleasure and bewilderment. “Didn’ Kei “Didn’tt Mumm Mummy y come?” The request was so unexpected that tears stung Lou’s eyelids. Ross answered casually, “She’s stil st illl away. You You’l’lll have great fun showing Lou tthe he house. R Run un along and see if your room is stil st illl t here. here.”” When t he chil child d had ambled out into int o t he corri corridor dor,, Ross tturned urned a hard glance upon L Lou. ou. “Don’t get sentimental about bricks and thatch and the bits of furniture they used. And for heaven’s sake don’t dissolve every time the child mentions his parents. He’s over the worst of that.” “I’m “I’m sor sorry ry,, but it ’s al alll ver very y new t o me. me.”” She swallowed. “You don don’t ’t have t o t each me how t o look aft er a chil child. d. In a day or t wo Keit Keith h and I wil willl be very happy t oget her. her.””

 

“Good. The Westons’ servant still lives in a round hut at the back, and Ali will probably bunk  wit h him. T hey’l hey’lll share t he dut ies of t he house and I’l’lll come down each night mysel myselff t o lock up...” “I can can t urn a few keys!” “Like “Li ke t he one you fforgot orgot las lastt nig night ht,,” he mentioned cooll coolly. y. “I was tired and a bit upset I must have known instinctively that you’re not interested in  women.””  women. There was a brief silence. Then with a shrug of indifference he said, “Fine, but there are others in the district who are quite impressionable. If anyone comes calling without invitation you might might remember t hat . Let me know if t here’s anyt hing you need. need.””

“Thank you.” She paused, lifted her chin but did not look at him. “I hope you’ve accepted the fact t hat I regar regard d t his ar arrange rangement ment as only temporar temporary. y. You’r You’re e not my guardian, you know. know .” He gazed straight at her, dug his hands into his pockets as if to point the fact that he was giving givi ng her all his at t ent ion. “Some ttim ime, e,”” he remark remarked ed conversat conversational ionally ly,, “someone will t ake exception t o t hose cl clipp ipped ed lilitt t le com comments ments and t he air of indepen independence. dence. And when it happens happens,, t he fact of t he inde independence pendence bei being ng rather bogus won’t help you a bi bitt .” Large grey eyes flashed at him. “You resent me because I won’t be bullied. I don’t care, so long as you realize it. I’ll co-operate with you over Keith because I have to, but apart from that  we’re not likely likely tto o have a singl single e tthing hing iin n comm common!” on!” “You’re probably right” He was unmoved and tolerant “I’ll have a word with Daniel—he’s the Nyasa house-boy—and then get along. At the moment I’m my own plantation manager, but I’ll find time to come over later.” And with a touch of satire: “Make yourself thoroughly at home, Miss Mis s Prentice. Maybe it’s w what hat you need ffor or t hose jumpy llit ittt le nerves of yours. So llong. ong.”” He was gone, leaving Lou quite taut with an emotion which was only half anger. The other half seemed to be a mixture of frustration, sadness and a kind of need. Need? Lou was sure she didn’t didn’t need anyt hing, part particul icularly arly from M Mrr. Gi Gilm lmore! ore! All t hat man cared ab out was his beastly plantation and guarding his rights. When the t he est at ate e car had sped away she explo explored, red, t ent entat ativ ively ely,, and came upon K Keith eith sit sittt ing on the floor of his room near the open toy cupboard. He turned to look at her, showed her a t iny bus whi which ch had lost a wheel. “A big marble got stuck between the wheels and this one came off,” he complained. “It’s such a nuisance.” “We’ll make a bag for the marbles and rig up a shelf for the smaller toys to keep them safe,” she promised him. He was engrossed, so instead of asking him to show her the house she carried on alone. T he main bedroom was plain, large and high-ceili high-ceilinged. nged. There w were ere t win beds in a dark wood, a matching dressing-table and stool and white-painted wardrobe cupboards. The second bedroom, which she would use, was sparsely furnished in pale green enamelled wood. The curtains and bedspread were of rose-colored linen and there was a small soft rug of many colors beside tthe he bed.

 

Lou found the linen cupboard, got out sheets and pillowcases and went back into her room t o make up the bed. T he matt ress felt dry but she would ttake ake no chanc chances es with Keith’s. It coul could d go outsi out side de in the sun. Gradually, during the next few hours, Lou recovered from the harrowing sensation of being here with Dorothy’s child in Dorothy’s house. Keith was so much at home, so unaware of tragedy, that her heart was soothed and she found herself loving him as a reality far more than she had loved him as a small but far-away relative. For his sake she would put away the sadness sadne ss an and d loss. He was hers n now ow ... we well, ll, hers a and nd Mr. Gil Gilmore’s. more’s. That rankled, of course. Not for anything would she have blamed Dick and Dorothy for this predicament in which she found herself, but it did look as if rather a nightmare were in store. Because, nat urall urally, y, she couldn’ couldn’tt st ay here in Nyasal Nyasaland, and, and just as cert ainl ainly y t he man w wouldn’ ouldn’tt let her ttake ake Ke Keith ith home t o Engl England. and. Why couldn’t he have been someone gentle and sympathetic, someone who would have admitted that looking after a little boy was woman’s work? A normal sort of bachelor would have been relieved to delegate the task; he’d have been satisfied to receive a monthly letter reporting on progress. But not Ross Gilmore. That big teak-brown individual had to assert himself. He was the type to take control in any situation, and somehow Lou knew that he never gave in. Still, she had as many rights where Keith was concerned as he did, and come  what may she would st ick out for t hem. She had no int intent ent ion of being int intim imidat idated ed by Ross

Gilmore!

  CHAPTER TWO

Lou settled intolifethe manager’s with she had expected. Daniel, the servant, made fairly smooth, house and after theless firsttrouble couple than of meals, which showed that he had slipped sadly since he had last cooked for white people, his cooking improved, probably because Ali was more disgusted than Lou. Ali was a tyrant but he got results; perhaps his  worship of Bwana Bwana Gil Gilmore more caused him t o emul emulat at e tthe he man. Lou found a good deal to do. She went through Keith’s clothes and repaired where necessary, made new pyjamas for him from material bought in the main Chekwe store and made a few alterations in his toy cupboard. She let him turn the handle of the sewing machine  while she guided t he mat erial erial,, showed hi him m pencil marks where he must screw hoo hooks ks int o t he cupboard cupboar d and pret ended she coul couldn’ dn’tt have done t he vari various ous jobs wi witt hout him him.. T he lilitt t le gar garden den and its views of cot t on fiel fields ds and t rees and m mount ountai ains ns were a cont continu inual al jjoy oy.. In t he cent centre re of t he lawn an old eve evergr rgreen een fig ttree ree had been lleft eft st standi anding, ng, an im immens mense e t ree so packed with leaves that it gave a dense shade to the log garden chairs which stood beneath it. It was here that Lou sewed by hand, or simply lazed for an hour morning and afternoon. Continuous activity in such a climate was impossible, and what was beauty for if not to be enjoyed? She was out t here one mor mornin ning g just before lun lunch, ch, when a dust y t ouri ouring ng car cam came e down t he lane and pulled up beside the lawn. She saw a man get out—a man of more than average height but not tall, whose build was too thickset to be youthful Actually, he looked as if he

 

might be nearing forty, though there was only the faintest grey tinge in his crisp dark hair. He  wore smart khaki drill drill and was hat less. Inst inct inctivel ively y, as she walked ttowards owards him, Lou knew tthat hat he was good and solid and unassuming, unassuming, t hat what ever hi his s job he di did d it w well ell.. She smiled. ‘‘Good morning. I’m Lou Prentice.” “Yes, I know.” He looked at her starchy green print frock with appreciation. “I’m the District Commissioner, Martin Craddock. I’m lunching with Ross Gilmore today and thought I’d come down and pay my respect respect s before goin going g up t o t he house. We’ We’re re happy tto o have you wit with h us at Chekwe, Chekw e, M Miss iss Prent Prentice. ice.”” “T hank you. M May ay I off offer er you a drink?” “No, thanks, I can’t stay.” His blue eyes remained appraising, pleasantly so. “It was terribly bad luck about your cousin. Is the t he youngst er all right?” “Y “Yes, es, he’s playi playing ng in t he sandpit . Chi Children ldren are adapt adaptable, able, t hank heaven. Woul Would d you like tto o see him?” “Not just now. P Perhaps erhaps you’ll bring him over to see us. S Stt aying here for long, M Miss iss P Prent rentice?” ice?” “Just a few f ew weeks.” She veered from t he t opic, said frankly frankly,, ‘You’r ‘You’re e t he ffirs irstt Di Dist st ri rict ct Commissioner I’ve ever seen. You’ve been away, haven’t you?” “I’m “I’m oft en away. T he D. D.C. C. is a general dogsbody dogsbody,, but he wou wouldn ldn’t ’t change his job for any ot her in the world. We get shoved around, called in to settle every dispute you can think of, and sometimes have to shoot a lion in the course of a day’s work, but it’s a great life, except for  wives. I don’t have one. My sist sist er llives ives wit with h me and she can walk out w when hen she get gets s bored. bored.”” He smiled. “You’re a bit young for the responsibility that’s been thrust on you.”

“Not so young, and I have experience of children. Are there any schools in the Chekwe district, Mr. Craddock?” “Not for white children—they’re too few. It’s one of the problems here.” “How do they get educated?” educated?” He shrugge shrugged. d. “Some m mot others hers take it on up t o t he age of eight, an and d t hen send tthe he chi childr ldren en t o boarding school. There are one or two preparatory schools in other provinces where small children chil dren are boarded, and a few parent s arrange for ttheir heir c chil hildren dren tto o lilive ve wit with h friends nearer the school. In return, they have their friends’ children for the holidays. In a remote country like this t here’ here’s s a lot of give and ttake. ake.”” “Yes, I suppose so. I had no idea Nyasaland was like this,” she waved a hand towards the soft outline of the mountains, and her eyes shone. “It’s so warm and rugged and beautiful. The trees are strange—where else would you see a fig this size?” He absorbed absorbed her appreciation. “T hey’re old and always left growing. You’ll see Africans gathering under them for a little social life, and loads of produce waiting in their shade to be collec col lectt ed. ed.”” He hesitat ed, as if aware of some qual quality ity in her tthat hat he had not met for a long ttim ime. e. T hen he asked, “How do you get alo along ng wit with h Ross Ross?” ?” “Candidly,” she said, with a smiling grimace, “I don’t. He’s kind and considerate, but he has the mistaken idea that a co-guardian is someone to be managed and bent to his will. He

 

comes here, lordly as you please, doles out orders to Ali, gives me the benign-aloof treatment and strolls back to his car. To him, Keith and I are a part of the plantation that needs to be inspected regularly. He makes me so mad that sometimes I feel that one day I’ll throw something somet hing at him him..” Martin Craddock laughed outright. “Keith has a long way to go to eighteen. You two will have t o be friends. friends.”” Lou thought though t of somet hing. “As “A s a D. D.C. C. you’re a sort of magist magistrat rate, e, aren’t you?” “Well, yes, yes,”” he said warily. “What are you t hinki hinking?” ng?” “You may be able to help me. I want t o t ake Kei Keitt h home wit with h me but Mr Mr.. Gi Gilmor lmore e wo won’t n’t hear of it. it . Is t here som some e way out ?” “I don’t decide that sort of case for white people,” he replied rather hastily but with a smile. “In any case, I’d rather work to keep you with us. You say you like Nyasaland. Why not marry here?” “Y “You ou can’t do it just like tthat hat ” she said flat flatly. ly. “Besides, I’m not sure I want t o get marri married ed yet .” “Well, give yoursel yourselff t im ime e t o make sure, sure,”” he suggest ed ““My My A. A.D. D.C. C. is just pini pining ng ffor or a long leave so t hat he can t ravel and find a wife. And I k know now a couple of plant planters. ers.... “ “No plant p lant ers, ers,”” s she he said ffirml irmly. y. “If Mr. Gil Gilmore more is a sample, I’ll keep clear o off t hem! hem!”” “You’ve really got it in for Ross, haven’t you,” he said with a delighted grin. “I must tell him  what he’s up against.” “He knows,” she said resignedly, “and he’s not impressed. You see, he’s self-sufficient— people don’t mean much to him. I suppose he’s giving all his time and energy to making a success of Mulera. He mi might ght be quit quite e different if he’d marr married. ied.”” He looked t hought ful, nodded. “Maybe he w wililll marr marry y soon. soon.”” “Really? Is she someone who lives here?”

“Yes—my sister.” He moved regretfully and opened the car door. “Ross will be wondering  where I’ve I’ve got t o. Wil Willl you come over to t he house one aft afternoon? ernoon? I’l I’lll send for you. you.”” “I’d love it. it .” “Can’t be t oo soon. Let’s say t omorrow at four. I’m already llooking ooking forward t o it it..” “So am I, Mr. Craddock. Goodbye.” That afternoon Lou determinedly made out a set of simple lessons for Keith. When he had had his rest she told him about them, and found him completely unreceptive. Surprised, Surpr ised, she asked him, “Don’t you want t o learn tto o read?” “No,”” he said wit hout emphasis. “I don’t like “No, like books. books.”” “Picture books?”

 

“I’ve torn t orn all mine. mine.”” “I can get you some new ones.” “No,”” he answ “No, answered ered uncompromi uncompromisingl singly. y. “I don’t want lessons. lessons.”” This was something unexpected. She wondered if perhaps his mother had mentioned school, and he was subconsciously refusing Lou because only his mother would know what  was right for him. She smiled and said softly, “There’s no hurry. Some time you’ll just ache to be able to read and write. writ e. Can you count your marbl marbles?” es?” “I can count twenty, but I’ve got more.” “Now that you have a little bag for them we might count them all and write it down in a not ebook, so t hat you’l you’lll know if you lose some. some.”” “I don’t don’t want t o writ write, e,”” he said. “I’m “I’m goi going ng t o t he kitchen ffor or llemonade. emonade.”” Lou left it there; even though a shutter seemed to have come down between herself and t he chil child d she w was as not perturbed. T here were many ways of get t ing him iint nt eres erestt ed in lea learni rning ng  wit hout his bei being ng in t he least aw aware are of it. But t he following m morning orning the subject came up agai again, n,  wit h R Ross oss present. Ross came at ele Ross eleven. ven. He sl slamm ammed ed t he door of t he est ate at e car and sauntered int into o t he lilivi vingngroom,, where L room Lou ou was at la last st sorting tthrough hrough the papers she had ttaken aken from the w wri ritt ing ing-t -t able drawer. “Good morning, Louise,” he said suavely. “How goes it?” “Fairly well, “Fairly well,”” she answ answered, ered, wit h t he coolness she invol involunt unt aril arily y reserved for f or hi him. m. “Like some tea?” “Matey “Mat ey or pol polite?” ite?” “Politt e, “Poli e,”” she said briefly. “I’l “I’lll go wi witt hout t hen. hen.”” But he was not put out out.. He hi hitt ched hi his s t rous rousers ers and sl slippe ipped d down on t o a chair close to hers, at t he desk. “What are you finding?” “Very lit littt le. Recei Receipt pt s, one or tw two o old let lettt ers from Engl England. and. And t here ’s a postcard ffrom rom the Far East signed by Eli Elinor nor West on. I remember her vag vaguely. uely.””

“Dick ment ment ioned her once. A sist sister er wit with h a murky past , wasn’t she?” “Not murky—troubled. If t here were an address II’d ’d write t o her. her.”” “Nothing else?” She shook her head. “Shall “Shall I dest roy all tthis?” his?” “May as well.” He sat back and looked at the young and graceful lines of her face. “You’re sprouting a few freckles; haven’t you a hat with a wide brim?”

 

“No. I don’t mind freck freckles. les.”” “Even though t hough tthey hey mak make e you look you younger nger than ever ever?” ?” “Is “Is that t hat a bad thing?” “It’s slightly irrit irrit at ing, ing,”” he said calml calmly. y. “Has your hair always been st reaky?” “Prettt y well. Is that “Pret t hat somet something hing el else se you disl dislike?” ike?” “No, I rat rather her lilike ke it it,, t hough you might wear it in a mor more e sophist sophisticate icated d st yle. yle.”” “Don’t ever come t o me f or sophist sophistication, ication, Mr Mr.. G Gililmore. more.”” “A “Allll right, I won’t ” Equably Equably,, he fflilicked cked a fly from t he desk. “I hear tthe he D.C. D.C. paid you a court courtesy esy visit yesterday He talked about you all through lunch.” “How nice. He was refreshingl refreshingly y pleasant .” “He says you’re a girl of spirit and determination, the sort who could be a great success in Nyasaland.” “I’m “I’m s sure ure you put him right right on t hat hat!” !” “I tried,” he said lazily, “but it’s so unusual for Martin to go even mildly enthusiastic over a  woman that t hat I decided to find out what it’s it ’s all about . Was he her here e long?” “We spoke for t en mi minut nutes es out on t he pat h. He ttold old m me eIs shoul hould d set settt le her here. e.”” He nodded. "So I heard. Amused him no end that I’d set you against planters.” He paused, looking looki ng at her speculat speculativel ively. y. “Would you marry out here?” “How can I t ell ell? ? You fall in llove ove wit with h a man, not wit with h a count ry ry.. If you wo won n ’t h have ave t ea, would you like like some ot her kind of drink?” He smiled mockingly. “No, thanks. You’re going pink, little one. Is love your shy subject?” “Not part particul icularly arly.. You You’re ’re capabl capable e of making alm almost ost any t opic rather nervenerve-wearing. wearing.”” She ttore ore some across and into a painted herwhere chair so thatpapers a wider space laydropped betweenthem them. “Some timewaste soon basket, we shallcasually have tomoved arrange Keitt h and I are going when we leave tthis Kei his house. house.”” “Two weeks yet. In any case, I can always give the new chap a room at my place for a while. How do you find Ali?” “Fright “Fri ght eningl eningly y eff effici icient ent . Did Did you make hi him m tthat hat way?” “He had it in him him.. He’ He’s s been wit with h me ffor or seven years—ever since I fi first rst came t o Mulera. Mulera.”” “Did “Di d you always iint ntend end t o be a plant planter?” er?”

“I had the urge, but started off in forestry. Planting has always seemed to me more satisfactory than any other work and a few years at forestry were the best training.” His grin at her was narrow-eyed. “That’s a long time ago. I did my first year among the trees when I

 

 was t he age you ar are e now. I shall be tthirtyhirty-tt hree next mont h.” h.” “You’ve had your own way for a long time, haven’t you?” she said lightly. “Marriage alters most men a little, but I think it’s too late for it to make a difference in you. Still, the woman you marry mar ry may no nott want you any di different fferent .” T he hazel-green eyes gle gleamed amed a lilitt t le. “You can’t im imagi agine ne t hat hat—a —a woman want ing m me e as I am now?” She quelled quelled a smile. “Y “You’re ou’re well aware of your own at t ract ractions, ions, Mr Mr.. Gi Gilm lmore! ore! Let ’s leave it at that.” “You’re scared,” he jeered softly, but said no more because Keith came into the room. Ross reached out and ruff ruffled led tthe he boy’s fair hair. “Well, old chap, how are you t his mor morning?” ning?” Keit h leaned conf Keit confidi idingly ngly against his knee. “I’ve “I’ve broken t he sail of my boat , Uncl Uncle e Ross. IItt ’s in t he veranda. veranda.”” “I’ll “I’ll t ake it wit with h me and mend it. B By y t he way, you left a couple of your books on my bookshelf. T hey’ hey’re re out in t he car—g car—go o and fet ch tthem. hem.”” “I don’t don’t want t hem, hem,”” said Kei Keitt h, not movi moving. ng. “I like like t he sand-pit best .” Lou caught Ross’ glance and tried to hold it. But he looked down at the child, said very evenly, “Go and get t he books, Kei Keitt h—at once. once.”” Keith blinked and straightened. With a slight tremor in his tones he said, “I don’t want them, Uncle Uncl e Ross. I don’t want any books at all all..” Lou said said quickl quickly, y, “But go and get t hem from t he car, darli darling. ng. They are yours, and Uncle Ross took the trouble to bring them to you. Even if you don’t want to read them you must bring them in.” Keitt h wen Kei wentt . Ross leaned back and asked sardonicall sardonically, y, “Had some t rouble?” “You’d like me to say yes, but I haven’t. I know how Keith feels about his books. He’ll get over it in time without forcing.” ‘I suppose in your text-books there’s an explanation for a child’s sudden dislike for things he used to t reasu reasure?” re?” “T here’s no need for sarcasm, sarcasm,”” she answered. “Keit “Keith’s h’s ttrouble rouble iisn’t sn’t obscure. Hi His s mot her used t o read his books t o him and subconsciousl subconsciously y he avoids being remi reminded nded of her her.. He’ll come round.” “His father made t he sand-pit but appare apparent nt ly he stil stilll enj enjoys oys it. it.”” “It “It ’s not unnat ural for a boy t o have been mor more e at t ached tto o his mo mott her her.. And anyway anyway,, it ’s possible that Dick only directed operations at the sand-pit and had a couple of totos to do t he work. I mys myself elf had t he galv galvani anized zed t ub sunk out t here tthe he firs firstt day we came. came.”” Ross got up and pushed h his is hands into h his is pockets. Wi Witt h an annoying smil smile e he a asked, sked, “A “Are re t hese the t act actic ics s you’ you’re re goi going ng t o use wit with h him a allll t he t im ime? e? If If t hey are, you’ you’llll get in tthe he whale of a mess. He’ He’s s t urned five—ready ffor or expansion in several di direct rections. ions. You’re t rained in

 

ki kinderg ndergarten arten st uff—why not knock so some me of it int o him him?” ?” “I’m going to teach him,” she said with exasperation, “but I have to do it my way! At the moment he doesn’t want to learn, and I think it’s all bound up with books and his mother. He himselff doesn’t underst himsel understand, and, of course, but we can underst and for him. him.”” Ross lift lift ed his shoulder shoulders. s. “Even a child has to come tto o grips with h his is llitt itt le world. You can’t do it for f or him and put t ing iitt off will only m make ake t hings worse. worse.”” “I’m “I’m not put t ing it of off! f!”” she exclai exclaimed. med. “I’m “I’m merel merely y handling tthings hings in m my y own fashion. fashion.”” “Looks t o me lilike ke givi giving ng in, in,”” h he e said t olerantly. “Well, it isn’t. Instead of reading him a story at night from his own books, I make one up— always about the same little boy who is really himself. I’m finding out all the things he’s never done and one by one I shall shall get him busy on them, so t hat he’l he’lll have plent plenty y t o occupy his mi mind nd  wit hout being remi reminded nded of what he used t o do. II’ve ’ve ordered new books ffrom rom Bl Blant ant yre, and I’ I’m m experimenting to find out what he’s good at...” A door slammed. There was a brief silence and Keith ambled into the room. He sighed. “That’s that,” he said. “Daniel’s burnt those books for me.” Lou looked sharply at Ross. She saw his mouth move as if he were about to utter some forcefull rebuke, but no wo forcefu words rds came; instea instead, d, a derisi derisive ve smil smile e was t urned her way. “Y “You’re ou’re move, Loui Louise, se,”” he said sof softt ly. “Show us how it’s done.” She drew in her lip, got down beside Keith. “Darling, we don’t burn books—not even books  we disl dislike. ike. We give t hem aw away ay.. As you grow t oo o old ld for cert certain ain books we ’l’lll send t hem t o t he mission for little children who haven’t any at all. Remember that, won’t you? We mustn’t destroy anything, anything, because  because t here’s al always ways someone w who ho would like iitt .” “Those old picture books?” asked Keith witheringly. “Even those. It’s babyish to destroy something because you don’t like it I love books, so you can give me those t hose you’re tired of.” “Grown-ups don’t read picture books.” “I like any kind. I’ve actually ordered some new picture books.” “For you?” “I’ll let you look at them if you like. But don’t forget—toys and books that belong to you are very special because t hey’re hey’re your’s  your’s,, and you must treat them well.” Keith nodded, looked up at Ross and then at Lou. “All right,” he said, and moved across the room. He hesi hesitt at ed, added, “But I’m glad D Daniel aniel burnt t hose t wo books, anyway, anyway,”” and w went ent out . Ross smiled smiled a maddening smi smile, le, said suavely suavely,, “I doubt whet her it worked, llitt itt le one, but it was a good try. Next time he behaves that way put the sand-pit out of bounds for a day or confiscate his gun. You can’t talk  a  a child int int o underst anding. anding.”” “Y “You ou can, can,”” she said firm firmly. ly. “Laugh your head of offf if you lilike ke but my meth methods ods will get results.”

 

“I hope so, honey; you give yourself such a grim time over it.” He took a long lazy stride towards the door. “I’ll have to leave you now. We’re short-handed at the drying ground and even the promise of a bonus hasn’t jolted them.” ‘Try some child psychology, psychology,”” she suggest ed.

“Y “You ou could be ri right ght ,” he said, grinni grinning. ng. “So long, Loui Louise. se. Keep tthe he books dust ed!” Lou waited till every sound of him had died before, still quivering slightly, she went outside. For some some reason she had t o t hink of somet hing else, very quickl quickly. y. She found Keith at the pit. He sat alone with his feet in water and sand, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. She sl slipped ipped down beside him, felt t remendous heat set t le over her even even tthough hough that part of t he gar garden den was thickl thickly y shad shaded. ed. She said said idl idly, y, “Can you see t hose t hin green fli flies es on tthe he t ree-t runk? II’ve ’ve count counted ed seven. seven.”” “Nine,”” he said dreami “Nine, dreamily. ly. “I count counted ed nine. And ffive ive of t hem make a big lett er A. A.”” “Y “Yes, es, I can see it it.. If you lean tto o t he left it looks llike ike a wobbly H. H.”” Aft er a moment moment’s ’s si silence lence he said, “Will you help me tto o make a t rail railer er for my lorry?” lorry?” “Of course,” she answered. “We’ll make the wheels from cotton-reels and paint it red!” “Red,” he murmured ecstatically. “I do like playing with you.” Lou was comforted. Keith wasn’t a complicated little boy. He was just a child who had been suddenly left a without parents and now found a little help him him with all ll t he love and understand understanding ing she had. difficulty in adjusting himself. She would Dressing to take tea with the District Commissioner was rather exciting. Lou put on a blue glazed cott on which was fig figured ured in in blac black k and white; the t op was plai plain n and t ig ight ht -fit t ing ing,, t he ski skirt rt billowed in gathered tiers, and somehow she looked young and merry and vulnerable at the same time. Being a child of the wilds, Keith had no party clothes, but he looked small and delightfully boyish in clean fawn shorts and a short-sleeved white shirt. It was he who introduced int roduced t o Lou tthe he A.D A.D..C. who called for t hem. “T his iis s Peter,” he sai said. d. “He cat ches rai rainbow nbow t rout rout..” T he young man has hastt ened t o compl complet ete e t he introduction. “Peter Whyt Whyte, e,”” he said. “How do you do, Miss Prentice?” At first he seemed to find difficulty in speaking. He gazed at Lou, hurriedly pushed Keith into the back of the car before seating her at his side, and fumbled the gears excruciatingly before t hey wor worked. ked. As they moved away Lou said cheerfully “This is the first ride we’ve had since coming to the bungalow. You know, I’m still amazed at the mountains all round us. I’m quite sure this is even more mor e beaut beautiful iful than Switz erl erland!” and!” “We don’t get snow,” he repl replied ied carefull carefully. y. “No, of course not no t . B But ut t he colors here are richer richer,, I should t hin hink, k, and you have so many

 

cedars.” “We have about a t housand di different fferent kinds kinds of t rees rees..” “Those plantations on the hillsides are cedars, though, aren’t they?” “Y “Yes, es, t hey grow so well. well.”” She nodded. “I’ “I’d d love to t o know all about t he t rees, and II’m ’m hoping tto o see t he Lake som some e t im ime. e.”” “If you live live in N Nyasaland, yasaland,”” he said, “you can’t avoid tthe he Lake. It ’s tw two-t o-t hirds of tthe he count ry. ry.”” “Like a sea.” She indicated an expanse of pale shimmering green in the distance. “What is

that? “Rice. It’s only just been planted—that’s why you can see the water it stands in. Rice thrives in the t he swamps. swamps.”” “Rice, cot t on, c coff offee, ee, t ea, ea,”” she murmured happil happily. y. “I don’t wonder you men love it here. here.”” “Some of us do,” do,” he said caut iousl iously y, “but it can b be e darned monot monotonous. onous. Not t hat I’m grumbling. T he D. D.C. C. does h his is best for u us. s.”” “T ell me abo about ut your rrain ainbow bow t rout. Is itit t rue they t ast aste e of mud eve even n aft er they’r they’re e cooked? cooked?”” Perhaps Lou had deliberately chosen to word her question that way; for Peter Whyte she couldn’t have done better. He led off indignantly against whoever had told her that, insisted that there were no finer cooked fish in the world and promised to take her to his favorite fishing spot. He had by no means finished with the subject when they drove along a neat road between about a dozen white houses and pulled up in front of the most pretentious. It was a  whit e st ucco dwelli dwelling ng wit with h t hick brown t hat ch and a veranda along t he front , and its smal smalll garden was hedged in wit h oleander and hibiscus hibiscus.. A ttremendous remendous rust rust-red -red bouga bougainvi invililia a covered an archway beside the house and the paths were bordered neatly with zinnias in shades of pink and mauve. They were met in the porch by the D.C. himself. He greeted Lou, gravely shook Keith’s hand and t old hi him m he coul could d go t hroug hrough h and find a ser servant vant t o t ake hi him m to t he aquari aquarium um He saw Lou Lou seat seated ed well ba back ck in the vera veranda, nda, offered ciga cigarett rett es and sat down. Peter Pet er Whyt e hovered hope hopefully. fully. “Need me, si sir?” r?” “I don’t think so, Peter. You might get all the files ready for the morning and then call it a day. I’ll leave at five.” As the younger man reluctantly departed, Martin Craddock grimaced and turned to Lou. “I have a day out tomorrow. There’s a piece of land which has been in dispute for t hree year years. s. Ev Every ery few mont months hs I h have ave t o go t hrough the farce of hearing the evi evidence dence and stating a verdict, simply because two brothers won’t agree as to where the division should come.” Lou was interested. “Don’t you stipulate where the land divides?” “Regularly. But one or other of them shifts the posts and we’re back where we were. The African loves litigation, and I’m sure they only keep the dispute going for their own entertainment. Luckily, I’m a patient man.” He put an ashtray on the wide arm of her chair.

 

“Mind wait wait ing a bi bitt for ttea? ea? My si sist ster er was out t o lunc lunch, h, but she’ she’llll be back at any mom moment ent”” “Wait “Wa iting ing here is a p pleasure. leasure. I wish I had a bicycle. bicycle.”” “A bicycle?” he echoed in faint alarm. “Even where there are tarred roads women don’t ride bicycles bicycl es in t his count country. ry. Can you drive?” “Yes, but even if it were possible to hire a car it would be too expensive. Mr. Gilmore has a spare one as well as the estate car and a lorry, but I don’t think he’s likely to offer it for my use. He said said t hat if I want t o go anywhere he’ he’llll send a car wi witt h a dri driver ver,, but t here’s no fun in t hat hat.. I  want t o explor explore, e, not t o be gui guided. ded.”” His His glance lingered on her eager expressi expression. on. ‘You’r ‘You’re e plent y of t im ime; e; we’ll we’ll arrange somet something. hing. Does t he heat upset you at all all?” ?” “It’s pretty much, isn’t it?” she said cheerfully, “but then you have to suffer a little discomfort for most things that are worth while. It doesn’t really bother me. I suppose you’re completely hardened?” “I get a mild dose of malaria now and then—but I’ve had nothing else in eighteen years of

Africa. You get into a condition of mind that doesn’t change very much; it’s a state of acceptance of whatever comes along.” “But t hat hat’s ’s b bad! ad! I like like tto o be able to erupt when something happens t hat I don’ don’tt care for for..” “And fly f ly iint nto o seventh heaven when you’ you’re re happy?” happy?” Her grey glance was frank and exuberant. “Certainly! In their own ways both ups and downs are t he spice of life. life.”” “I suppose they t hey are, t o t he very young. Act uall ually y, I was rat her a sober young man, and I don’t believe I ever knew a girl like you.” “You probably knew dozens but being young and ambitious yourself you weren’t a bit interested. interest ed.”” She leane leaned d forward. “What is that bib biblilical cal-looki -looking ng t ree down t o t he ri right ght?” ?” “Pomegranate. The servants eat the fruit. At the back we’ve some tamarinds and bananas and a few coconut palms. Li Like ke t o see tthem?” hem?” “Please! Unless you’re you’re t ired?” As he st ood up he gave her a mock frow frown. n. “I m may ay be dull and unexci unexcitt ing but I’m not t hat old. old.”” “Anyone can be tired,” she said. “And to me you’re anything but dull! You preside at African courts, direct the people to better ways of living, shoot lions, solve problems and look after  whit e people as well well.. When I get back tto oE England ngland I shall be awfully pr proud oud of having known you!” “I must must admi admitt you’ you’re re good for m my y ego, ego,”” he sai said, d, as t hey went down t he st eps, “but don’ don’tt t alk about goi going ng home home..” A pause as tthey hey passed tthroug hrough h sunshi sunshine ne into t he shade of t he orchar orchard. d. “What did you think of P Pet eter er W Whyt hyte?” e?” “He seems nice but a lilitt t le cal callow. low.”” “He’s twenty-eight.”

 

“A “As s much as tthat hat ? Wil Willl he be a Di Dist st rict rict Comm Commissi issioner oner someday?” “Yes, if he st stic icks ks it out in the Se Servi rvice. ce. Bu Butt he needs lo lott s mor more e experi experience ence and tthat hat att at t itude of mind I was t ell elling ing you about about.. He’ He’s s keen tto o get marr married, ied, but I’ve never even t hought about it.” “T hen you shoul should, d, before iitt ’s too lat late!” e!” “I’m afraid it's already too late. In ten years or so I shall retire to a few acres in Kenya or Rhodesia and become a club bore.” “Y “You ou won’t . You’ll be a Governor som somewhere ewhere and peo people ple wil willl have tto o curt curtsey sey t o you. you.”” He laughed, and a light light ness came int into o his expression. “Come on, we’ll pi pick ck some ffruit ruit for you t o ttake ake bac back k to t o tthe he bungal bungalow. ow.”” He unhooked a grass basket from where it hung on a branch, pulled a few oranges, cut about a dozen bananas and ttwo wo larg large e yell yellowing owing papaws. T o t he basketbasket-load load he added a heap of loquat loquats. s. There was a sudden rustle high up in a palm and instinctively he gripped her arm and pulled her clear of a huge falling coconut. She laughed a little helplessly, put a hand to his jacket to st steady eady hersel herself. f. “I was hoping for a coconut and here it is!” she said. The next moment both were aware of figures approaching on the path between the tamarinds. Lou’s hand dropped, and a second later lat er Martin Craddock rel released eased her arm. Unhurr Unhurriedl iedly y, he bent t o ret retrieve rieve the coconut and place it beside the t he basket T hen he t urned towards Ross G Gililmor more e and t he woman at his s sid ide. e.

“Hallo, t here,” he said. “Miss Prent ice, meet my sist sister, er, Paula. You ’ve heard ab about out Louise Prentice, Paul Paula. a. We were picking some fruit for her t o t ake home. home.”” Pa u l a Cr Pau Craddock addock showed perfect white t eet eeth h bet ween exact red lilips. ps. From her br brief ief acquaintance with Martin, Lou was quite unprepared for the woman. She ought to have known, of course, that if Ross Gilmore was deeply interested in Paula Craddock she would have good looks and poise, but somehow she had imagined Martin’s sister would be very like Martin: dependable, friendly and exceedingly pleasant . Paula was none of these things, though she did have an air of patronizing camaraderie. She had the stamp of wealth on her and she was amazingly beautiful. Tall and slender, with ashblonde blon de hair t hat posi positt ively ively s sparkl parkled ed wit with h whit whiteness eness and eyes that were a deeper bl blue ue t han her brother’s, a vivid blue. She wore a white linen skirt and a pink-tan blouse which made her throat look golden. Standing beside Ross, who was as striking in his way as she in hers, she looked as if she had placed p laced hersel herselff w where here she belonged. Ross, for some reason, looked watchful, though he spoke as casually as ever. “Short of fruit down at the bungalow, Louise? What’s Ali been doing with it?” “I thought I’d like some of Mr. Craddock’s. Do you mind?” “Not at all, child.” Paula t ook his arm. “I’m Paula “I’m thirst thirsty—let y—let’s ’s go in for t ea. Y You ou know, darli darling, ng, your houseboy may be good but he has t he common fail failing. ing. T oo much sal saltt in ever everyt yt hing. hing.””

 

“Y “You ou said tthe he lunch was splendid. splendid.”” “So it was—because we had it alone and could talk. But there was something we forgot. Those gramophone records you ordered for me...” They moved so far ahead that their conversation was only a murmur. Lou walked with Martin Craddock but found herself sharply aware of those two. She didn’t know what it was, but some new element seemed to have entered her own orbit within the last few minutes. She found herself thinking, “So they’re that close, absorbed in each other.” And she realized that her own innocence made her blind to much of Ross Gilmore’s personality. Unaccountably she felt fla f latt and uneas uneasy. y. They had tea in the D.C.’s comfortable lounge. Paula, bright and beautiful, poured the tea; Ross handed the cups and Martin took charge of the dishes of minute cakes and sandwiches. Keith strolled in and drank orange juice while he talked about the tropical fish, and then he si sidled dled out agai again. n. It was so long si since nce he had last seen tthe he aquari aquarium um tthat hat he found t he fish far more engrossing engrossing t han human beings. Cigarettes were lit and Martin put on his pipe. He looked happy and relaxed as he talked about the trifles which make up life in the tropics. He thought it was time someone gave a party. “And why shouldn’t it be us,” he said to Paula. “When you first arrived you were party-mad, but it must be all of six weeks since we llast ast had more th than an a couple of people here. here.”” She shrugged, smiled at him sweetly. “They’re the same old faces, Martin, my sweet, and one does get t ir ired ed of t hem. hem.”” “I’m “I’m t he same old fface, ace, t oo. oo.”” “But you’re also like old shoes, darling—indispensable in a hot climate.” He smil smiled. ed. “What ’s R Ross—ne oss—new w shoes t hat have tto o be t ri ried ed out fair fairly ly oft often?” en?”

She wrinkled her nose at him him,, gave Ross a long, iint nt im imat at e glance. “Ross is charged wit with h electric elect ricit ity; y; he gives a girl a boost .” She t urned politely t o Lou. “I suppose you’ you’llll hardl hardly y have t im ime e t o get t o know us befo before re you lleave. eave. I hear you’r you’re e a school-t eacher. eacher.”” “Of a kind.” Lou found herself tightening up and it annoyed her into being cool and deliberate. “Actually, teaching the five-to seven-year-olds in a particular type of prep school is rather different from ordinary school-teaching.” “But you can’t possibly like like it  it..” “I do—that’s why I chose it in preference to anything else. On the whole I find children exhilarating.” “Teaching other people ’s chi children ldren al always ways seems tto o me tto o be a dead end. With Keit Keith h one  would feel different ly, ly, of course.” T he blue glance, in spit spite e of its vivi vividness, dness, looked st strangely rangely expressionless expressionl ess as she added, “It must have been a shock t o hear you were Keith’s guardian. guardian.”” “Co-guardian,” put in Ross gently. She flickered him another soft smile. “I know, but a woman does more than a man towards a

 

child’s upbringing. up bringing.”” “Not in tthis his case, case,”” he said lazil lazily. y. “Louise ttakes akes care of Keit Keith h but I make tthe he decisions. decisions.”” Lou’ ou’s s eyes bri bright ghtened ened wit with h vexat vexation ion,, but ins instt ead of voi voici cing ng a ret ort she t urned tto o t he D. D.C. C. “I t hink we shall have t o appoint you as arbitrat or, Mr. Craddock. Would you ttake ake it on?” “Louise means,” explained Ross kindly, “that she wants you on her side. Don’t be fooled by t he wist ful pleading, Martin. IItt hides a schemi scheming ng wit .” “I’m “I’m st stric rictt ly fri friendly endly wit with h bot h of you,” Mart Martin in sai said. d. “T here’s no probl problem em yet yet..” Paula tapped ash into a saucer. Her smooth features were pleasantly smiling. “The whole thing is solved when one of you marries, I believe. You two guardians only have to agree till then. And if Miss Prentice is staying only a few weeks there seems to be very little to argue about anyway. anyway.”” “Exceptt t hat I’m hopi “Excep hoping ng t o t ake Kei Keitt h wit with h me, me,”” said L Lou. ou. “T enacious wench, wench,”” remarked R Ross oss tto o no one in particular. Paula readied for another cigarette, turned to the lighter Ross held. “I expect you know the answer to it all, darling. You always do.” “There’s no hurry,” he said easily. “What about this party Martin mentioned? Care to put on one for me at my house?” Paula scintillated. "Why, Ross—what a lovely ideal I can think of nothing I’d like more.” "Good. Make iitt next weekend and invit invite e t he whole bunch. bunch.”” At five-thirty Lou said it was time Keith went home. He came into the room looking grubby and contented, and all five wandered out into the veranda. Martin had something he wanted t o show Ross Ross,, and as tthe he t wo men mov moved ed al along ong t he front of t he house ttowards owards a she shed d which  was hidden by climbers, climbers, Keith decided t o follow t hem. Lou was left wit with h t he blonde Paul Paula a Craddock. There was a silence, in which some insects buzzed farewell to the day while others began sharpening their t heir wings iin n preparat preparation ion for darkness. Then Paula said, “This guardianship of Keith Weston is a queer business—most unfair to

both of you, really. It ignores the fact that a marriage partner would be most unlikely to want a ready-made child in the t he ffamil amily. y. Kei Keitt h should have been adopt ed by a childl childless ess couple. couple.”” “I don’t agree. I was Dorothy’s nearest relative and we were closer than sisters. Mr. Gilmore  was chosen because he’s he’s a m man an and on the spot .” “I’ve “I’ve a ffeeli eeling, ng,”” said Paul Paula a Craddock, cooll coolly y and ag agreeably reeably,, “t hat even if you we were re t o marry at once Ross wouldn’t reli relinquish nquish his responsi responsibil bilit ity. y. He was ffond ond of t he West ons. ons.”” “I’m glad to hear it. I loved them.” Dusk fell softly, but Lou stood there rigidly, keenly aware of this woman who had patently been pampered all her life. life. S She he had arrogance in every tturn urn of her narrow, elegant head, an air

 

of cont empt in every st udied lline ine of her ttall all,, will willowy owy body. The men appeared, and Keith was perched high on Ross Gilmore’s shoulder. Paula shrugged, and t hough her voice was low, for Lou’ Lou’s s ear only, sounded bot h gay and decisive. “Well, if Ross want s t o keep t he chil child d I must back him up. But I’m not so fond of children tthat hat I’d care to be burdened w with ith someone else’ else’s s brat . Aft er Ross and I ar are e marri married, ed, Kei Keitt h will go t o boarding school!” Lou shivered, whether at the threat of losing Keith or at some more subtle inference from the other’s manner and words she could not have said. Ross called, “Be seeing you later, Paula. Thanks for the tea.” And to Lou, “Come along, I’m t aki aking ng you t wo home. Say y your our prett y t hanks tto o Martin. Martin.”” Lou’s anger hurt her throat. She said goodbye and thank you to Martin and his sister, got into t he front seat of t he estat e car a and nd llooked ooked ov over er at Kei Keitt h, who had stret ched hi himse mself lf al along ong the seat behind them. The car moved off, and they drove into a sudden darkness which was gaily gail y decked out wit with h firefli fireflies. es. But Lou’s feeli feelings ngs were t oo mi mixed xed tto o admit gaiet y.

  CHAPTER THREE

For some minutes nothing at all was said between them. Keith was rolling on his seat and making small sounds which showed he was completely oblivious of everything but the sleepy game he was playing. A moth battered on the windscreen and fell, and something zoomed in one window and out of the other. Ross was driving fairly fast, but presently he slowed a little. “Did you have fun f un picki picking ng ffruit ruit w with ith t he D. D.C. C.?” ?” h he e asked mockingl mockingly. y. “Off course, “O course,”” she ret urned. “Y “You ou saw it yourself. yourself.”” He nodded. “For a while you lopped about ten years off Martin. Never occurred to me the D.C. might be vulnerable.” “He’s not. He’s simply nice all through.” “Bless you,” he said with sarcasm. “Are you really innocent or is there a scheme budding in that flower-like head of yours? You wouldn’t be wondering whether Martin Craddock might have a good fat her for Kei Keitt h, would you?” “I haven’ haven’tt got round to it yet yet,,” she repl replied, ied, “but it’s a t hought.” “He’s nearly nearly ttwice wice your age and rathe ratherr set in hi his s ways. Of course, you’d feel safe safe with  with old

Martin. Not Not much advent ure but not much risk risk,, eit either. her. He’ He’d d cherish you bot h.. h...” “Oh, stop it! It’s beastly to amuse yourself at Martin Craddock’s expense.” Just slight slight ly, ly, his ttone one sharpened. “I “I’m ’m with Mart Martin, in, not against him. Whil While e we were having t ea you looked a little desperate once or twice, and desperation in young people often results in

 

recklessness. reckles sness. Also Also,, I didn’t muc much h care for t he fact t hat you’ you’d d kept qui quiet et about his iinvi nvitt at ion for t his aft afternoon. ernoon. If Paula hadn’ hadn’tt ment mentioned ioned iitt at lunch I wouldn’t h have ave known. known.”” “Do you have to t o be t old ev everything erything I do?” “You know what w hat I’m get gettt ing at, at,”” he said bl blunt untly ly.. “I don’t, and I don’t don’t care, eit either. her. You ha have ve no au autt hority where I’ I’m m concerned, none at all all..” “Granted, but it would have been natural for you to have told me this morning that you and Keith were teaion with D.C.; to most people it’s quite an event You can’t blame me if I put my ownhaving const ruct ruction onthe your silence. silence.” ” “Being the man you are you’re bound to measure everything to your own satisfaction. I like Mr. Cradd Craddock ock..” “You’ve said said t hat before. before.”” “... but I certainly don’t aspire to marrying a District Commissioner,” she went on as if he hadn’t cut in. “If I ever ask Mart Martin in for help it will be as a ffri riend end or in his official capaci capacitt y. y.”” “Good. You’d bet bettt er stick t o tthat hat..” Infuriated, she turned her head quickly and looked out at the black shapes of the Mulera coffee t rees. She woul would d never be abl able e t o agree with Ross on any poi point nt t hat matt ered—n ered—never! ever! As if it would ever have occurred to her that Martin Craddock could deliver her from the co-guardianship by marry marrying ing her! Lou was too angry to think about it very clearly. She kept her head averted and did not even look at Ross when the car stopped at the bungalow and he helped them out. But Lou wasn’t permitted to follow Keith into the living-room; a lean brown hand detained her. Ross said softly, but forcibly, “Nothing in the way of human relationships is impossible in t hese places, Louise. On t he ot her hand, bot h friendships and marri marriages ages have t o have a st strong rong foundation or they’re likely to crack wide open. Let me make a point; yesterday, the D.C. had decided to foster a friendship between you and young Peter Whyte. Today, I notice, Peter  wasn’t even asked to t ea. ea.”” “He was w as busy, and besides, we’d have b been een an odd number. number.”” “Y “You ou wouldn’t wouldn’t.. I t ook Paul Paula a home and st ayed for t ea. I hadn’t been invited.” “Well, t here must have bee been n an off offici icial al rreason. eason. Let ’s forget it—p it—please!” lease!” He looked at her with the characteristic smile. “Superficially women are quite different from each other, aren’t they? It’s in the fundamentals that they’re alike. They all want security— either moral or financial or both—and a touch of romance if they can get it. At the moment your need for securit securit y is rat rather her st stronger ronger tthan han t he desire for ki kisses. sses.”” “How did you reach reach t hat concl conclusi usion?” on?” she demanded tart ly ly.. “It was easy. You want Keith all to yourself and you think the only way to get him is by marrying someone who understands your situation and whom I can’t possibly disapprove of.” His tone became tantalizing. “But it cuts both ways, and in this marriage business I have the

 

advantage because you can’t marry till you’re asked, but I can propose to someone tonight, if I  want t o. o.”” Lou heard herself saying, a little huskily, “Well, why don’t you? I’m sure Miss Craddock would accept.” His smile glittered in the darkness of the porch, his voice held the familiar touch of gentle malice. “Paula and I do suit each other, don’t we? But neither of us is in a hurry, and there’s a good deal t o be said for delici delicious ous uncert aint ainty. y. I’m sur sure e you agree. agree.”” She made to pass him and he pushed the door open. Without looking back she said, “I’m quite accustomed accust omed to loc lockin king g up now. T here’s re reall ally y no need for you t o come down and t ry tthe he doors every night. night .” “T hink of it it,,” he said coolly. “T hat ’s tthe he sort of chap I am. Goodnight.” For the rest of that evening Lou felt ragged. Indeed, several days passed before she slipped back into her usual cheerful mood, and even then her optimism was far more cautious than it had ever been before. There were slight changes in the routine. Previously, Ross had looked in alone at odd times of the day, but now he was invariably accompanied by Paula Craddock—whether by accident or design Lou could not tell. Certainly Paula talked as if it were natural that she and Ross should often be together, but Lou could not reconcile the fact with what she knew of him. Ross liked to concentrate during working hours, and while he was his own manager he had plentt y tto plen o do. Yet it did s seem eem that he want ed Pau Paula la to be present when he saw Kei Keitt h; one day he even carried carried the chil child d away for a drive wi witt h t he t wo of t hem. Lou had a rat rather her ttense ense ttim ime e of it whil while e t hey were gone, but Ke Keith ith ret urned br breezil eezily y t o t he haven, and not nothin hing g was changed. Lou heard details of the party to be held at Ross Gilmore’s house. It was to be a lavish affair in garden and living-room, living-room, wit h Paula as host hostess. ess. As Ross had negligent negligently ly mentioned, iitt would be a good opportunity for Lou to meet everyone. Lou felt, sinkingly, that she would rather stay unknown. Then suddenly, on the day before the party, there was rain—torrents of it. And the day became memorable memorable to Lou for t wo reasons. The first concerned Keith. Rain kept him indoors and from sheer boredom he pencilled a dozen shaky lines on the wall. Lou made him help her to erase them and then gave him a sheet of her own notepaper. He scrawled indecipherably till, with studied carelessness, she sho we d him how she t aught chi childr ldren en t o form t he alphab alphabet et . Be Before fore he knew it, K Keith eith was laboriously labori ously maki making ng let lettt ers in an exercise book, and af aftt er lunch he copied a ship from one of his old pict picture ure books books.. And t o compl complet ete e t he capi capitt ul ulat at ion he al allowed lowed L Lou ou t o read tto o him in bed from one of his own selections of fairy tales! Lou was so thankful that after she had left him she stared out into the sodden darkness  wit h shi shining ning eyes. Her own idea had worked. Occasionall Occasionally y during t he past few days she had told him about the children she taught and encouraged him to laugh at their exploits. There had been the “little boy who looks very like you, Keith,” and twin girls who invariably brought date sandwiches for lunch. Keith had been faintly roused, and Lou had calculated that at this rate it would take at least three weeks to get him interested in lessons. But the rain—one of t hose unexp unexpect ected ed days of st storm orm t hat happened iin n Nya Nyasal saland and dry s season— eason— had s swept wept away t he whole soft softeni ening-up ng-up process process.. When tthe he sun shone K Keith eith might not be so keen tto o lear learn, n, but the first step had been accomplished. Lou felt that from now on she could be firmer with him.

 

It was still teeming with rain when she had supper, and because it was so much cooler she  went t o bed a and nd lay t here reading wit with h t he rain-laden air sweeping bet ween t he curt ains into the room. She heard a car swish round the drive, and the usual sounds of door handles being

tried. For a moment, she rather longed to open one of the doors and invite him in for a drink; but it passed, t he car waded away aga again in and there was not nothin hing g but t he rai rain n pelting on lleaves eaves and gurgling gurgling from t he overfl overflow ow pipe of one of t he t anks. Ros Ross s must have seen her lilight ght but he hadn’tt even bot hadn’ bothered hered tto o call g goodni oodnight ght After that, reading was difficult. Lou got up and made some coffee, carried it into the livingroom and filled a cup. She was sipping and staring rather disconsolately at nothing when a rapping rappi ng sound drew her tto o t he door. A visitor—in such weather? Or perhaps an African with a message. But a message from  whom? T he sound came again, more sharply sharply,, and rat rather her breat breathlessl hlessly y she swit switched ched on t he outside light, slid the bolt and turned the key. She opened the door and gazed blankly at the man who stood st ood tthere here iin n t he porch porch,, cover covered ed by t he t hat hatch ch from the rain bu butt dri drippi pping ng from every point of his person. He was t all allish ish and sli sliml mly y buil builtt , and wore an o old ld ttrench rench coat t hat was black wit h rain. His His looks, Lou felt, were unimportant on such a night. He gave her a weary smile. “I’m human—just about. The name is Greg Allwyn. May I come in?” She stood aside, clutching her dressing-gown tightly below her throat. “I think you’d better. T ake off your coat and leave iitt just inside tthe he door. Would you llike ike som some e coff coffee?” ee?” He looked at her her,, gave a t ired ired laugh. “You sound like Engl England. and. M May ay I have a spot of whisky in it?” “I think t hink tthere’s here’s a lilitt t le. le.”” Lou poured, wat watching ching him. him. “Have you been ilill?” l?” “Not desper desperat ately ely—j —just ust a bit seedy. seedy.”” “Should “Shoul d you be out on a night like like t his his?” ?” Again, in spite of hims himself, elf, he grinned. “Y “You’re ou’re a real breat breath h of home, and unusual wit h it I t urn up in the middle of nowhere and you treat it as if I’ve taken shelter on my way up the street. This is quite near the Mulera plantation, isn’t it?” “It is Mulera is Mulera..” “Is it, it , t hough?” T he informat information ion apparent apparently ly gave hi him m pause. “Is t his the manager’s house?” She nodded. “Sit down and drink the coffee or you’ll get the shivers. Where are you making for?” He drank and put down the cup, lowered himself to a chair. “This house, as a matter of fact. I t hought it would b be e empty. empty.”” Lou stood back from the table and regarded him; under his tan he was pale, and his movements had the slackness of more than normal tiredness. “Are you the new manager?” “That’s the general idea. Three months’ trial. I’m not due here for nine days, but I was

 

footloose andhave decided His light brown glance rested on the youthful curves of her face. “Do you a father fatto hercome.” or som someone eone around?” “Someone,” she replied guardedly. “Did you come by car?” “Only “O nly as far as the river. T he road is awash and I walked t he rest of t he way. way.”” “The river?” she echoed. “I don’t even know it” He shrugged. “T hat ’s how a good many of t he river rivers s are in Africa; t hey only show in tthe he rains.” He pushed a hand over lank hair which now looked the color of old rope. “I’ll have to

think this out. Don’t let it worry you.” His tone put Lou at ease. She went quietly along to the bathroom bat hroom for a t owel, broug brought ht it back and put it in his han hands. ds. “Dry your hair and take off your shoes. It’s only about ten, so we should be able to send a message to t o Mr Mr.. Gi Gilm lmore. ore. One of his servants lives iin n t he quart ers at t he back and I’l I’lll get hold of him.” “O h, no, “Oh, no,”” he said hast ily. ily. “I won’t let Ross Gi Gilm lmore ore know I’ I’m m in tthe he vicini vicinitt y yet If t he house had been available I’d have been happy to get dug in and familiarize myself with the plantation, but as things are he’s not likely to welcome me.” He thought for a moment “Do you have a spare room?” She shook her head. “Af raid I can’t off offer er you tthe he empt empty y bedroom. bedroom.”” He looked past her her,, at t he open doorw doorway ay t o t he corri corridor dor,, raked back his dryi drying ng hair hair,, ““Do Do you live with a brother?” Lou studied him. Now, his hair was lighter, the color of damp sand, and consequently the brown eyes appeared darker. His features were thin and good, but his mouth had the slant of disillllusionment disi usionment and abo about ut his eyes t he skin was lined. He looked tthirtyish hirtyish and t horoughly seasoned; one might have said the same of Ross Gilmore, but in Ross the experienced look had vitality and keenness. Greg Allwyn carried a faint air of ruin about him but even so he was at t ract ractive. ive. When he felt t horoughly well he was probably very aware of his good looks. Carefully, she explained her posi Carefully positt ion. He lilist stened, ened, nodded when she ment ioned tthe he West ons and was silent for a moment when she had finished. He began to look a little better, less grey about the mouth and slightly more alert. His eyes had the kind of smile she had seen once or t wice iin n men who knew a great deal about women, yet she felt she could trust him him.. “I honestly don’t believe Mr. Gilmore will mind your arriving rather early,” she said. “He has spare rooms rooms at his ho house use and can put you up ri right ght away—even tonight tonight..” He felt felt in the t op pocket of his bush shi shirt rt for cig cigarett arett es. “I “I’l’lll be hone honest st t oo, oo,”” he said. “T he way I’ve been ffeeling, eeling, a house o off my ow own n soun sounded ded like heaven heaven.. A room iin n Ross Gil Gilmore more ’s house house,, on t he ot her hand, sounds lilike ke a rat rather her different place! II’d ’d sooner llive ive iin n a ttent ent .” She was curious. “Do you know him very well?” “Let’s put it t hat I know him him..” It seemed as iiff he mi might ght lea leave ve it at t hat hat;; t hen he look looked ed at her her,, let his glance rove the slender shoulders, the short brown hair streaked with gold. “If you’re partners with him in the care of this child you must be finding out things about Ross. How do you get alo along ng wit with h him him?” ?”

 

“He’s maddening, but quit quite e kind. kind.”” “Friendly?” “In an armed way—yes.” way—yes.” She paused. “If you don’t lilike ke him why did you t ake on t he job?” “For me,” he said jadedly, “it’s a leg-up. I was in forestry with Ross for about a year—just before he t ook t his pl place. ace. Bei Being ng t he sort of guy I am I just st stayed ayed in forest ry ry.. It ’s a good lilife fe if you’re keen on timber and scenery, but I was sated with both after about six months. I stayed because I hadn’ hadn’tt fitt ed mysel myselff t o do anyt hing el else. se.”” “So this t his is a new st start art ffor or you you?” ?” “T hat hat’s ’s rright. ight. I ought t o be st strai rainin ning g at t he leas leash. h.”” “But you’re not—because you’ve been ill ill?” ?” He lay back and crossed his khaki-stockinged feet, had the appearance of a man who

longed to relax. “You’re awfully maternal for your age. For heaven’s sake stop looking as if you’re sorry so rry fo forr me, or I shall unload.” With a business-like movement Lou placed the cups back on the tray. “I only put questions because I couldn’t understand a man being so down in the dumps. You’re free to do as you like; like; you didn’t have t o come tto o Muler Mulera a if you don’t get along wit with h Ross Gi Gilm lmore. ore.”” “I get along wit with h him. I haven’t his ruthless out look and unlim unlimit ited ed energy, so it makes me ttir ired ed  just t o tthink hink ahead. ahead.”” He offered tthe he cigarett es and was lilight ght ing one for each of tthem hem now, wit h a match. “In the past few years I haven’t seen much of Ross. We’d meet occasionally at the club in Zomba, but I never came this way and Ross hardly ever came back to see the forestry types. The weekend after the Westons were killed Ross saw the lawyer in Zomba, and I ran into him. He asked me if I’d been working without a contract, so I gave a month’s notice, but half-way through it I hooked a dose of fever and had to finish. Actually, I gave up my quarters too soon. I’ve been kicking about for several days. When the rain came I had to make some sort of decision, and it seemed wiser tto o come here and set t le iin. n. Never occur occurred red tto o me II’d ’d find a pretty girl installed.” He livened a little. “If I believed in anything I’d take you as a good omen. One of my most t roublesom roublesome e dreams iis s about a girl who could easily be you!” She laughed. “Now you’re being obvious. And you haven’t made it clear why you aren’t keen t o work fo forr Ross. Ross.”” “Did I say that?” It’s not really true.” He paused. “Have you ever envied someone who’s thoroughly adjusted and successful? Maybe not, because you’re adjusted yourself and success wouldn’t mean much t o you—w you—worldl orldly y success, I mean. Ross is a posit positive ive charact character; er; he knows where whe re he’ he’s s going and he expect s ot hers t o be t he same. He came t o Africa in a pioneering pioneeri ng spiri spiritt , and II’ve ’ve heard hi him m say t hat wherever a man lives he should creat create e somet hing permanent or perennial—like trees and industries. He’s never seriously thought of anything else since he’s been here.” “You’ve creat created ed t rees rees,,” she pointed out . “Oh, “O h, sure, but I don’t care about t hem. hem.”” “Does Ross Ross k know now t hat hat?” ?”

 

His His smil smile e flickered, his regard became a litt le more intent "You know, I’m beginning tto o wonder won der  what I’ve dropped into into—and —and t o rat rather her like like it Would you care t o t ake me on, and st ay in t he house?” “Take you on?” she asked blankly. “Marry me,” said Gregg. “For a moment I thought you were serious about my staying in the house,” she said, relieved. “Y “You’d ou’d bet bettt er be careful wit with h your proposals. Someone Someone may call your bluff!” He knocked ash into int o t he t ray she had pushed nea nearr him, sighed and murmured, “I’ “I’m m no capture for any woman. It’s such a long time since I’ve met anyone remotely like you that I felt quite dizzy dizz y for a mom moment ent with hope. hope.”” “You’re still light-headed from fever,” she said severely. “What are we going to do with you tonight?” He listened to the rain hammering outside, bent to put on his shoes. He looked up and his face was w as drawn. “I s suppose uppose t here’s a garage; you must give m me e tthe he key tto o it.” ‘It’s dusty and full of junk—you can’t sleep out there. I think you’re the most improvident man I ever met met!” !” “I could could wade back t o my car and spend t he night in iitt .”

“That’s impossible. Please let me send for Mr. Gilmore.” He stood up quickly. “Not on your life. I’ll face Ross in daylight after I’ve had a bath and a change chang e of clot clothes. hes. II’ll ’ll manage.” “A “And nd cat ch a chill chill,, if you haven’t got one already! Mr. All Allwyn.” wyn.” “Call me G Greg. reg. And st op fret t ing. I've slept out in al alll sor sortt s of weat her. her.”” “But I haven’t known about it,” she said firmly, “and this time I do know. Where’s your luggage?” “In the t he car. car.”” “Then you must stay here till the ram stops. She looked about her, thinking quickly. “Spend the night here in this room, I’ll lock the door on the other side and you can sleep on the couch. Do you think t hink tthe he rain wil willl last last much llonger?” onger?” “T wo or t hree hours, perhaps. perhaps.”” “Well, all I ask is that you disappear before the servant comes into the house—at about sixt hir hirtt y. You’l You’lll be qui quitt e shut off ffrom rom t he rest of t he house. Wi Willll t hat hel help?” p?” “Tremendously. You’re such a sweet little Goldilocks that I wouldn’t dream of putting you in a spot. I’ll go just before dawn.” Lou hesitated, with her fingers on the tray handles. “I’ve a feeling that you need a doctor. Will you promise promise tto o find one when you leave here?”

 

He smiled easily. “Yes, “Y es, I promise. You You’re ’re quit quite eag girl irl L Lou ou Prent ice. ice.”” “You could be quite quit e a man,” she said qui quiet et ly, “if you liliked ked yourself a litt le bet bettt er er.. Can I get you anything?” “No more whisky?” w hisky?” “Only t he sp spot ot in t he bott om o off t he bott le.” e.” “I’m “I’m afraid II’l’lll have t o rob you of it , but I’ll ’ll make it up t o you some d day. ay.”” “Y “You’re ou’re welc welcome ome tto o it, but I do hope iitt won’t make you oversl oversleep. eep.”” He smil smiled ed and winked. “My system is hard hardened ened t o it— won’t cave iin n t o less tthan han half a bot t le. I’m not sleepy sleepy,, anyway; onl only y a bit whacked.” He moved and pat t ed her shoulder shoulder.. “Sorry I had t o be way below normal the first time we meet, but I’ll put in a few days’ rest with friends, and come back fit I’ll ’ll lleave eave t he room t idy iin n t he morning. morning.”” “T hanks. Goodnight.” She sli slipped pped out with t he ttray ray,, set it down w whil hile e she tturned urned the key in the lock and then t ook it along to the kitchen. She listened at Keith’s door, went into her own room but was too disturbed to get into bed at once. She stood near the window and imagined the look of the garden, with the rain still tumbling into the lake it had become. She could feel moisture bouncing through the wire screen, and she thought of all the rivers forming in the gulleys and t heir headlong race over grass and bo boulders ulders and hil hillsi lsides des int o Lake Nyasa. She went t o bed, list listened ened tto o t he concer concertt o of t he rai rain n and eventually fel felll iint nto o an uneasy sl sleep. eep. She awoke to a cloudless sunrise, remembered instantly and crept along the corridor to the living-room. living-room. Slowly, Slowly, she t urned t he key and edged open t he door.

The room was neat and untenanted; he had even emptied and dusted the ashtray. Lou opened a window, breathed in the rain-washed, scented air. This was the day of Ross Gilmore’s party. Ross came to the bungalow at about ten, walked into the living-room and called lazily, “Anyone at home?” Lou heard him in her bedroom, hurriedly blotted the letter she had been writing and went t hrough to see him him.. She was wearing a blue sunfrock and a row of white beads, and her hair was brushed into a careless cap of short deep waves. She stopped and looked at him, standing outlined near the  window. He was incr incredibl edibly y t all and broad, and a light shone upon t he t ight skin of his jaw jaw.. F For or some reason reason L Lou’ ou’s s heart ski skipped pped a beat t hat it was never tto o pick up agai again. n. “Did you want me?” she asked, wi witt h a curious huski huskiness. ness. “Want?” He savored the word, and let it drop. Negligently, he said. “You’ve been here about t en days an and d haven’ haven’tt seen tthe he L Lake. ake. It ’s worth t he t ri rip p aft er a good rai rain. n. How would you llik ike e to go down there for a picnic?” “Today? What about your party?”

 

“That’s hours away. I’ve stowed a box of food in the car. We can bathe and have lunch, and get back here in time for you to shower and have a rest before dressing. I promised Keith we’d do it one day. day.”” “Just t he ..... t hree of us?” “T hat hat’s ’s rright, ight, llitt itt le one, one,”” with a narrow smi smile. le. “T hink yo you u can st and it?” “ I’ll t ry.” “Fine.” He jijingled “Fine.” ngled someth something ing iin n his jjacket acket pocket , pull pulled ed it out and showed it in tthe he palm of his hand. “Know anyt anythin hing g about t his his?” ?” It was a man’ man’s s st stainl ainless ess steel wristwat ch; t he worn leather st rap had dra dragged gged away from iitt s metal anchorage, and was stiff and dark. “No.”” she said with a flut “No. fluttt er in her t hroat. “Wher “Where e did you find iitt ?” “On t he pat path. h. It mus mustt have been out all nigh nightt in the rain rain,,” He dropped the wat ch back iint nto o his pocket “I’ll find the owner some time. Run along, Louise, and bring Keith back with you. Don’t forget your bathing ki kitt .” She left him, rather hurriedly, paused for a moment before entering Keith’s bedroom. The child looked up from playing with a train and said yes, he’d like to go down to the Lake. He found his briefs briefs and t rott ed t hroug hrough h t o t he lilivi ving-room ng-room,, and five mi minut nutes es later Lou joi joined ned t hem. She had a swim-suit roll rolled ed in a t owel under her arm, and dangled a whit   whit e cap from her fingers. “A “Are re you sure tthis his iis s all we’ll need?” she asked. “Quit “Q uite e sure, sure,”” Ross t old her. “A “Alili knows w we’re e’re goi going. ng.”” He swung Keith into the back of the car—not the estate wagon but a streamlined saloon— and put Lou into t he front seat. H He e t ook hi his s plac place e and t hey were off, c crunc runching hing down tthe he lane t owards the main ro road. ad. Lou’s uneasiness wore off. She felt the breeze through her hair, and Keith leaning over the back of the seat between herself and Ross, and she saw that they were turning away from t he Chek Chekwe we st ores and towards t he mi mist sty y bl blue ue val valley ley bet between ween t he hil hills ls.. T hey ran be bett ween t he Mulera coffee trees, and down the edge of the cotton fields, crossed a wooden bridge which

spanned a swamp sw amp where rice gr grew. ew. “I’ve wanted to come this way,” she said. “The views here are so tantalizing that you feel you must investigat e t hem. At least, I do. do.”” “Plenty of time,” Ross commented. “Not getting bored, are you?” “Of cours course e not , but I would llik ike e t o be able tto o get about and see mor more e of t he count country ry.. Where’s t he great Shi Shire re Ri River?” ver?” “Sout h, from here. Our river iis s t he Kolana, and it runs out into Kol Kolana ana Bay Bay.. Sever Several al of us have shacks above t he beach and keep can canoes. oes. Our t ast es, es,”” w wit ith h faint mockery, “are ffairl airly y civili civilized zed..” “Y “You’re ou’re all civi civilized lized p people,” eople,” she sa said. id. “Surprisingly so. so.””

 

“What ’s s surpr urpris ising ing abo about ut it? It’s t he moder modern n ameni amenitt ie ies s t hat keep white peopl people e sane in faraway places. We have to get along without television, but in other ways our homes are ahead of the majority in England. It’s always the same where white people settle a fairly new country.” She nodded. “T here’s such a difference in incom incomes. es. T he government off offici icials als here seem  well-off..”  well-off “T hey do fairly well. T he D. D.C. C.,, of course, comes from a rich ffamily. amily.”” “Does he?” She paused. “Is M Miss iss C Craddock raddock here t o keep house for him?” “Not really. If you get a good head boy in this country you don’t need a housekeeper. Paula has plenty of cash in her own right; she has an estate in Hampshire, but generally spends the dry season here in Chekwe.” “Y “You ou must know very well. well.”” “Oh, yes,” non-commitally. “I know her place in Hampshire, too. It’s probably one of the most efficiently-run estates in England. That comes of having a manager there who’s crazy about her.” Lou said evenly, “I should think a good many men have been in love with Paula Craddock. She’s very beautiful.” “Sure is, is,” he repli replied ed laconical laconically ly,, and left it at t hat . T hey had climbed a small hil hilll beyond t he rice swamp and from its eminence the Lake was visible, vast and very blue and fringed with lush lus h green gro growt wt h. T hey cam came e down t he hil hilll and tthe he view was cut off, and for som some e t im ime e t here  was not hing but t he roadside hedg hedges es of acacia, which shone wit h t he many shades of red in the new leaves which the rain had miraculously brought forth. Then the trees began to vary; musuku, wit h t heir heavi heavily-ri ly-ribbed bbed leaves and clust clusters ers of scarlet fruit fruit,, clum clumps ps of t all bamboo, t he indigenous Mlanje cedar and an occasional gigantic and grotesque baobab. A tangle of banana scrub came next, and then the beach, fringed with coconut palms and looking for all t he world as iiff it bel belonged onged tto o a South Sea iisl sland. and. The car stopped just above the beach under a tree and Lou leaned forward, her glance wide and rapturous rapt urous.. “I never imagined imagined anyt anything hing lilike ke t his, his,”” she breat hed. “It’s reall really y lilike ke t he sea. H How ow ffar ar is iitt t o t he ot her si side de of t he L Lake?” ake?” “About twenty miles, just here. It might well be two hundred for all you can see of it” He looked at her. “You must have seen the Lake from the air when you arrived. Didn’t it impress you then?”

Yes, but I had so much else on my mind. T he plane was a bit bumpy bumpy,, t oo. She shone round at him him.. “I “Itt mus mustt be t he lov loveli eliest est country in tthe he world!” “Not bad,” he conceded. “It’s practically all Lake and mountains but we’ve plenty of fertile land.” Again his glance rested upon her. “You make me want to remember how I felt the first t im ime e I came tthis his way. I’m afraid tthe he sensat ion iis s lost in t he mists of t ime. ime.”” “You probably didn’t feel a thing,” she said gaily. “I’d rather be me, and feel it a little too much.”” She t urned t o Keith. “Come on, darli much. darling. ng. We’r We’re e going t o bat he!”

 

“Take your time,” said Ross. He put out a hand to detain her, and carelessly held her fingers under his, his, on t he seat bet between ween t hem. “So you’ you’d d rather feel t oo muc much h t han ttoo oo lilitt t le?” “Yes ... I think I would.” She colored slightly, but was smiling at him. “You do get rather low  when you’re sad, but happiness takes you up tto o heaven!” His His left eyebrow lift lifted. ed. “Really? B Been een in heaven lat ely?” “You mean—very happy? No, I suppose not. But beauty and peace go a long way towards making one happy.” “I wouldn’ wouldn’tt say that . T hey onl only y hel help p t o accen accentt uat uate e t he feeli feelings, ngs, and tthat hat goes for the dept hs as well as t he height s. If you decide tto o st ay in Nyasal Nyasaland and II’l’lll tteach each you a few t hings, Loui Louise. se.”” His His gent ler m mood ood was blunt blunting ing tthe he edge of her caution. “Such as what ?” she asked. “Such as enjoying things t hings you’ve never known befo before. re.”” “T he coun countt ry ry?” ?” “A “And nd people, and yourself. You haven haven’t ’t much knowledge of yourself, have you?” Her swift gla glance nce at him was st artled. “How can you be so sur sure e of t hat hat?” ?” “By watching you,” he said lazily. “You’re innocent about a good many things. You’ve always thought the world began and ended with that kindergarten in England and your few friends there. By the way,” with a hint of cynicism, “you must be missing those friends. Any men among them?” “One or t wo. wo.”” “A “Anyone nyone special special?” ?” “You’ve asked me that before. before.”” “A “And nd you’ve avoided answering—j answering—just ust as you’re avoi avoiding ding iitt now. What w was as his name?” For a moment she was too vexed at the turn so pleasant and exciting a conversation had taken to give him a reply, her hand became hot under his and she withdrew it Then she caught his glance, the faint malice and derision in his smile, and she thought defensively, of Arnold Maskell, Maskell, who hadn’t even known she had left Engl England and t ililll she had wri writt t en him. She heard herself saying heatedly, ‘You’re so jaded with experience yourself that to you almost anyone would seem unfledged. I may not be one of your worldly types but I haven’t been shut up in a room all my life! life!”” “Sounds interest int eresting. ing. T ell me more!” “Why should I feel your twisted sense of humor?” she said indignantly. “Come on, Keith,  we’re going going tto o bat bathe. he.”” As he lifted Keith from the car and held the door for Lou, Ross looked uncaring and full of

sardonic amusement amusement He ttook ook her elbow and Kei Keitt h s hand, very firm firmly. ly.

 

“You won’t want t o expl explore ore after a bat he so we’ we’llll do iitt now, now,”” he sai said. d. “Sl “Sligh ightt ly to t he left here  we should find a wat erfall. IIn n t he rainy season t here are doz dozens ens of t hem round t he bay— drainage from the uplands. Kei Keitt h knows t he wat erfall—don’ erfall—don’tt you, old chap?” Keith seemed to be sliding into the sort of child he had been before losing his parents. He nodded and said with engaging patronage, “But we’ll show Lou—she hasn’t seen it yet. I don’t suppose there’ll be any trout.” T hey t rod betw between een pal palms, ms, found a ffoot ootpat path h which lled ed over a coupl couple e of hilloc hillocks ks and down t o a cleft where a river coursed swiftly over stones and bushes. They followed the river to where it poured p oured in m magnificent agnificent abandon over a ledge and down past rocks and sapl saplings ings iint nt o tthe he Lake. The water leapt and made rainbows in the sun, it roared and gurgled, and Lou found herself getting down as Keith did, and lying flat so that she could watch and feel the spray over her face and hair. Ross sank down to one knee, tweaked a curl so that she had to turn her head and look up at him him.. Her face w was as pink and sparkli sparkling, ng, her red lips had a t ender excit excited ed curve and h her er lashes and brows were were wet with spray. His His expression changed slightly. “Don’ “Don’tt look so darned young,” he said abrupt ly. Her excitement faded. She blinked and turned back to contemplation of a waterfall which had lost its appeal. Her heart was beating unevenly into the earth, but she made herself answer Keith’s queries and ask him a few questions in return. She turned and sat up, saw that Ross Ros s had st rai raight ghtened ened and move moved d along tthe he ledge ledge.. He stood w with ith his ha hands nds in tthe he pockets of his khaki short shorts, s, st studying udying tthe he shim shimmeri mering ng wat er. She got up with Keith, flicked grass from her skirt. Ross joined her, casually, and without speaking they went back to the car and along to a log hut which stood among cycads and t hor horn n t re rees. es. “T his is m mine, ine,”” Ross said. “You and Kei Keitt h can use it it.. You ’l’lll find some t owels, if you n need eed ext ras. Got all your gear?” “Y “Yes, es, t hank you. you.”” “We didn’t explore e xplore much, much,”” comment commented ed Kei Keitt h. Ross ruffled his hair. “It’s all been done before,” he said, and his smile, narrow-eyed and cryptic, crypt ic, rest rested ed upon Lou. “Meet you in th the e wat er. All ri right ght ?” She nodded, and took Keith into the hut. Perhaps because her throat was a little tight and her movements movements jerk jerky y she did not giv give e much at attt ent ention ion to t he picn picnic ic furn furniture iture and heavy orange curtains. She let the child undress first, and sent him out, got quickly into her own daffodil yellow swim-suit and picked up her cap. The sun beat warmly upon her skin, the beach burned her feet so that the water, when it lapped over them, felt icy cold. She pulled on her cap, saw Ross swimming back through the mild waves and braced herself against whatever he might say. But he didn’t speak at once. He emerged from the water, big and as brown as the coffeeberries berri es he produced, rraked aked back his hair hair,, gave her t he sort of glance t hat roves and sums up in t wo seconds and nodded back tow towards ards the Lake. “Do you swim or play at it ?” “I can swim,” she said briefly.

 

Go ahead, then. I ll watch Keith. She was glad to leave them. She swam out floated, and swam again. It was tiring and she  was glad. As she tu turned rned back t owards tthe he beach R Ross oss cam came e beside her, swimm swimming ing eff effort ortlessl lessly. y. “Y “You’re ou’re doing ttoo oo much. C Come ome on in, in,”” he said. She moved slowly through the swell, and he hooked one arm under hers and gave her his strength. They reached the sand and he let go of her. She stood up and waded ashore, dragged off her cap. Keith was away under the trees, playing some game of his own, and had her legs not felt so weak she would have gone to him. Ross touched her shoulder and she shivered. He asked sharply, “Don’t you feel well?” “O f course I do, “Of do,”” she an answered, swered, wit hout much spir spirit it.. “Keit “Keith h needn’t dress, but I will will,, before w we e eat.” “Have a rest rest firs firstt ” He found a t owel and flung it round her shou shoulder lders. s. “Come iint nto o t he shade and sit down.” d own.” She went with him, sank down under a thick tuft of palms and pushed back her hair. Ross  went off for his jacket came back, and wit with h movement movements s t hat were forceful and deli deliberat berat ely masculine he got out cigarettes and lit them. Then he leaned back on one hand, and for some minutes there were only the sounds of the breeze in the leaves and the humming birds, and t he soft lap lappin ping g of t he waves ove overr the pale beach. “You wish you hadn’t come down here with me, don’t you?” “Yes, I’m afraid I do.” “Why?” She answered quietly and frankly, “Y “You’re ou’re not a very comfort able person to be w with.” ith.” “You mean I disturb you?” he asked in those soft, gibing tones. She lifted lifted her head and saw t he gli glint nt in tthe he greeni greenish-brown sh-brown eyes, was t hankful to perc perceiv eive e that Keith was ambling towards them. She shook her head. “Not in the way you mean, Mr. Gi Gilm lmore, ore,”” she repli replied ed in her most normal tones. “All I meant was t hat when I go on a jaunt I lilike ke t o fe feel el free and ffri riendly. endly. You t ie me up insi inside, de, and I don’ don’tt care for it it..” “You were t ied up insi inside de befo before re you met me, honey,” he said in an undert one, as Kei Keitt h joined them. Fortunately, Keith had something on his mind. “I’m hungry,” he complained. “Can’t we eat now?” “Sure we can,” said Ross. “Come with me to collect the food box. Stay right here, young Louise. You can dress later.” It was an excellent picnic and Lou wished she had more appetite for it. Usually after a swim she was ravenous, but today Ross had spoiled things. And throughout the meal he went on spoiling them. With Keith he was good-humored and informative. With Lou he was exactly the same, but as he looked her way there was that experienced, worldly expression in his lean handsome face, the lord-of-the-universe look which put her back where she belonged, among

 

the young and innocent and negligible. She got the impression that he was telling her he had brought her here for a very simple reason; as Keith’s guardians they owed an occasional treat t o tthe he chi child ld.. Keith became sleepy, his mind wandered. Ross got up and picked up his jacket; Lou gathered the towel and indicated that she was going to the hut. He went with her and opened t he door, asked companionably companionably,,

“Feel bet bettt er now?” “Yes, I’m fine.” “St ill ill somet something hing missi missing?” ng?” “Missing?” He nodded. nodded. “You’re of an age t o t hin hink k a picni picnic c prett y holl hollow ow if t here’ here’s s no roman romance ce t o go wit h it.” Her cheeks hot she said quickly, quickly, “I wouldn’ wouldn’tt expect romance from you!” “That’s what I thought, but there’s a dash of spice in the unexpected. Don’t you agree?” Withoutt hast e, he held her chin and briefly but firml Withou firmly y kissed her her.. In a ref reflex lex act action ion her fist came up but he caught and held it grinned into her face. “Tut-tut we’re sober co-guardians!” he admonished her. But Lou hardl hardly y heard. S She he w was as breat hing lilike ke someone old w who ho has climbed a st aircase. She st stepped epped back into t he hut and sl slamm ammed ed tthe he door door.. For a long moment she stood there in the dimness, one hand to her throat and the other pressing against her throbbing temple. She felt sick and frightened; yet her pulses were leaping unbearably. He wouldn’t have kissed her if he hadn’t wanted to. But wouldn’t he? It  wasn’t as iiff t here had been any ..... any affect ion in t he kiss. He had merely been int erest erested ed in her reaction; perhaps he had half-hoped she would get really violent—certainly Ross Gilmore  was t he sort of man who had tto o subdue hi his s women. She fumbled her way into her clothes, combed back her hair and rolled her swim-suit in the t owel. T hen she stood irr irresol esolut ute e wit with h her hand on the door cat ch and her gl glance ance on tthe he easy chairs chai rs with t hei heirr emer emerald ald cus cushi hions. ons. Sh She e saw t he low wicker t able able and an asht ray tthat hat hel held d t he remain rem ains s of t wo cigar cigaret et t es, bot both h of t he brand Ro Ross ss smo smoked. ked. One of t hem was pi pink nk wit with h lilipst pstic ick. k. Her head was pounding, but suddenly her brain went very clear. No doubt at all that Ross had this place swept and dusted each day, which meant that the cigarettes had been smoked here this morning. He’d already bathed once today ... with a companion have been Paul Paula. a. No doubt he made a habit of kissi kissing ng t he women he brought here! who must Lou’s teeth became clamped, her chin went up. She opened the door and closed it behind her, trod over sand and grass to where Keith was lying, and stirred him gently. She didn’t look at Ross when he came and picked up the drowsy child. Keith was put into the back seat of the car, Lou took her place and they set off. As far as Lou was concerned there was no conversation. She answered Ross in monosyllables, and when they arrived at the bungalow she thanked him in three words. “I’ll “I’ll send down ffor or you t his evening, evening,”” he said.

 

“I’m “I’m afraid I shan’t be able t o come, come,”” she ret returned. urned. “I don’ don’tt feel up t o it it..” “Is t hat a genuine excuse or a feminine one?” “I have a bad head and I’m very tired. I certainly can’t come.” After a short, watchful silence he said, “Very well, little one, I’ll take your word for it. Swallow some aspiri asp irin n and lie down. So long. long.”” Lou led Keith into the house and busied herself with washing the sand from his skin. Everything she did was domestic and soothing, but way down in her consciousness lay a conviction that life had changed drastically for Lou Prentice. She would never feel normal again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

In t im ime, e, t he shat t ering mom moment ent s of life life invari invariably ably assume a kindly vei veill of unrealit unreality y. Looki Looking ng back, one wonders if one could have been so shocked or hurt or even so bewildered as one’s reactions had suggested, and and what ever the dis distt urban urbance, ce, it has a hardeni hardening ng effect on t he will will.. Never again, one says firml f irmly; y; never a again! gain! That was Lou’s decision, and she felt the calmer for it. She let the days slip by, saw Martin Craddock and his sister a few times, met Ross casually either in the bungalow or elsewhere. Peter Whyte, the A.D.C., lent her his small car, and she took Keith for short rides into the mountains. She saw the green abundance of the mountainsides veined with silver streams, and she found native footbridges and hidden mealie patches, thatched villages and the Chekwe Mission. There came an afternoon when, on her way back from a drive down the Zomba road she sighted Ross Gilmore’s estate car pulling away from the Chekwe stores. He appeared to have an elderly woman passenger, but he shot ahead too quickly for Lou to be able to see the stranger clearly. Her hands tightened on the wheel but she drove on steadily and took the turn to the plantation. As she passed the lane to the main house she looked along the garden.. T here were no si garden signs gns of life, but t hen it was not unusual for a house t o look dead iin n t he middle mi ddle of a gril grilliling ng af aftt ernoon. She went with Keith into the bungalow, thanked Ali for the tea he brought and turned over the couple of letters which must have been sent down while she was out. One of them was from her brother in answer to her own letter; she and John had grown up separately and somehow some how t hey had never bee been n able to t o bri bridge dge t he gap of t hose earl early y years years.. The other letter Lou turned over once or twice before finding the right sort of courage to open it. As she had guessed from the typed address, it was from Arnold Maskell. After a prelimi preli minary nary enquir enquiry y about her health health,, which he seemed tto o have expect ed t o det erior eriorat at e rapidl rapidly y in Africa, he said he had been scandalized by her sudden departure and was alarmed by the few facts fact s her lett er h had ad set out out.. “You can’t possibly take on the guardianship of a child, Lou! Think of the future, when you’re

 

much older and he is taken to be your own child and explanations sound a little far-fetched. You may have guessed that I hope eventually to marry you—you must know it, even though  we have never discussed discussed iitt —but how could we possi possibly bly marr marry y wit with h tthe he shadow of t his chil child d so cl close ose tto o us? J Just ust t hink iitt over from my angl angle; e; don’ don’tt be guided by tthe he devot devotion ion you had for t he boy’s mother...” There was quite a lot of it, all in the same vein. Lou folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope; it seemed a ridiculous and stilted epistle. Arnold was pleasant and she had always enjoyed enjoyed havin g h i m as an escor escortt . S She he w would ouldn’t n’t have been norm normal al if she hadn’t occasionally occasional ly wondered whet her he would ever ask her tto o marry hi him, m, and what she would reply. But viewed subjectively, from the distance of several thousand miles, he was plainly a stuffed shirt. She slipped the letters into the desk drawer and went through to the kitchen to decide  what Kei Keitt h would have for supper supper.. The ice-cream needed a final w whippi hipping, ng, but as she set it back in the fridge she noticed that everything was bedewed. She called Daniel from his quarters. “Y “You ou haven’t f illed illed the pa paraffin raffin sump!” she t old hi him. m. “T he fridge is get t ing warm insi inside. de.”” T he black boy shrugged his shoulders. “A “Alili not t ell ell..”

“Well, I’m telling you. It takes six hours to freeze, so we shan’t be able to use the ice-cream t his evening. Please Please do it at once. once.”” Daniel’s English was scanty; it was impossible to disturb him. He shuffled away, and Lou began to clean the paraffin unit herself, on a sheet of newspaper. Her hands were black and greasy when someone entered the living-room and the familiar “Anyone at home?” not only plucked at her heart but made her more cross. She wiped her hands hastily and ran through to the living-room, almost butting into Ross as he came into the corridor. He st eadied her. “Hey, what ’s tthe he rush? Good lord, you smell llike ike a hardwa hardware re st ore. What have you been doing?” “Why don’t you have civilized refrigerators in these parts?” “Because if they’re att at t ended t o regul regularly arly,” ,” he said t ersely ersely,, “t he paraffin t ype are mor more e reliable than electric ones. In summer storms the lighting plant might break down but our food is always always fresh! Som Somet et hing happened t o your fridge?” “The boy forgot to fill it. He said that Ali didn’t tell him; it’s too bad. Keith loves ice-cream for his supper. sup per.”” “I’ll send some down. And don’t glare at me as if I’m at fault. Ali’s suddenly had to go off to his family because someone’s sick.” “Oh,and I’m Lou sorry. It doesn’t matter about the Bynear now,the they were back in thenearing livingroom suddenly saw the woman whoice-cream.” was seated window; a woman sixty, with fine clear features and well-kept grey hair that was tinged with blue. She wore a t ail ailored ored blue lilinen nen suit and slim whit white e shoes, and she smi smiled led at Lou with surpri surprise se and delight delight.. “My word, you are are young,  young, I t hought Ross was pil piling ing iitt on!” “I never pile it on,” he said. “This is Lou Prentice, auntie dear. My Aunt Maud, Mrs. Acland.”

 

T he older woman held out a hand, but Lou gest gestured ured apologet ical ically ly.. “I’m “I’m all paraffin, I’m af afraid. raid. I do w wish ish II’d ’d known you were coming—but I’m awfully glad tto o meet you. you.”” Ross said, “Louise, go and wash your hands and come st raight back. back.”” Lou’s nerves tightened, but before she could answer Mrs. Acland said gently, “Don’t bridle  when Ross is is highhanded; it can be wearing. w earing. I find it best t o obey him when it ’s no trouble and save my ammunition ammunition for when it can do most good. good.”” Lou smiled. smiled. “I t hink you may b be e right .” “There’s a smear on your cheek,” Ross put in negligently. Then, as she turned to leave t hem, “I “Is s t hat Peter Whyte’s ear outside?” “Yes, he lent it t o me. me.”” “While he’s on tour? t our? Where do you drive?” “A “Around, round,”” she said vaguely. “What would you do iiff you had a flat t ire ire or tthe he engi engine ne st stopped?” opped?” “I’d “I’d hope someone wo would uld tturn urn up t o help. help.”” “V “Very ery sensible,” said Mrs. Acland firmly. But Ross was not put off. “You’re not to drive outside the Chekwe district and you must stay on the main roads. I’ll get someone to come down and look over the car before you use it again.”

Lou gave him a llong, ong, exasperat exasperated ed look and went out of t he room. She washed, used a t ouch of coral lipst lipstick ick and went back tto o t he liliving-room, ving-room, t o find Mrs Mrs.. Acland tthere here alone. “Ross has gone to look at your fridge,” the older woman said. “Come and sit near me.” Her birdlike eyes scanned tthe birdlike he flushed cheeks. “Yo “You’re u’re pr pret et t y and you have an int intell elligent igent brow. Are you frightened of Ross?” “Did I look fright frightened ened of him him?” ?” “No, you looked militant, but then a sort of defiance is often a mask for uncertainty and apprehension. Did you know that he sent for me?” Lou shook her head. “He did say tthat hat you come here in the dry season. season.”” “It’s generally later than this. Ross asked me by cable to speed it up this year because he’s expecting a new manager and needs this bungalow. I actually arrived sooner than he thought, so that this house should be free for the man almost at once. Tell me, how do you feel about being responsible responsible for llit ittt le K Keit eith?” h?” “Everyone asks that th at . I can only say that it seems nat ural that I should have charge of him him..” “It could change your w whole hole lilife.” fe.” “It’s changed it already, but I don’t mi mind nd because I love Kei Keitt h.” h.”

 

“Well, love is what he needs, of course. I don’t suppose he receives much outward affection from Rose. My nephew isn’t the type to squander his emotions. Those are his words—not mine!” Lou laughed a little. “I’ve been here three weeks, but that’s quite long enough to be able to recognize Mr. Gilmore’s turn of phrase. I suppose you couldn’t persuade him to give me sole possession of Keit Keit h?” Mrs. Acland surveyed her t hought fully. “What do do you  you think?” “I rather doubt it. But I really can’t understand why he’s so keen to cling to his rights.” She thought of Arnold’s letter, and used one of its arguments. “The woman he marries may not  want Kei Keitt h at all all,, but t he chil child d is so young tthat hat he won’t be happy unless he’s lloved. oved. With me, he’ll have everyt hing he n needs. eeds. B Besides, esides, II’m ’m his relat relative, ive, and Ross isn’t isn’t.. As ffar ar as II’m ’m conce concerned rned it’s like history repeating itself. After my parents died Dorothy looked after me; what more natural nat ural t han tthat hat I shoul should d ttake ake char charge ge of Kei Keitt h?” Mrs. Acland clasped her h hands ands loosely in her lap; they were go good od hands and ringless except for a thin gold band. “I knew the Westons; they were a sterling couple and terribly fond of the boy. Dorothy was sober-minded, and it was probably her idea that they should make you and Ross joint guardians. The Wills, I believe, were made a couple of years ago, when you were too young to think seriously about marriage, and when Ross was often heard to say that he hadn’t time for it. It’s possible that if one of you had been married at that time, your cousin  would have appoint ed t hat one as sole guardi guardian. an. As it was, s she he gave Keith t wo chances. The provis prov iso o t akes car care e of t he rest.” “But it doesn’t help me at the moment” Lou said frankly. “I have six weeks longer—only five  weeks if you count t ravell ravelling ing ttim ime e and set t ling ling in E England. ngland. I can’t just t hrow aw away ay my jjob; ob; it’s a good one a and nd I llike ike it it..” “What does R Ross oss s say ay abou aboutt t hat hat?” ?” Lou sighed. “He mocks. All any of t he local men can advise is t hat I marry out here, and st ay. ay.”” “Wellll ..... why not ?” “We

Lou st ared at t he older woman. “I di didn’ dn’tt expect t o hear tthat hat from you. you.”” “But it would si simpl mplify ify ever everyt ythin hing g t rem remendousl endously! y! Surel Surely y you’v you’ve e t hought about it?” “Not seriously. I believe in ffalli alling ng in love.” Mrs. Acland t winkled. “So do I. Why not fall in llove ove w with ith Martin Craddock?” Lou snapped her fingers. “Just like like tthat hat ?” “You could cou ld ttry ry.. He ’s a fine solid man, has a high pos posit ition ion and money. If he married you h he e ’d be only too happy to accept Keith as a son and I’m sure he’d devote himself to making you happy.” “Even if I want ed t o, I couldn’t make make him  him love me.” “Fudge. T his is Africa, where w women omen are at a premium premium.. A pret prettt y girl coul could d manage Mart in ’s slow-moving affections by crooking her little finger! Make the attempt, my dear. He’s worth it.”

 

Lou was st art artled. led. Mrs. Acland looked modern and graceful, but it was diff difficul icultt t o reconcil reconcile e her advice with her age. She said slowly, “You speak as if there’s no such thing as real love springin spri nging g up bet ween t wo people, whet her tthey hey lilike ke it or not.” “Of course there is, but a good many people are perfectly happy without it. Marriage, for a girl in your situation...” She broke off as Ross came into the room, and asked him brightly, “Isn’t it t im ime e you ttold old L Lou ou why we came dow down n here wit within hin an hour of my ar arriv rival?” al?” “No hurry for a few minutes.” He leaned against the wall. “Go on with what you were saying as I came in.” “What was I saying?” He gli glint nt ed at her her.. “You know w well ell enough. Advice tto o t he young, and all t hat . It was interesting.” Mrs. Acland’s bright eyes met his, disarmingly. “Oh, yes. I was telling Lou that she should marry Martin Craddock. He understands how she’s placed, and he’s the sort of man to be grateful for having a woman in love with him. As District Commissioner he’s highly successful, but somehow he’s missed the more human side of life, and I should say he’s the kind to need it.” Ross said, with sarcasm, “Maudie, you’re going maudlin. The man’s old enough to be her fat her her.. I have respect and admiration for Mart in but I can can’t ’t see him happi happily ly mar married ried to a couple of children. children.”” “You needn’t try,” said Lou shortly. “I won’t give up hope,” stated Mrs. Acland cheerfully. “Both Lou and the boy need someone to look after them, and Martin would be ideal.” With a wave of her hand she dismissed the subject.. “Where is Kei subject Keitt h now? I expect he’s grown quit quite e a bit since I last saw him. him.”” “He’s putting his things together in his room.” Ross turned to glance at Lou, plunged his hands deep into his pockets as he added casually, “You’re moving out this evening, little one. My new manager arrives tomorrow and as my aunt has managed to reach us in time we may as well have things straight from the start. Greg Allwyn can come here to the bungalow. You and Keith will have tthe he rooms you had before, iin n my house.” Lou’s grey eyes widened. “You mean ... we live with you?” “Wait a minute “Wait minute,” ,” said Mrs. Acland. “Do I hear correct correctly? ly? Has Mi Miss ss Prent Prentice ice alr already eady st ayed at t he hous house?” e?”

“She spent a few ho hours urs iin n one of t he rooms on her first night a att Mul Mulera, era,”” replied Ross. “Make  what you llike ike of it it..” “Don’t snap,” said his aunt. “Knowing you, I’m quite sure there’s nothing at all to be made of it. You don’t phil philander ander on your own p premi remises. ses.”” “Y o u t hin hink k your years m make ake you wise, wise,”” he cast at her her.. Then, with exaspe exasperation, ration, “T hi his s meeting meet ing seems t o be tturning urning iint nt o a free-f free-for-all. or-all. I didn’ didn’tt come here to argue.” “No, dear,” said Mrs. Acland, “but you do seem to be in an argumentative mood. Dictatorial,

 

too. I think we should have invited Lou up to the house, not told her flatly that she has to go there.” “I’m “I’m used to it .” said Lou. “Women and ffive-year-old ive-year-old boys have t o be t old, not asked. Act uall ually, y, it w would ould be bet t er if I t ook Kei Keitt h t o a hot el ..... perhaps in Zomba.” “That’s out of the question,” said Ross brusquely. “Keith stays at Mulera, so you must stay, t oo. I got my aunt here so t hat we could al alll be unde underr one ro roof of t o work tthin hings gs out out..” “I haven’t haven’t any choice t hen, have II?” ?” Mrs. Acland sa said id soft ly, ly, “You kno know, w, you ’re by no means idea ideall co-g co-guardians. uardians. R Ross oss is inflexible and you, my dear, are surprisingly stubborn. What happens when you disagree purely about the upbringing of the child?” Ross smiled, smiled, infuriatingly. “We t ake t urns at givi giving ng in. in.”” “Have you had your your turn yet ?” He laughed. "Don’t worry it sweet ie. T he girl has a quick temper. temper.”” “I hadn’t hadn’t before I cam came e here, here,”” said L Lou ou at once. “T he cl clim imat at e, e,”” he t old her her,, underst understandingly andingly.. “Y “You’l ou’lll get accust omed tto o it. Wi Willll it t ake you long to pack?” “A “An n hour or so.” “Good. I’ll come down later and have all the odds and ends that now belong to Keith put together and stored.” He paused and regarded both women with mocking expansiveness. “Let’s “Let ’s welcom welcome e aunt ie wit with h a drink, shall we?” “I’m “I’m afraid t here isn’ isn’tt any, any,”” said L Lou. ou. He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Been tippling in secret? That’s bad. Never mind, we’ll wait till this evening, at t he house. Want any help wit with h packing, Louise?” “No, t hank you. May I off offer er you ttea?” ea?” “We’ve “We ’ve had it , child. Ready, M Maud?” aud?” Mrs. Acland st stood ood up, and L Lou ou saw t hat she was quit quite e ttall all and very erect . T he older woman smiled at her, charmingly. “It will be pleasant for us up at the house,” she said. “I’m hoping the domestic atmosphere  will prod Ross into marr marrying ying tthat hat very lovel lovely y creat creature ure who’s been w wait aiting ing for him tto o forget t he plant pla nt at ation ion for lo long ng enough t o propose. You must hel help p me!” Ross rested a sli slight ght ly mal malici icious ous glance upon Lou’s face. “My aunt has marri marriage age on t he brain. It ’s anot another her of t hose t hings you’ you’llll get used t o. See you later, Loui Louise. se.””

Lou went down with them to the car. Keith came running out and renewed acquaintance  with  wit h Mr Mrs. s. Acland. He waved vi vigorously gorously as tthe he car moved away, and tturned urned exci excitt edly t o L Lou. ou.

 

“We’re going back t o Uncle Ross!” he sang out . “O “Oh, h, boy, boy, boy. boy.”” “Are you as glad as all all that t hat?” ?” “He let s me do a as s I llike, ike, so I needn’ needn’tt do any more lessons!” “Y “You’l ou’lll certainly have lessons, lessons,”” said L Lou ou fflatly. latly. “A “Att least t wo ho hours urs every mor morning. ning.”” Keith Ke ith was dashed, but not for long. His His sole reg regret ret was connect connected ed wit with h leavi leaving ng t he sand-pit. That evening Lou changed houses. Ross collected her and the child and took her to his house with most of their belongings, and after arranging her own and Keith’s clothes in drawers and wardrobes and seeing Keith int o bed, Lou spent a quiet evening wit with h Mrs. Acland. Ross, immaculate in white dinner jacket and sorting a cummerbund, went over to the District Commissioner’s house for an evening of poker. What Paula Craddock did during an all-male evening was not made cl clear. ear. Lou learned that Mrs. Acland had been a widow for many years, that she had been happiest  when she had kept house ffor or Ross in C Cambri ambridge. dge. Nowadays, she spent most of h her er t im ime e in a London flat, but t he couple of mont months hs in Nyasaland Nyasaland were tthe he climax climax of each year. She was an understanding woman and widely read; though she loved Ross more than anyone else in the world, she was not blind to his drawbacks where women were concerned. In her opinion he had one g glari laring ng fa fault ult—he —he never showe showed d his ttrue rue feelings. “Never,” she emphasized, “and he scoffs at people who do show them. That’s why you’ll have t o be very careful, my dear dear.. If you cross him he’ he’llll hur hurtt you, but you’l you’lll never know just how you penet rat rated ed his armor—or where. H He’s e’s a complex man. man.”” Lou asked carefully carefully,, “Do you t hink Mi Miss ss Craddock underst understands ands him?” “Bless you, yes. She’ She’s s made a study st udy of Ross, and she cert certainl ainly y knows him bet bettt er t han anyone else does. When Ross marries it will have to be a woman like Paula— someone who can match his type t ype of wit w it and has si simi milar lar t ast astes. es.”” Mrs. Acland was probably ri right ght , t hought Lou; she did not pursue t he subject subject.. Later, when she  went t o bed, she found herself vaguely unhappy about liliving ving in Ross Gi Gilm lmore’s ore’s house. Mrs. Acland would act as a kind of buffer, of course, but proximity to him might prove more and more exhausting. Lou slept uneasily, yet when she awoke next morning and remembered where she was, her heart gave a tremendous leap, and she smiled out of her window at a garden which smelled dear and famil familiar iar.. Absurd, of course; she couldn couldn’t ’t possibl possibly y recall t hese p part articul icular ar scent s. B But ut t he morning was brill brilliant iant and promisi promising. ng. She washed quickly, put on a pale blue and white check frock and went through to the veranda, where Ross and the pyjama-clad Keith were breakfasting. Ross bowed ceremoniously and pulled out a chair. Lou slipped down into it and thanked him, rested her elbow on the table and gazed at the trees and the misted mountains with grey eyes and glowed. “Mixed fruit?” asked Ross. “Please,” she said dreamily.

 

He helped her to it, placed the small glass dish containing guavas, chopped pineapple and papaw in front of her. Kei Keitt h spooned up cereal and stared. “A “Aren’t ren’t you going t o grumbl grumble e because II’m ’m not dressed?” he queried. “Not t his morni morning, ng,”” Lou answe answered. red. “But t omorrow you m must ust wash and dress before you come to t o breakfast , just as you have been do doing. ing.”” “I needn’t, now I’m back with Uncle Ross. He doesn’t mind.” “But I mind very much,” Lou told him. “You must do as I say.” Keitt h pout ed. “But I don’t have t o. Do II,, Uncl Kei Uncle e Ross?” Ross, who had been looking as if he had no intention of entertaining the conflict, pushed away his plate. “You may as well grow up a little,” he said. “Big boys don’t have breakfast in their pyjamas.” Keith st Keith struggl ruggled ed wit with h t he ext rem reme e of sudden fury and tthe he desi desire re tto o pleas please. e. “You never used t o say t hat ! It’s because Lou’ Lou’s s here. I know it is.” is.” Ross nodded calml calmly. y. “T hat ’s rright ight,, t here are lladies adies iin n t he house. Had enough tto o eat ?” “ Yes Yes!” !” Kei Keitt h quailed before t he sharp, greenish glance, and added, “T “Thank hank you. you.”” “Then you might go and dress now,” Ross suggested. The child stalked off, looking, with the pyjamas crumpled about his ankles, rather less grand than he hoped. Ross took some butter, grinned gri nned at t he smal smalll retreat retreating ing bac back k wit without hout speaki speaking. ng. “T hanks for the co-operat io ion!” n!” sai said dL Lou. ou. “Surprised?” “A lit lit t le. Gratef Grateful, ul, anyway. anyway.”” “Perhaps it’s it ’s a good omen. Do you lilike ke our fruit ?” “I didn didn’t ’t at fir first st,, but it grows on one. one.”” She ate some papaw papaw,, nodded t owards t he mountains. “The bungalow has good views but they don’t match this one. What made you choose Nyasaland?” “It chose me. There were forestry jobs here and I wanted the experience before launching out into planting. I did travel through Central Africa to see if there were anywhere I might like bet t er, but I came back and bought Mul Mulera. era. In scenery and fert fertililit ity y you can’t beat t his count country. ry.”” “It has grandeur,” grandeur,” she said soft ly, “and t he growt h is mi miraculous. raculous. I wonder if t he Africans here realize reali ze ho how w lucky tthey hey are?” “Mostly, t hey don’t bot “Mostly, bother her.. A roof and enough t o eat is al alll tthey hey need t o make t hem happy happy.. T he white man br brought ought t he produc productt s by which they liv live—coffee, e—coffee, t ea, t obacco obacco,, ri rice ce and cot cottt on; they’ve initiated nothing whatever themselves. You’ve probably noticed that they give in to t he heat far qui quicker cker than we do.” “It’s a way of living, I suppose.” Lou took a piece of toast and declined the bacon and

 

sausages which were w ere keeping hot in an ingenious spi spiri ritt oven which st ood on a st ool. “I sometimes think that if everyone worked only for his needs life would be extremely pleasant and uncompli uncomplicat cat ed. ed.”” “We’ve developed too far, little one,” said Ross lazily. “Besides, one’s needs are expanding

and changing all t he t im ime. e. Done much reading since you ve been here? “Nothing serious. I didn’t bring any books.” “I’ve “I’ve quit e a select ion in my room room.. I’ll ’ll look some out for you. Are you a t elevi elevision sion addict? addict?”” “No. The set we have at school is communal and you can’t choose your own programme and manage t o sit it ri right ght t hrough. I do have a radio in m my y bedroom, t hough. hough.”” He looked looked bot h amus amused ed and t houghtf houghtful. ul. “You keep the school ever-pr ever-present, esent, don’t you? Can’tt you think of iitt in t he past t ense?” Can’ “It’s “It ’s my livi living.” ng.” Ross got out cigarettes, offered them and pushed his cup across for more coffee. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” he said equably. “Here at Mulera we have space and heaps of surplus food. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t st stay ay indefinitely. indefinitely.”” Oddly, Lou ffelt elt her heart beat s quicken. She shook her head. “I “Itt wouldn’t work. IIn n any case, II’d ’d have t o go back and ffind ind a job some some t ime. ime.”” “If you discovered that work was essential,” he said, carelessly, “you could get a job here. I know of several chi children ldren who don’t go t o school si simply mply because the there re isn’ isn’tt one. one.”” “In “In t hi his s district?” “And elsewhere. The parents would build a small school with a boarding-house in a matter of weeks w eeks if t hey could find someone tto o organize and run it .” He shrugged. “It’s an idea. idea.”” She hesitated, looked at her fingers. “Are you still determined to oppose my taking Keith to England?” “I’m afraid so.” A pause. “I’ve something to tell you, Louise. I’ve written to your principal, informing informi ng her tthat hat you have tto o resign. resign.”” Lou’s hand clenched spasmodical spasmodically ly on tthe he able and she went pale. “Y “You’v ou’v e what ?” ? ” After that she was speechless for a moment. And then: “How dared you do such a thing! I’ll cancel your letter at once!” “Too late. lat e. I wrot e only a couple of days af aftt er you a arri rrived. ved. Y Your our admirabl admirable e Miss Buckl Buckland and has replied by airmail, stating that she quite understands your position and accepts your resignat resi gnat ion. It seems she has a niece wh who o will be gl glad ad of t he experience. experience.”” Lou’s mouth w was as dry, but a sudden swe sweat at dewed he herr ski skin. n. “I’ “I’ve ve never heard anyt anything hing lilike ke it in my life,” she said hoarsely. “Never!” But before she could say more he cut in smoothly, “It had to happen—you must see that. You’re You’r e t oo fond of Keith t o leave leave him flat, and as iitt was his par parent ents’ s’ wi wish sh t hat he shoul should d grow up here I can’ can’tt let him go. Not t hat I want t o. Som Someone eone had t o act act..”

 

“Wit hout saying a word to me about it? “Without it ? Mi Miss ss Buckl Buckland and will t hink II’m ’m m mad, ad, t o let someone else  write  writ e for me! You’v You’ve e gone ttoo oo far tthis his t im ime, e, Mr. Gi Gilm lmore. ore....” She stopped abruptly, gazed down myopically at a small dusty car which had swung round the drive and stopped below the veranda. She saw a man with thick, sand-colored hair and t hin good llooks, ooks, knew it was Gre Greg g All Allwyn wyn but was t oo inc incensed ensed tto o bot her. But Ross had risen and gone down the steps. He shook hands with the other man and indicated the veranda, and within a minute Gregg was there, looking down at Lou with polite interest. He appeared different; clean and fit in khaki drill and every inch the keen new manager.

“Mr. Allwyn Allwyn ... Miss Pr Prent ent ice, ice,”” Ross said. “Had breakf breakfast ast Greg?” “As a matter of fact I haven’t. I’ve been staying with some friends in Dar-es-Salaam and I’ve driven all the way since nine last night. I stopped at the river for a clean-up this morning, but my food was w as gone. gone.”” “‘Plent y of sausag “‘Plent sausages es and bacon here. H Help elp yoursel yourself. f.”” Ross seemed tto o have his t ongue in his cheek as he glanced at Lou. “Mr. Allwyn is my new manager. manager.”” And t o Greg: “Miss Pr Prent ent ice and I are young Keith Keit h West on’s guardians. We never have a dull mom moment ent .” Greg smiled, a more lively smile than the one Lou remembered. She met his glance and looked away, saw that though she had dropped her hands to her lap they were still curled tight. She could feel a tightness in her throat too, the constriction of anger against this man  who did just as he pleased about everyt everything hing and everyone. She hadn’t spoken a word of greeting to t o Gr Greg eg All Allwyn wyn but t he fact had appar apparent ently ly p passed assed unno unnott ic iced. ed. Ross was saying, “We got your house cleared out last night, just in time. Miss Prentice was down there with the boy, but my aunt arrived, so we’re all up here together for a while.” He rose. “T here were a cou couple ple of let t ers for you in my mail yest yesterday. erday. I’l’lll get t hem. hem.”” As he went into the house Greg gave Lou a half-wink and said softly, “Thanks for taking me in out of the rain; you saved my life. I kept my promise and saw a doctor. I’m a hundred per cent now. now.”” “I’m “I’m glad. You look very ffit it..” “And you look even even mor more e at t ractive than you did tthat hat nig night ht.. I’ve thought about you a lo lott .” “Have you?” She remembered something and said quickly, “Mr. Allwyn...” But Ross was back, dropping two letters beside Greg Allwyn’s plate. He sat down and put on another anot her ci cigarett garett e, and t he houseboy br brought ought fresh coffee which Ros Ross s must have order ordered. ed. Lou poured, shakily, had the pot taken from her with a paternal smile. Something that she could only think of as hate was welling up from her heart. The two men talked about coffee trees and drying grounds, about copra plantations along the Tanganyika coast Ross said that Greg could use the small lorry about the plantation, that an account in his name had already been opened at t he st ore. Gr Greg eg fini finished shed hi his s break breakfast fast t hanked tthem hem for waiting with him him.. “If I may, I’ll ’ll get along t o t he bungalow and unpack,” he said. Ross concurred. “I’ll go ahead and show you the way.” He turned to Lou. “I won’t be back till one. You might might t ell m my y aunt I’m bri bringing nging Mart Martin in and Paula for lunch. lunch.””

 

“V “Very ery well well,,” she said st iffly. “Don’t think too much, Louise,” he advised her nonchalantly. “It can be tiring and entirely  without  wit hout profit profit..” She st stayed ayed seat seated ed ttililll t hey had gone. Ross went first in tthe he est estat at e wagon, and Greg followed, followed, llooking ooking back to w wave ave as he ttook ook t he bend in tthe he driv drive. e. Almost at once the houseboy cam Almost came e out t o cle clear ar tthe he ttable able,, and L Lou ou got up and walk walked ed down into the garden. For a few minutes she moved blindly across the grass and under the orange and lemon trees. She was aware of white, heavily-scented blossom, of the lanes between the fruitt t rees an frui and d of t he hot blu blue e sky sky,, yet consc consciou iousl sly y, she tthought hought only of t he fact t hat she was no longer a member of the kindergarten staff. She had been rendered homeless and jobless by a few f ew st rokes of Ross Gil Gilmore’ more’s s pen. That was not how he regarded the matter, of course. He had seen her as a girl who needed to have decisions made for her, a vacillating creature who ought to be grateful that he had taken her in hand. But she wasn’t grateful. She was angry and frightened. It was as though she were being swept along on an iirresi rresist stibl ible e ttide. ide. Perhaps it was fortunate that Keith found her just then. Childlike, he had forgotten his

resentment at the breakfast table and was now occupied with his normal pursuits. “Are we staying with Uncle Ross for good?” he asked. “For some wee weeks, ks, darl darling. ing.”” “May I have a sand-pit t hen?” “I think so. But you must wait till Ali gets back before you mention it If you like, we’ll have a lesson while we’re walking this morning. I’ll pull some leaves and we’ll use them for arithmetic.” “Is “Is t hat sum sums?” s?” “Y “Yes. es. Here we are. Take six leaves t o beg begin in wit h, and II’l’lll have six. six....” The outdoor lesson was a success. When they entered the house an hour later Keith told Mrs. Acland about it and the older woman’s smile at Lou was congratulatory. Those fine, ast onishi onishingly ngly youth youthful-looking ful-looking hands were busy wit with h embroi embroidery dery,, but Mrs. Acland ’s pointed features were pallid. “I never go far during the first week or so at Mulera,” she said. “I’m no longer young, so I’m compelled to rest while my system makes friends with the climate. I never do get up for breakfast, by the way. You were about early, weren’t you?” “Fairly,, but Ross and K “Fairly Keith eith be beat at me tto o it . T he new manager tturned urned up. up.”” Lou passed on tthe he message about guests for lunch and added, “I still have Peter Whyte’s car. Do you think it  would be all all right for me to t ake Keith Keith out for a pi picnic?” cnic?” “If you want t o, yes. yes.”” Mrs. Acland’s bright eyes flickered tthought hought fully and she murmured, “It’s a very good idea. I’m sure Ross sees too little of Paula, and if there are only the four of us I shall be able to monopolize Martin.” Her smile was almost impish. “I’ll tell him my opinion of you and find out his. Wil Willl M Mart artin in be di disappoint sappointed ed t o find you absent ?” “Of cour course se not not..” “Well, we’ll see.” Her expression held humor. “You know, my dear, I’d have given a great deal  

to find you a little older and a good bit wiser about men. It would have been wonderful to see you pushing through my nephew’s defences and making him uncomfortably aware of his own needs. But I’m afraid your effect on him isn’t that kind at all. You rose only the protective instinct.” “I’m sorry,” said Lou, a little abruptly. “Y “You ou mustn’t mi mind nd my being out outspoken, spoken,”” Mrs. Acland ret returned urned quickly quickly.. “Y “You’re ou’re a very swe sweet et girl, and as soon as I’m used to the heat we’ll get to know each other. Run along for your sandwiches and drinks drinks.. I insi insist st t hat you enjoy life here as much a as s possible. possible.”” Half an hour later, when she was driving along a by-lane towards the river, Lou contemplated her future and found it depressing. She had no choice but to accept the step Ross had taken, but the thought of remaining at Mulera in Ross’s house was hardly to be borne. It mi might ght be ttrue rue that t he few whit white e sett ler lers s iin n tthe he di dist stri rict ct would fi finance nance the buil building ding of a small prep school and be happy to employ her, but Ross hadn’t really meant her to take the suggestion seriously; he had merely used it to lead up to his announcement that he had cut off her retreat t o Engla England. nd. She stopped near the river and Keith chanted happily. He knew, without being told, that he must not paddle. In fact , he off offered ered his own version of t he reason. “There’s snails so small that you can’t even see them,” he informed Lou. “They dig into your skin and leave germs there, and you’re you’re sick as anyt hing for mont hs. hs.”” Lou nodded. She had been lectured during her first days at the bungalow about bilharzia

and other risks. The water looked cool and inviting but it was too sluggish to be healthy. She lay back in the grass and looked across at the opposite banks, where yellow acacias bloomed and plumbago rioted with lantana in tangles of soft blue and orange. There were tall trees behind the low ones, and against the sky she could see the gnarled bent limbs of a baobab. The baobabs were monstrosities, she thought; except that they sent out a few leaves and flowers every year they might be petrified growths of a primeval era. It was strange to think of all t he growt growth h blos blossom soming ing that went on year after ear, in se secret. cret. “I want t o eat eat”” said K Keith, eith, “and I can’ can’tt wear tthis his s sililly ly ha hatt —it’s ttoo oo t igh ightt .” “Is it? We must buy you a larger one. Start off with an egg sandwich while I open a bottle of squash.” They ate a little and lazed. Lou related something from Hans Andersen which Keith proceeded to lengthen with fantastic incidents about cowboys. He climbed a low tree and grazed his knee in the descent, went drowsy in the shade and was persuaded back into the car. It was aft er ttwo wo when Lou set t he car m movi oving ng agai again. n. Sh She e felt bet bettt er, but as she near neared ed t he homestead homest ead her uneasiness ret returned. urned. Yet t here was no need ffor or it; M Mrs. rs. Acland would probably be resting and the t he house otherwise em empt pt y. Butt as she tturned Bu urned iint nt o t he dri drive ve she saw tthe he est estat ate e car unde underr a ttree, ree, and P Paula aula an and d Mar Martt in in,,  wit h Ross in at t endance, close t o Martin’s big t ourer  with ourer.. She st opped Pete Peter’s r’s car behind t he t ourer ourer,, found her door opened and Ross standing t here with a set look iin n his face t hat made her knees weak. Martin Craddock said pleasantly, “We missed you, Lou. Too bad you promised Keith a picnic before you knew w we e were coming. coming.””

 

Lou slanted a swift glance at Ross, said faintly, “Yes, wasn’t it? I suppose you’re leaving now?” Paula had not moved from the open door of the tourer, but her china-blue eyes rested unsmilingly on Lou’s slightly flustered appearance. “You must come over and see us again,” she said, acidly acidly convent ional ional.. “T “Tomorr omorrow?” ow?” “T hank you very much. much.”” Make it mid-morning. Peter will be here by then, so you can return his car, and I’ll drive you home.” Lou murmured somet hing. Keith went ind Keith indoors oors to rest in his rroom, oom, t he t wo Craddo Craddocks cks got into t he car and Mar Martt in set it in motion. Ross sai said d somet something hing and lilift ft ed a hand, gr gravel avel spurted a and nd t he t ourer di disappeared. sappeared. Lou, heat and t ension gri gripping pping her nerv nerves, es, t urned ttowards owards t he st eps. She found Ross besi beside de her, his hand tight about her elbow as he guided her into the living-room. He closed the door behind them, strode across and closed the door to the corridor, and then stood still, staring at her with a narrow-eyed intensity which held the ruthlessness of a surgeon’s probe. Lou spoke first, her tones scratchy and nervous. “I didn’t just vanish. Your aunt thought it  would be all all right for me to go.” “Your clearing out just before lunch is the least of it,” he said crisply. “I’m prepared for that sort of t hin hing g from you. What I wasn’ wasn’tt prepar prepared ed for was blatant decei deceitt ! Don’ Don’tt pretend t o wonder  what I’m t alki alking ng about about.. You know well enough!” “You ... you might explain, just the same.” “Explain! Explanations should come from you, surely?” The words were sharp little flints. “You sat out t here on tthe he verand veranda a t his m morni orning ng and greeted Greg All Allwyn wyn as if you ’d nev never er

seen him him before. It must have been a put -up job bet between ween you! Well, is was out, and in a way Lou was relieved, though she flinched from the green fury in his eyes. “Have you spoken t o Greg about it ?” “Not on your life!” he flung at her. “I either had to ignore it of kick him out at once. I decided t hat for tthe he present I’ I’d d let him tthink hink he’ he’d d got away wit with h it it.. But you ... you’re a di diff fferent erent proposition.”” His tee proposition. teett h snapped. “I’d “I’d have t rust rusted ed you, Loui Louise. se. T here are tthings hings we don’t agree about but I’d have said that however young and silly you may be, you’re honest all through. Which only shows how even someone as seasoned as I am can be deceived. He came the day of t he rain, didn’t he?” She nodded, and swallowed. “How did you find out ?” “Very easily easily.. I not iced he was wearing a new t ype of wa watt ch and mentioned ment ioned iitt . He sai said d he’d lost his old one during the storm but didn’t know where.” The white edges of his teeth were closed. “But I know where. I still have the damned thing! You let me show it to you and you didn’tt say a w didn’ word. ord.”” She threw out a hand. “You asked me if I’d seen it before; I hadn’t. He must have dropped it as he came into the bungalow. If you’d only...”

 

“T el elll me what happened that day!” “It ... ... it w was as night night—almost —almost t en o’cl o’clock ock when he arrived. He was unwell and tthought hought t he house  would be empt empt y. I suppose he imagined imagined a servant wou would ld let him iin. n.”” “Was itit after   I’d I’d ttried ried the doors?” She nodded, nodde d, and moist ened her lips. “You “Y ou see see....” “And you opened  to   to someone? Why didn’t you speak to him through a window and send him away?” “It didn’t even occur to me. The rain was tumbling down and he must have waded through mud for some time before he arrived. I opened the door, he spoke just like anyone you might meet in E Engl ngland and and I knew instinctivel instinctively y t hat he was a decent t ype. ype.”” “That might be funny if one were in the mood for it,” he said grimly. “You asked him in, gave him a drink ... maybe the whisky...” he broke off. “You even let me jest about that, yesterday!” he exclaimed. “What’s wrong with me! Why couldn’t you have come to me openly and said t hat t he ma man n tturned urned up and yo you u llet et him dry out out?” ?” By now, Lou’s private feelings were mingling with her indignation. She flared. “Greg Allwyn knows you, and t o some exte extent nt I know you, t oo. He needed rest an and d tto o recuperat recuperate, e, and when I told him he’d have to live here at the house with you he wasn’t keen to do it while he was seedy. He sim simply ply wasn’t well enough t o present hims himself elf for a new job. job.”” “T he obvi obvious ous pro procedur cedure e was t o send the servant up here tto o me!” “I wanted t o, but Gr Greg eg was muddy and went and unshaven unshaven.. I suppos suppose e he t hought a night’s rest and a thorough clean-up in the morning would have made him fit to meet you. I was a complet compl et e surpri surprise se t o him, and he had t o alt alter er his pl plans. ans.”” “Because neither of you would approach me! You dried him out and sent him away to get  wet again, and all b because.. ecause...” .” H He e st opped suddenly suddenly,, t hen asked wit with h dangerous quiet quietness. ness. “You did  send  send him away, I suppose?” Drowningly, Lou cast about for something her mind could clutch and found nothing. Despairingly, she said, “Please try to understand. Greg had been ill, and he didn’t want you to see him as he was. He’d hoped to crawl into the house and perhaps be ready to meet you some time next day. I spoiled the hope for him, and the least I could do...”

“Yes?” he prompted her, in metallic tones. “I shut him in the living-room, locked him away from the house and told him to rest there. He left at about dawn next mor morni ning; ng; when I g got ot up he was gone. gone.”” “T hat ’s fine, fine,”” said Ross. “Just fine!” “What else coul could d I do?” “You could have sent sent for me!” “Greg wouldn’t have it .”

 

His smile was tight and vicious. “I notice it’s Greg all the time. You got really friendly that night, didn’t you? And you’re the person who has charge of a five-year-old!” Lou’s eyes blazed at him. “You’re implying beastly things! There was a night when I had to st stay ay here iin n t his hou house, se, but t here was not nothin hing g wrong in tthat hat,, because yo you u were t he man, and you have little interest in women.” “T hat’s rriight!” “Greg was ill, I tell you.” “He looks surprisingly well to me, and he’s told me that he had only a very mild attack of fever early in the month. If he was sick there was all the more reason to get in touch with me. You must must have kn known own t hat hat..” T aut -voiced, s she he said, “Well, he just wasn’t t hat ill, ill, I suppose. B But ut I was sorry ffor or him. him.”” “So when he suggested stayi st aying ng t he night you gave in. in.”” “No, Mr. Gilmore! I was the one who suggested he should stay in the house. Greg would have spent the night with the junk in the garage but I wouldn’t consent to it.” She paused to t ake a deep breat h, swallowed again. “A “And nd II’l’lll tell t ell you somet hing. If I were again faced w wit ith h t he same situat ion II’d ’d act as I did tthen. hen.”” “And you’d also do your best to keep it from me, I take it!” “Y “Yes, es, I would! Y You’re ou’re tthe he most domineer domineering, ing, sarcast sarcastic ic brut brute e II’ve ’ve ever met met,, and I can’t im imagine agine any set of circumstances in which II’d ’d come to you— you—for for myself or for anyone else!” T here was a silence silence during which grey eyes clashed wit h greenish brown ones. Lou Lou wa was s rigi rigid d against the edge of the table, and she couldn’t remember moving towards it. Ross stood t here, aloof and icy, his square-hewn jaw and crisp dark hair out lilined ned against t he whit e wall. Then, without another word, he went out and down the steps. Lou heard the estate car speed round the drive much faster than it normally did and accelerate out on the track. Her limbs relaxed, but her throat was hot and painful and her eyelids stung. She hadn’t shed a t ear, but she felt as exhausted as if she had been w weepi eeping ng for hours.

  CHAPTER FIVE

The next few days were surprisingly tranquil. Lou summoned all her courage for the midmorning visit to the District Commissioner’s house, and considered herself lucky to find both

Martin and Peter Whyte there. Paula was sophisticated and smiling, and during a few moment mom ents s alo alone ne with Lou she ttook ook car care e t o mention tthat hat she and Ro Ross ss would be go going ing down to Z omba for a llong ong weekend. As she spoke tthere here was a hint of crue cruelty lty about t he selfself-in indulg dulgent ent mouth, but Lou did not try to analyze its cause; she knew instinctively that her transfer from the manager’s house to that of Ross Gilmore was unpopular with Paula. She was also beginning to realize that Paula saw everyone connected in any way with Ross as a rival; underneat h a mask of charm tthe he wo woman man even disl disliked iked Mr Mrs. s. Acland.

 

In the house, Lou was self-effacing. She helped the boy in the bedrooms, till Ali returned to his work and refused to allow it. She sat with Mrs. Acland, took Keith for walks and gave him his lessons, had breakfast alone after Ross had left the house and often took her own and Keith’s lunch into the log sun-house in the garden. She couldn’t avoid meeting Ross at dinner most evenings, but Mrs. Acland was always there, and often someone else had been invited. For quite four days she and Ross did not address each other except when it was necessary. He was arrogant and withdrawn, but occasionally she felt him watching her speculatively. Then came Saturday. At about eleven, Ross backed the big gleaming roadster from the garage and loaded a suitcase into the boot. Mrs. Acland, on hardly better terms with the heat than she had been when she arrived, called down to him from her seat beside Lou in the veranda. “Did you remember remember th the e present Ross?” “I packed itit .” he an answered. swered. “Y “You ou ought t o be going wit with h us, Maud. Maud.”” “Yes, I like like weddings,” she admit admittt ed. “But I’m hoping tthe he next one I’ I’llll att end w wililll be yours. D Did id Paula Paul a say she was t o be a bri bridesmaid desmaid at t his wedding iin nZ Zomba?” omba?” He nodded, his expressi expression on sardonic. “But I’m not best man, so don’t expect an announcement when we get back on Monday. You work at it too hard, Maudie.” He drove drove off off,, his head llift ifted ed t owards tthem hem mo momentaril mentarily y as he passed t hrough the gat gateway eway.. Mrs. Acland sprinkl sprinkled ed t alc over her hands and t ook up h her er embroi embroidery. dery. “It “It must be t ryi rying ng t o get mar marri ried ed in tthi his s cli climate, mate,”” she comm comment ented, ed, “but t hen t he young don’t suffer much from heat and humidity, do they? When did you last attend a wedding, Lou?” Lou answered soft ly, ly, “It w was as Dorothy West on’s, when I was sixt een. I was he herr only bridesmaid.” “And too young young to at t rac ractt t he b best est man? man?”” “He was married, but I was partnered by his young cousin.” The young cousin was Arnold Maskell, who now thought she should back out of her guardianship of Keith. “My brother was married marri ed at his wife’s hom home e ..in in tthe he nort h of England and I wasn’t able tto o be t here. here.”” “Haven’t any of your girl girl-f -friends riends m marri arried?” ed?” “I don’t don’t know. L Livi iving ng at t he school, I was cut off from t hem. My col colleagues leagues were older. older.”” “How did you spend your leisur leisure e hours?” Lou considered considered t his. “I di didn’t dn’t have many, except on Sundays, and even t hen I had tto o t ake my t urn at mar marchi ching ng t he few boarders to church. In t he winter I u used sed tto o manag manage e t o at t end a pla play y or a concert about once a month, and in the summer there were tennis and swimming. I kept up  wit h a few famil family y fri friends, ends, but I reall really y hadn’t much ttim ime e for th them. em. Life was amazingly full. full.”” “A “And nd now now?” ?” q queried ueried Mr Mrs. s. Acland in her kindl kindly y t ones. Lou picked up the sock she was knitting. “At the bungalow I was always busy. There’s not so much to t o do here. here.””

 

“What would you llik ike e t o do?” Lou hesitated. “Some serious reading. And just occasionally I’d like to be able to forget why I’m here, t hough I don’t t hink tthat hat ’s possibl possible ew whil hile e I llive ive at Muler Mulera. a. R Ross oss resent s me t oo much. much.”” Mrs. Acland looked up from her work, a lilitt t le sta start rtled. led. “Do you reall really y feel t hat ?” She hadn’t protested that there was no need to feel it, Lou noticed; only voiced the stark quest ion. “T o me it it’s ’s obvi obvious, ous,”” she answered, “and I suppose I resent him him,, t oo. He doesn’t have any feelings himsel himselff and doesn’t care whet her ot other her people have tthem hem or not not.. I shouldn’ shouldn’tt reall really y speak to you like this, Mrs. Acland, but you did ask.” “My dear, I like your frankness. Life can be so difficult if you keep everything to yourself, and besides, I may be able to help in some way way.. You know know,, it ’s occurr occurred ed t o me tthat hat t wo w women omen or two men would have made friendlier co-guardians than one of each sex. A man like Ross has to conquer a woman, and that sort of compulsion destroys the calm find serenity of ordinary friendship. I’m awful afraid,” she ended regretfully, “that one of you will have to give up Keith quite quit e soon. soon.”” Patently, she didn’t think it would be Ross. Lou knitted and the silence grew, a little obvious at first and t hen companionable. Mrs. Acland was an ideal part partner ner in qui quiet et ude. Just before one o’clock Keith staggered along the veranda looking hot and dishevelled. He showed reddened hands with pride. “A “Alili showed me and a t ot o how t o dig a sand-pit sand-pit,,” he explained. “I worked and worked.” “A “And nd you’ve done mor more e t han enough, enough,”” said L Lou ou flat ly. “I t hought you were only wat ching. ching.”” Keit h sighed. “Uncle Ross sai Keit said d I must must use a t rowel and do some of t he digging. He said I must enjoy things I do for myself—not always have fun with...” He cast about in his memory. “Uncle Ross said said I must mustn’t n’t sit and let ot hers make m my y fun. fun.”” “On t he ot other her han hand, d,”” said L Lou, ou, “you don’t want t o be ttoo oo st stiff iff and ttir ired ed tto o pl play ay iin n t he pi pitt when it’s it ’s fini finished. shed. Aft er llunch unch you’re goi going ng st raight t o bed t ililll four. four.”” Keith sauntered away to wash, came back to look with disfavor on the salad of tomatoes, carrots, carrot s, beans and sliced eggs which Ali was serving on tthe he wicker ttable. able. T he chi child ld was iin n bed and Lou had cha changed nged in intt o a green and white gla glazed zed cott on when Greg Allwyn’s small car stopped at the foot of the steps. The good-looking Greg came up into the porch with loose-jointed ease and half-bowed to the two women. He looked relaxed and brown and rat her experi experienced, enced, but was as slim as ever. Mrs. Acland greeted him warmly. “It’s Saturday for you too, of course. Have you met many people in Chekwe?” “A few, some of them very pleasant.” He looked at Lou’s bent head. “I have an invitation to spend the afternoon and evening at a house party, and I wondered if Miss Prentice would take pity pit y on me and go al along?” ong?” Lou looked looked up. “You don’t appear t o be in need o off pit y, my friend. friend.”” “But I am. I shan’t know a soul except the chap who invited me, and he said that I’d be more

 

 welcome ifif I could br bring ing a woman. I t old hi him, m, caut iousl iously, y, t hat I mi might ght , and he was ent enthusiastic. husiastic.”” Mrs. Acland nodded. “They’re like that out here; the men see too much of one another. Go

 wit h hi him, m, Lou. You were saying you’d like like tto o forget why you’re here, and here’ here’s s your chance!” “But I can’ can’tt lea leave ve K Keith eith ffor or tthe he rest of t he day. day.”” “Nonsense! He’s used t o his own company company,, and Ali and I will be here. He goes t o bed at sixt hirty, so we’l we’lll only have tto o wat ch him for a couple of ho hours urs or so. “Do go Lou. Lou.”” Lou medit meditat at ed. “Are you quit e sure you don’t mind bei being ng left alone?” “Absolutely. I shall indulge myself and have supper in bed.” She gave Greg a long inquisitive stare, and remarked, “He’s nearer your age than Martin Craddock. Why aren’t you married, Mr. Allwyn?” Greg laughed. “Two or three reasons, but chiefly because I haven’t met the right girl—before coming to t o Muler Mulera, a, t hat is.” is.” “A “Ah, h, I like like t hat quali qualificat ficat ion. Well Well,, go along, y you ou t wo, and have a happy t im ime!” e!” Lou and Greg Allwyn were speeding along the track towards the main road before either spoke. But both were smiling, and Lou was conscious of a sensation she hadn’t known before at Mulera. So this was freedom! She drew a deep breath and turned towards Greg. “I like like surprises. T Thank hank you.” He met her glance for a second. “I knew Ross G Gililmore more was out of t he way and t ook a chance. I’ve been hoping t o nm int into o you all tthe he we week. ek.”” Lou smiled and made no comment. She looked out at the coffee trees and at the low mountain they t hey were appr approachi oaching. ng. T he aft ernoon sun ca cast st angul angular ar shadows iin n t he folds of t he hil hills ls and gi gilded lded tthe he eminences. T he dark-leaved coffee coff ee t rees llooked ooked varnished and stat ic. Greg said, said, “Y “You’re ou’re not t oo jol jolly ly at t he homest homestead, ead, are you?” “Myself? I’m as happy as one can be, in the circumstances. I’m growing fond of Mrs. Acland.” “She’s rather one-track, isn’t she?” Lou nodded. “But she’ she’s s ni nice ce with it it.. It must be w wonderful onderful t o know exact exactly ly what one want s for ot her peopl people, e, and t o hel help p t hem to get it.” it.” He grinned. grinned. “What does she wan wantt for Ross Gi Gilm lmore— ore— tthe he blonde Paul Paula?” a?” Lou looked looked at him qui quickly. ckly. “You’ve “Y ou’ve lear learned ned a good deal rat rather her soon. Who t old you?” “Mart in C Craddock, raddock, as a mat mattt er of fact He’ He’s s very keen for th the e marr marriage. iage.”” Lou recalled that Martin had also mentioned it to her at their first meeting. “You’re a man,” she said. “What ’s the normal mal male e react reaction ion tto o Paul Paula a Craddock?” He was st ill ill smi smililing ng but looked wary. “My react ion wasn’t exact ly norm normal. al. I’d already met you. you.”” “I’m serious,” serious,” she said.  

  “So am I. If I’d met Paula first she might have rocked me back on my heels. As things were, I merely mer ely refl reflect ected ed tthat hat she was som some e lo looker oker a and nd le left ft it at t hat hat..” After a moment, Lou said, “Ah, well, they say you get the partner you deserve in life. Though frankly, I don’t beli believe eve it it..” She w waved aved at t he hill hills. s. “Do people live up tthere?” here?” He nodded. “But I thought we wouldn’t go straight to the house party. In fact, we needn’t t urn up t here till cocktail time. How about havi having ng t ea at t he Vima H Hot ot el el,, near tthe he L Lake?” ake?”

“Sounds lovely. Tell me about yourself, Greg.” He did, in a drawl which might have been calculated to hide a few facts. His parents had parted when he was fourteen and he had remained with his mother till she married again, just aft er hi his s ttwent went y-first birthday birthday.. Aft er that he had tried to set t le iint nt o a jo job b but final finally ly deci decided ded he could do it better abroad. So he had come to Nyasaland and stayed here. They were coming down towards one of the bays. The road wound between rocky hills  which gave way t o groups of eucalypt eucalyptus us which must have bee been n plant planted ed by man at some ttim ime. e. Then came scrub-covered dunes, the inevitable tall palms and the stretch of pale gold beach. The Lake was a vivid blue-green, and a couple of lake-side dug-out canoes, each manned by eight Africans, were skimming gently between the reeds near the shore. “The water’s calm today—not even a mild swell,” Lou commented. “It must be the beaches t hat make tthe he L Lake ake look so m much uch lilike ke tthe he sea. sea.”” “We get heft y waves occasionall occasionally y,” said Greg, as he pull pulled ed in under a t ree. “In st stormy ormy  weat her th the eL Lake’s ake’s t reacherous. Wait t ill ill we have a rreal eal wi wind. nd.”” “How long shall I have to wait?” she asked lightly, as she sat forward to watch the tiny  waves. “We don’t get many during the dry season, but just as it’s ending the elements get really t ough wit h each ot her her.. Any t im ime e of t he year you ’ll ’ll see rol rollers lers and pl plent ent y of ffoam. oam. Lower dow down, n,  where it’s rocky rocky,, t he spray is flung t went y feet int into o t he air and t he st storms orms are quit quite e a spectacle.” Lou imagined imagined them. “T he real glor glory y of t he Lake, of course, iis s t he mount ains ttowering owering in every direction. Ross once said...” she broke off. “Well, what did he say?” “It was nothing. We were talking about the mountains and he said that one day he’d show me a sunrise. He said you go out in the early morning darkness and find a spot that faces east across acros s t he Lak Lake. e. T hen t he sun comes up behi behind nd t he mountains and t he La Lake ke t urns from opa opall t o sil silver ver and tthe he wat er goes tthrough hrough ev every ery shade of blu blue e t here iis. s.”” “You’d lik like e tto o see that ?” “It’s something you miss unless you make the effort. But Ross mentioned it in the early days. We’re not friendly now. now.”” Greg leaned on the wheel and gazed at her. “Good lord. How do you get along in the house, then?”

 

“We don’t see a lot of each ot her, her,”” Lou answered offhandedl offhandedly. y. “What does Mr Mrs. s. Aclan Acland d say about it?” “She’s either blind to it or it strikes her as natural.” Again Lou sought a new topic. “Are you sure it wil w illl be al alll rright ight if we arri arrive ve late at t his house party?” Greg leaned leaned back. “I “I’m ’m too nosey, aren’t I? T hat ’s tthe he devil of it. II’ve ’ve never cared a about bout a girl’ girl’s s background before in my life. You certainly did something to me that night you took pity on me.” “Don’t be absurd. I seemed ext ra kind because you were low in healt h and spiri spiritt ; anyone wh who o helped you then would have earned your gratitude.” “It isn’t gratitude, I’m afraid. But leave it for now.” He pushed the starter. “Let’s find the hotel and have tea.” They skirted the Lake till another mountain loomed, drove about a mile up a

steep gradient and came to a long building that sat in the sun and looked down over a slope of grass and boulders to an expanse of the Lake. They had tea on the grass under a flame tree, listened to the lazy drone of insects, the washing of the water over stones, the distant hum of a steamer. The hotel slept; had not some of the balcony rails been festooned with bathin bat hing g gear one mi might ght have assum assumed ed it was empty. Soon after five they took to the road again, found a lane which led to the white thatched dwelling of the couple who were giving the party. They were welcomed and given drinks, drawn into a circle of government officials and settlers. When Lou parted from Greg that night, at about eleven-thirty, she told him, truthfully, that t he day had been one of her best since com coming ing to Mulera. Mulera.”” “It’s been my best in years,” years,” he repli replied, ed, “and I t hink we’d bet bettt er repeat t he medici medicine ne fairly oft en. How about doi doing ng t hat earl early y mor morning ning trip with me t omor omorrow?” row?” “You mean to watch the sunrise?” Sternly, Lou ignored the hollow regret that Ross had never invit invit ed her t o do it wit with h him. She shook her head. “I shan’t want t o get up early tomorrow. Perhaps some other day, Greg.” “I’ll keep you to that.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to her cheek, did it as carefully as if he were w ere well aware t hat wit h such as Lou one t rod gent ly. “Some day II’l’lll ki kiss ss you properly,” properly,” he said. sa id. “Goo “Goodnight dnight , Lou. Lou.”” She answered answered hi him m and went quie quiett ly iint nto o t he house. A few days later, as she was helping Ali to set the table for lunch, Lou heard a car on the drive. Nothing unusual in that; in fact, her nerves tightened against Ross’ appearing in the doorway and her chin tilted defensively as steps became audible in the veranda. But it sounded as if t here were t wo people, and Lou rel relaxed axed sli slight ght ly. T hen a woman’s rat rather her smoky voice said, ‘Ten shil shillilings? ngs? No, you needn’t wait .” The main door stood opened, and beyond the wire fly-screen stood a woman in dark blue linen linen wit with h whit white e at t he t hroat. A navy straw cap hid most of her hair hair,, which was red-brown and lack-lustre, lack-lust re, and she carried a furled sunshade. S She he looked lilike ke someone who had just ret returned urned from shopping in a tropical town. t own. B Behind ehind her, an ancient car rat rattt led away.

 

Ali sprang forward and pushed open the wire screen. The woman smiled automatically and came into the room, stood there looking about her. She was tallish and painfully thin, though she looked physically strong. Her features would have been pretty on a twenty-year-old, but at thirty or more the attractions of a pert nose and a girlish mouth are definitely on the wane. Yet there were potential good looks and grace on her features, and her smile, though perfunct ory and convent ional ional,, st irred irred memor memories. ies. Lou said suddenly, ‘You’re Dick’s sister, aren’t you! Elinor Weston?” T he ot her lilift ft ed t hi hin n brown eyebrows. “How sweet t o be known. II’m ’m a afrai fraid d I can’ can’tt return t he compliment.” “I’m Lou Prentice—Dorothy’s cousin. I was very young when you left England, so you won’t remember me.” Elinor Weston shook her head. “No, I don’t but I know your name, of course. You are one of the child’s guardians.” She turned to Ali with the aplomb of a woman who has lived for a long t im ime e among tthe he dark ser servants. vants. “Y “You ou can leave my sui suitt case over tthere here against t he wall. Bri Bring ng me some iice ce wat er, will you?” “I should have offered you something,” said Lou hastily. “You’ve come in time to have lunch  wit h us, anyway. Real Really ly ... you’re a great surprise. surprise.””

“Yes, I suppose I am.” She dropped her sunshade on to a chair, pulled off the straw hat and tossed it on to a side table. “I came as far as I could by rail, then got a lift to Chekwe with an education officer and his wife. From there, I managed to hire a sort of taxi.” She sand down on to a dining-chair, took a glass of ice water from the servant and once more cast a glance about t he modern, comfort comfortably ably furnished room. “T his place bel belongs ongs tto o tthe he ot other her guardi guardian, an, doesn’t it?” As if it were a cue, Ross strode into the room from the porch. He stopped and stared for a second, summoned oned t he charm charming ing sm smilile e and indi indicat cated ed t o Lou wi witt h a glance tthat hat she had bet t er effect ansumm introduction. A little bewildered, Lou said, “This is Mr. Gilmore. Ross, Miss Weston has just arrived. Dick  was her brother.” Ross, of course, took it in at once. He bowed and said suavely, “How do you do, Miss West on. Kei Keitt h will be overjoyed to meet his aunt aunt..” “So you’re the two guardians,” stated Miss Weston. She sipped, and looked from one to the other with slanting brown eyes. “Are you both unmarried?” “Yes,” said Lou quickly. “Are you going to marry each other?” “No!” Ross shrugged, but his eyes were keen as he asked, “Does it matter? Keith will be well looked aft er whil while e he needs it.” She drained drained t he glass, clinked clinked t oget her t he remains of t he dissolvi dissolving ng ice cubes. “I’ “I’m m not very

 

 welcome, am II?” ?” “Of course you’re welcome,” said Ross, more roughly than was his habit. “When you’ve met Keith and had some lunch we’ll all be friendly. Like a strong drink?” Her eyelids flickered and she drew in her lip. “No, thank you. I don’t take it these days. I’m ... I’m sorry iiff I was a litt le abrupt. I hadn’t enough cash t o t ravel by ai airr, so it ’s ttaken aken me weeks t o get here from the East Arriving and finding you both here is something of an anti-climax for me. You must forgive me if I don’t appear very bright.” Ross shot a swift look at Lou. Then he half-bowed to the visitor. “Take your time, Miss Weston. Excuse me while I have a wash. I’ll find Keith and send him to you.” Unnecessarily,, Lou straight Unnecessarily st raight ened t he cut cutlery lery on tthe he ttable. able. Ali had alr already eady set t he fift h place and somehow managed to keep the table from looking crowded, but she felt the small bowl of gardenia buds would be safer elsewhere. She moved it to the side table, glanced involuntarily at t he woma woman n who sat t here wat chi ching ng her mov movements. ements. “I suppose you’ve been in touch with the solicitor?” she asked conversationally. Elinor Elinor West on nodded. ‘‘I ‘‘I saw him in Z Zomba omba t his mor morning, ning, but he hadn’t much tto o t ell ell— — couldn’t help me at all all”” ‘‘Di ‘‘Did d you need somet hing from him?” The other woman ran long pale fingers through hair which had once been rich and abundant —was this faded cap of hair the result of an illness or of long years in the tropics? Lou  wondered. “I needed some information,” information,” Miss West Weston on answe answered. red. “I came a llong ong w way ay for it .”

“Y “You ou said th the e Far East East..” A nod. “I was managing a small hotel in Hong Kong.” Light Light s came int o Lou’s eyes. “Really “Really? ? You You’ve ’ve been t ravell ravelling ing for a good many yea years, rs, haven’t you?” “A “And nd always working where I coul could d lilive ve in, in,”” came t he dull-t oned reply reply.. “I “Itt ’s tthe he only way w when hen you’re a woman alone. Have you a cigar cigaret et t e?” Hastily, Lou supplied a box and struck a match. As she held the flame to the cigarette tip she saw a close-up of t he woman’s face; it was dry and crinkl crinkling ing faintly faint ly and her eyel eyelids ids were a drab brown. Yet somehow, Lou was certain Elinor Weston could be no more than thirty-two. It seemed incredible that so much could happen to a face in eight or ten years. She said bright bright ly, “Y “You ou must have had a fascinat ing lilife.” fe.” “Yes, fascinating.” The echo was flat with disillusionment, but Elinor looked up and scanned Lou’s Lou’ s feat ures. “A “Are re you shy?” “Sometimes.” “Would you lik like e t o be cert certain ain of sel self-assurance f-assurance iin n t he fut ure?”

 

“I think t hink so. It would cert ainl ainly y be a help!” “Then fall in love and stay there. There’s nothing like a happy love match to give a woman self-assurance. I know w what hat I’m talking about , because it it’s ’s tthe he one t hing II’ve ’ve mi missed. ssed.”” How did one answer this kind of statement, Lou queried in her mind. But she was spared the problem,, for Keith lounged in, wearing his hands in his pocket problem pockets s in tthe he best Uncl Uncle e Ross st style. yle. He looked at Elinor Elinor with mi mild ld curi curiosit osity. y. “A “Are re you my aunt ?” Elinor Elinor had gone pale, but she made no movement t owards him. “Y “Yes, es,”” she said. “A “Aunt unt ie E Elilinor. nor. Have you heard about me?” “I don’t remember. Have you come from England?” “I did did once. Is t hat where you want t o go?” He shook his head. “I want t o st ay here wit with h Uncl Uncle e Ross and L Lou. ou. Are Are you  you goi  going ng tto o stay?” Ross came in, negligently. “Your aunt can stay as long as she likes. I’ll sleep on the veranda and she can have my room.” “I want t o slee sleep p on t he verand verandah!” ah!” excl exclaim aimed ed Kei Keitt h. “A “Allll right right,, you may t ry it wit h me. But I’ll ’ll kick you indoors iiff you snore. snore.”” Keith giggled. “I’ll take my gun with me in case a lion comes in the night. Bang, bang,” he ended blithely and, quite unperturbed by the stranger’s arrival, he went over to examine the luncheon table. Mrs. Acland came in and was introduced to Miss Weston. Patently, the older woman considered the newcomer merely a visitor who held no threat to herself or to anyone she cared for. In any case, Aunt Maud was st ill ill to some ext extent ent a victim of t he cli climat mate; e; she had no urge for excitt ement or uncer exci uncertt ain aintt y. But Lou remained uneasy. She watched Elinor pick at pressed tongue and salad, refuse everytt hing el every else se but coffee and put on anot another her ci cigarett garett e. And she was aware of Ros Ross s exerting

himself just a litt le, t o charm Mi himself Miss ss West Weston on int into o a conf confidi iding ng mood. H He e only used his charm when he want ed something, t hought Lou unjus unjustt ly. ly. The meal ended and Mrs. Acland went off to rest, taking Keith with her. Ross indicated near t he french door and saw tthe he t wo women seat seated. ed. He llit it st ililll another cigaret cigarettt e for El Elino inorr Weston, and t his time L Lou ou also acce accept pted ed one. He snapped off t he light light er er,, blew smoke. “Y “You’l ou’lll lilike ke it here, M i s s West Weston, on,”” he said conversational conversat ionally. ly. “It’ll be rest restful ful aft er Hong Kong. Kong.”” Elinor Elinor nodded. “I’ “I’ve ve been t hinki hinking ng t hat , but I doubt if I’l I’lll be able t o st ay long in Nyasaland. I’m afraid af raid I spend as I go. go.”” “We’ll be happy t o have you as a guest for as long as you lilike. ke.”” She glanced at him obl obliquel iquely. y. “Did my brot brother her own a house?”

 

“No. He He lived on t his propert property. y.”” “But ... but he wasn’t badly off? Neith Neither er he nor D Dorot orothy hy were wast eful. eful.”” “Actually, he left money and goods worth about three thousand. We cashed nearly everything everyt hing and had it invest invested ed in K Keith eith’s ’s nam name. e.”” “And you draw on it for the child’s expenses?” Ross tapped away ash and said carelessly, “As a matter of fact, we don’t. He lives here and his needs are few. We’re hoping to present him with the three thousand plus accrued interest  when he’s eight eight een or tw twent ent y-one.” “Y “You ou mean you’l you’lll bri bring ng him up at your own expense—you and Lou Prent Prentice?” ice?” Before Lou could speak, Ross said suavely, “Financially, Louise isn’t committed. Dick worked for me and it ’s ri right ght t hat I should do all I can fo forr his son. son.”” Elinor Weston inspected the tip of her cigarette, and the darkish eyelids made her look older and rather hopeless when they were lowered. She looked up, briefly at Lou and then for some seconds at Ross. Badly Badl y she said, “I cam came e here t o beg you t o let me have Kei Keitt h. I haven’t anyone else—he’s my next of kin and I do have a sort of right to him. I couldn’t afford to give him as much as you can, but I bear the same name and I’m related. I’ve been hoping you’d give him up without argument. I want him very much.” Ross shot a sil silencing encing llook ook at Lou, t ook a pull at h his is ci cigaret garettt e and asked evenly, “How long is it since you last last saw your brot brother, her, Mi Miss ss West Weston?” on?” She shrugged. “Eight years, but we corresponded.” “Did you? All we fo found und was a post card sent t o Di Dick ck si six x mont months hs ago. ago.”” “That was how we kept in touch. He wrote me quite long letters. I still have several of them.” She squashed out her cigarette and sat back with her head against the chair. “I suppose you’ve heard that I was a litt le wil wild d when I was young?” “Y “Yes, es, but so was I,” said Ross. “I don’t somehow think you’d have done what I did. It wasn’t nice ... but I’ve paid for it. Now, I’m beginning to feel I need an anchor, I used t o t ell mysel myselff t hat I’ I’d d come here t o Dick and make m my y home somewhere near him. I might have run farm accounts, perhaps I could have belatedly st started arted some kin kind d of social life. life. T he way t hin hings gs are now now,, t hat ’s out of t he quest question ion.. Bu Butt t here’ here’s s

still Keith. I do need someone I can lose myself in. Just faintly her voice trembled. Surely you realize I have first claim on him?” Before Ross could stop her, Lou said impulsively, “You do have a claim, of course. I’m certain that if Dick and Dorothy had known you were willing they’d have named you as a guardian ... but not t he sole guar guardia dian. n.”” ‘‘True enough,” admitted Elinor. “I.”haven’t shown much stability and Dick had all the integrity t hat coul could d be expected of any man man.

 

Surprisingly Surprisi ngly,, Ross st stood ood up. H He e fflilicked cked his cigarett e int into o t he garden and said pleasantly, “We can discuss this at our leisure, some other time. I suggest you have a restful afternoon, Miss Weston, and give up thinking about it for a while. I’m afraid I have to get back to the sheds;  we’re making making some al altt ernat ernations. ions. Excuse me?” Resolut ely Resolut ely,, Lou kept her glance avert averted ed ffrom rom hi his, s, t hereby refusing t o receive his warning. She  would talk t alk t o E Elilinor nor Weston how she pleased! But Ross hel held d a sm small all card iin n his sleeve. “I brought brought some mai maill for you and left it in tthe he car. You might come along and get it, L Louise. ouise.”” She had no choice. Elinor Weston reached for the box of cigarettes in her bag, and after a second’s hesitation Lou walked out with Ross into the veranda and down the steps to where the car was parked in the shade of a tree. He stopped with a hand on the door, took a letter from his pocket “What do you know know,,” he said poli politt ely. “I had your mai maill on me all t he t im ime. e.”” She looked briefly at the writing, lifted her gaze to his. “What are you going to do about Dick’s sister?” “Nothing at all, for a few days. And advise you to be cautious. She has a queer look, and I  wouldn’t t rust her.” “T hat ’s horr horrid. id. I’d say she’s had a beast ly ttim ime e since she left Engl England. and.”” “Apparent ly s “Apparently she he begged for iitt lit lit t le one one.. On t he whole, you do get what you ask for iin n t his llife. ife. Do me a favor—don’ favor—don’tt t alk ab about out Kei Keitt h wit with h her when II’m ’m not t here. here.”” “How can I refuse, refuse, if she want s t o t alk abo about ut him him?” ?” His eyes narrowed, took a merciless slant. “You’re pretty good at skating over thin ice with me; t ry iitt wit h El Elinor inor West on. on.”” He nodded down at t he let lettt er in her hand. “Man’s writing. I expect he’s get gettt ing im impat patien ientt . Perhaps it was Elinor’s unexpected arrival and the complications it presented which made Lou unwary. “Y “You ou mean Arnold?” she said. And t hen colored hot hotly. ly. “Is “Is that t hat his n name? ame? D Does oes he want t o mar marry ry you you?” ?” Embarr Em barrassm assment ent made her defiant. “As a mat t er of fact he does!” “T hat makes ttwo wo of t hem, doesn’t it?” it ?” he said casuall casually. y. “Is he anyt hing llike ike G Greg?” reg?” “Nothing “Not hing at all!” all!” “A “Allll right, al alll right right , t here’s no need t o snap. B By y t he way, I wouldn wouldn’t ’t encourage Greg t oo much if I were you. Unless,” with a tight anile, “you’re falling for the man.” A pause. “Could that be happening?” “It “It coul could, d, but it isn’ isn’tt !” “But you do like him,” he supplied, “just as you like Martin Craddock and one or two others.

You seem to be one of these people who have an infinite capacity for friendship.”

 

“There’s nothing to sneer at in that,” she returned quickly. “It’s much pleasanter to like people peopl e t han tto o be consci conscious ous onl only y of t heir faults!” “But at your age, age,”” he suggest ed w with ith a t race of sharpness, “you should have lear learned ned discrimination. Greg knows forestry and the country but he’s sick to death of himself. You  wouldn’t see t hat but it’s t rue. H He e kids himsel himselff t hat you don’t see him as a phil philandering andering t ype gone a litt le aci acid. d. He tthinks hinks you see him as t he man he’d llike ike tto o be. be.”” “T hat hat’s ’s n not ot a bad t hin hing, g, surel surely?” y?” “For him, or fo forr you?” She sighed vexedly. “You and I don’t even talk the same language. It’s too bad that we should shoul d be t hrown t oget ogether her llik ike e t his his..” He studied st udied her. “Do you hat e liv living ing in my house?” “Let’s say I’d much rather live elsewhere.” She looked down at the letter which was crumpled bet ween her ffingers. ingers. “Will you t hink over som somet et hing ifif I ask you to? to?”” “I might might ,” was h his is guarded reply. “Well, will you consider letting me go with Elinor Weston and Keith to Zomba, for just a week or two? t wo? Don’t a answer nswer now,” hast hastilily. y. “T hink iitt over and let me know.” His lip drew in; he opened the car door. “Very well, young Louise, I’ll think it over. Go indoors and rest . See you lat later. er.”” He was a master of honeyed but abrupt dismissal, she reflected despondently as she returned to the living-room. Others seemed not to mind it but she, Lou Prentice, was finding it more mor e and mor more e diffic difficult ult t o t ake. From the dept hs of her heart she hoped he would cons consent ent t o her taking Keith Keith ffor or a shor shortt break to Z omba omba.. Elinor Weston had not shifted from her position. Lying there, with her eyes half-closed, she looked almost frail, and as Lou examined the woman’s profile and saw the one or two grey hairs among among t he reddish strands at her ttemple, emple, she knew a fflash lash of pit pity y. El Elinor inor m must ust have been a ravishi ravishingl ngly y pret prettt y gir girl, l, but some somehow how she had w wast asted ed her prett ine iness ss and yout youth h and now she  was old at just over t hirty, alone and, unwant ed. The woman lifted those dark heavy lids and Lou’s heart turned. Elinor Weston’s eyes were deep and liquid, liquid, t hey seemed t o be all pupil pupil.. “If you’d like to lie down,” Lou said swiftly, “you may use my room. I’d like you to.” The older woman shook her head. “I’m used to heat. Sit down, Lou. I’ve been remembering. You lost your parents when you were young, didn’t you?” “Y “Yes, es, and t hen I llived ived wit with h Dorot Dorothy’s hy’s people. people.”” “Do you remember anything about me?” “V “Vaguely. aguely. Doroth Dorothy y used t o wish you’d come home. home.”” Elinor moistened lips which had lost most of their lipstick. “My family wouldn’t have it. Dick

 

might have, but t he ot might others— hers—Mother Mother and Father Father,, t he aunt and uncl uncle, e, never wanted t o see me again. agai n. I was t went y-four y-four,, and t hey hoofed me out as t he Victorians us used ed t o expel a son when he disgraced himself. himself. I got a job in IItt aly aly,, and t hen in Aden. T hen I went t o Singapore.” She gave a short unhappy laugh. “I al almost most got marr married ied iin n Si Singapore, ngapore, but I decided tto o be honest . I t old tthe he man why I left Eng Englan land d and he was shocked tto o t he core core.. Aft er tthat hat ,” with a gest gesture, ure, “I took care never to get ge t close enough tto o a man for even a goodnight kiss.” kiss.” “Was it long ago—your llove ove aff affair?” air?” “About t en mon montt hs. hs.”” “And it was ... very real?” “Very real,” real,” came t he answ answer er in flat dry t ones. “I lleft eft Si Singapore ngapore at once, t ri ried ed a job iin n a shipping agency in Penang before ending up as manageress of a tiny hotel in Hong Kong. Been around, aroun d, you see see..” “But you never have been happ happy y about it?” “I’m “I’m afraid not , t hough I’ I’ve ve learned a great deal—chi deal—chiefly efly t hat love iis s a t erri errible ble ri risk. sk.”” “Yet al almost most t he firs firstt t hi hing ng you ttold old m me e was t hat a lov love e affair gi gives ves a woman se self-assur lf-assurance. ance.”” “So it does—so long as you don’t get too involved ... or so long as you’re involved only in young love and a tender marriage.” She changed the topic. “Keith seems a nice child. Do you have any difficulties over him with Mr. Gilmore?” “A few. Ross Ross doesn ’t beli believe eve in gent le repri reprimand mand and he scof scoffs fs at chil child d psychology psychology.. We don don’t ’t clash in in front of Keit Keith. h.”” There was a silence. Then Elinor said, “You know, on the way here I was determined not to think too closely about anything. At the back of my mind though, there was the hope that no one here would know much about me, but the first person I met here at Mulera happened to be you, so once again I have to be fairly honest and perhaps lose something I need. So if I seem t o disl dislike ike you rat rather her as t im ime e goes by, you’ you’llll know w why. hy.”” “But there’s no need for dislike!” Lou exclaimed. “I do understand how you’re placed, and I  want t o do the right t hing, bot h for you and for Kei Keitt h. h.”” Elinor’s peculiar brown eyes had ived over. “Why should you do anything for me? All you know about me iis s bad. bad.”” “I know know not hing—only what you’ve told me yoursel yourself. f. I t hink you must be t ired out w wit ith h liliving ving iin n t he East East,, and t hat ...” Elinor’ Elinor’s s brief laugh was discordant discordant.. “You and Ross Gi Gilm lmore ore are against me—I felt it. You tthink hink I want custody of Ke Keith ith because of his mo money ney,, but t hat ’s not t rue. I coul couldn’t dn’t af afford ford t o keep Keith myself, but I could take care of him far better than you two people who are enemies!” “Enemies!” Lou echoed blankl blankly. y. Elinor’s expression was knowledgeable. “The man considers you a nuisance, and you’re aware of it, and resent it I don’t blame you—but as the child’s guardians you two are t horoughly incompatible. incompatible.””

 

Lou shivered. It was like having one’s heart drawn out and examined. She turned to the door and would have gone to her room had not a car drawn up beyond the screen door and Martin Craddock Cr addock cam came e st ridin riding g up t he st eps. She crossed to open the screen, smiled automatically at the big placid man whose smile asked if he might come in. She stood aside so that he could enter, made the introduction.

Martin gave his usual courteous greeting, added, “You must come over and have tea with my sister and me, Mi Miss ss West Weston. on. We’r We’re e always glad t o have a guest .” “Are you?” said Elinor in hard tones. “I can’t imagine myself having anything in common with a government off officer icer..” Martin parried the slight rudeness. “Then perhaps you’re in for a surprise.” He turned to Lou, took a small bottle from his pocket. “I called in to give Mrs. Acland this pick-me-up. Tell her I had it freshly di dispensed spensed t his m morning. orning. T he inst instruct ructions ions are on tthe he label. label.”” Elinor tilted a small malicious smile at him, stretched her legs so that she looked thin and feline in the chair. “I’ve met your sort before,” she said. “You run everything and everyone according to t o t he book of rules and are looked up t o lilike ke a pat ri riarch. arch. T he Bwana D. D.C. C.”” Lou wis wished hed tthe he woman woul would d curb curb her bi bitt t er tongue, but Mar Martt in was n not ot in t he le least ast put out out.. He was still smiling in his solid English fashion when he replied, “T he dut y of a D. D.C. C. is tto o develop a personal iint nt erest in everybody iin n his provi province. nce. To m me, e, it ’s no longer a duty; it’s part of my life, and I like people of all kinds.” He picked up the bottle he had set on the table, shook it meditatively and put it down again. “That’s an awfully big chip you have on your shoulder, Mi Miss ss West on. on.”” “But all m mine ine own, and we’re t he best of f riends. riends. II’ve ’ve never been saf safe, e, as you are.” “T hen you m must ust st stay ay with us and t aste safet y for a whi while, le,”” he suggested. “We’re “We’re not so bad  when you get t o know us. us.”” He gave Lou an elder-brot elder-brotherly herly smi smile. le. “Bring Mi Miss ss West on over some time soon. And give Mrs. Acland my regards, will you?” He was gone, and Lou was left with the thin, fading Elinor. She took the bottle and moved once more towards t owards t he corri corridor. dor. “If you want anyt hing, just ring t he bell bell..” But Elinor held up a tropically yellow hand. “I think you’d better know at once that I can’t remain in Mulera for more than a few days. I might have tolerated Ross Gilmore—you know  where you are wit with h such a man—but I can’t bear t he Craddock t ype. So you and t he ot her guardian will have t o come t o a q quick uick decisi decision. on.”” Lou nodded and went from tthe he room room.. She sl slipp ipped ed t he medi medici cine ne bot t le on tto o t he t able bes besid ide e the bed in which Mrs. Acland slept and crept along to her own room. And there she stood and breathed deeply, tried very hard to shed the battered sensation. Really, life was becoming too much of a tangle. She couldn’t, even momentarily, imagine Keith in the care of Elinor Weston, and yet she was rent by a deep compassion for her. It wouldn’t be fair to turn the woman away, her life life as empt y as ever. Lou opened her letter and read it disinterestedly. Arnold posed an ultimatum. If he did not hear by return mail that Lou was relinquishing Keith and coming home, he would assume she did not care for him. Well, he would have to assume it, she thought unhappily. She didn’t miss him at all all,, so it must be t rue.

 

Later, when the boy brought her a cup ofAll tea, addressed t o herself. It held a not note e from Greg Allwyn. wyn.he presented her with another envelope “What about watching the sun rise, with me, tomorrow morning?” he asked. “Set your alarm clock at five and come st straight raight out ou t . I’ll ’ll be on tthe he road, wait waiting ing for you. Unl Unless ess you t urn me down at once, I’ll ’ll ttake ake it you accept . Do come!” It was like a cool draught of clear water. Lou definitely intended to awaken at five, and  wit hout an alar alarm m that might rouse tthe he household!

  CHAPTER SIX

Sunrise, watched from the top of a hill, was all Lou could possibly have expected. There was darkness, with a shimmer on the Lake below and the yawning twitter of stirring birds in the cedars and palms. Then a thin scribbled line of flame showed the mountains in the distance, colors came alive, tenderly bloomed over with dusk, and the flame paled into a wash of gold  which t urned t he Lake int into o a mol moltt en yellow-blue met al. Leaves shone wit h last night night’s ’s mi mist st , a crane flapped up into int o t he branches and a small animal dart darted ed sleepil sleepily y aft er a liliz z ard. The world turned gently in a walking dream, stretched and began to slide into its daily rhythm. Lou sighed pleasurably, drank the coffee Greg gave her and blinked at the swift doveblue of t he sky, t he glassy rrippl ipples es of t he L Lake. ake. “T he air is so fresh, fresh,”” she said, “and everyt everything hing is beaut beautiful. iful.”” “Everything,” he agreed, looking at her. “Lou, have you ever been made love to first thing in the morning?” “Never, and it it’s ’s not going t o happen now. I didn’ didn’tt get mysel myselff up ffor or iitt !” “Y “You ou smell llike ike a perfumed w wat at erfall. erfall.”” “Hair-wash and eau de Cologne,” she told him unromantically. “It’s been marvellous, Greg, but we must go back now. now.”” “It “It ’s not seven yet yet.. Why not have br breakfast eakfast with me?” She shook her head. “I must must n’t overdo it it.. Please Please let ’s go. go.”” He started start ed tthe he engi engine ne of t he jee jeep, p, and as he llet et in the clutch and t hey m moved oved away tow towards ards the road she looked at him. His sand-colored hair was untidy and youthful-looking, and the  jaded humorl humorlessness essness had gone from hi his s mout mouth. h. His chin was st stililll t oo graceful for a man, of course; he couldn’t alter that. But there was more life in his light brown eyes and his smile had regained the quality which had doubtless caught at many feminine hearts in the past. In his short time at Mulera he had shed years and a degree of disillusionment, which in its way was something somet hing of a mi miracl racle. e. As he drove he spoke lightheartedly. The job was hard, he said, but congenial. Ross was

 

making some improvements in the storage sheds and he, Greg, had made a suggestion which had actually been accepted. Ross was talking of increasing the cotton acreage and starting an additional nursery for coffee seedlings. There was nothing like growing things for making a man feel good. “You grew t rees befor before, e,”” she pointed out . “It was monotonous and long-term, and it didn’t really matter whether we made the forests pay or not. not . Act uall ually y, in N Nyasaland yasaland tthe he forest ry does pay for iitt self, but t here ’s no dri drive ve for profit profits s  which can be ploughed back int o t he land. Bel Believe ieve it or not , I’m I’m learni learning ng a whale of a lot from Ross.” “I believe it,” she said dryly. “You’re not the only one.” She waved towards the coffee trees. “I’ll “I’ll walk t hrough hrough,, G Greg. reg. II’d ’d rat her.” Reluctantly, he came to a halt at the lane which led round to the house. “I wish we could see each ot her more oft often. en. Shal Shalll I t ell you somet something?” hing?” “What sort of something?” “You’re the first really innocent girl I’ve ever known. They may have existed near me but I

passed t hem by. by.”” “Because you were looking for something somet hing else?” He grinned. “Maybe. The trouble is, I’m no longer myself. For the first time in my life I’m on the defensive defensi ve wit h a woman. It ’s shatt eri ering!” ng!” She laughed and opened her door, looked back at him. “No, don’t move. It’s been lovely, Greg. And st ay on t he defe defensive, nsive, will you? IItt ’s such a rel relief!” ief!” She waved to him and turned along the lane; the jeep moved on. In navy jeans and an openthroated powder-blue shirt, the streaky gold-brown hair tucked under a gay bandanna, she looked like a gangling, carefree boy as she entered the garden and halted at the tap from  which the t he garden hose snaked away t owards t he flower beds. S She he unscrewed t he noz nozz z le and dropped the hose, turned on the tap and let the water run over her hands and arms before burying her face in her cupped palms. It felt good, al almost most as cold as t he deep well from which it  was drawn. draw n. She dabbed her cheeks wit h a handkerchief but left t he droplet droplets s in her brows and across her forehead. She turned up towards the house, felt her heart skip a little as she found Ross on t he pat h. Ross, in dri drillll sl slacks acks and a whit e shirt shirt,, his dark hair sli slicked cked back and st ililll damp from t he show shower. er... He looked big and heart breakingl breakingly y handsome. “Good morning,” morning,” he said wit h cold politen politeness. ess. “Been places?” Lou’s light mood fell away and her n Lou’s nerves erves began t o t ingl ingle. e. “Yes, I have,” she answered, borrowing his brevit brevit y. “I didn’t didn’t know you favored t he early mor morning. ning.”” “I thought you knew everything. everything.”” A muscles tightened in his jaw but he spoke without heat. “I heard Greg’s jeep before dawn. You didn’t go out ou t wit with h him him,, by any chance?”

 

“Not by chance— chance—by by arr arrangem angement ent.. We wat ched tthe he sunri sunrise. se. Yo You u t ol old d me weeks ago tthat hat it ’s  wort h seei seeing, ng, and you were rright ight.. For half an hour I quit quite e forgot my problem problems. s.”” “Did you ask him to take you?” “No.” She smoothed a damp eyebrow, said quietly, “You don’t begrudge me a spot of  wholesome pleasure pleasure now and the then, n, do you?” He answered abruptly. “Of course not. If I’d known you were keen on it I’d have taken you myself.” The sun was well up now, burning the moisture from the leaves and seeping into the shadows. Bu Butt a breeze was ri risi sing ng t oo, and it brought faint sweet scents ffrom rom the orchar orchard. d. “Care to t ake a wal walk?” k?” T his, like like his last remark, was bot h unexpect ed and unset t liling. ng. Lou hesit hesitat at ed, pull pulled ed t he bandanna from her hair and swung it as she moved at his side. There was a subtle change in him; in any other man it might have indicated a softening, but in Ross it was something to evoke caution. Characteristically, he put his hands in his pockets and looked ahead as they  walked. “I’ve been thinking about that request of yours yesterday,” he said. “It wasn’t at all a good idea—your going going wit h El Elinor inor W West est on and Kei Keitt h t o Z Zomba. omba.”” “I guessed you’d you’d t urn it dow down. n.”” “A break in in Z Zomba omba or B Blant lantyre yre would be al alll right right— — mi might ght do you good. But I don’ don’tt quit quite e t rust

that woman. She’s got the deuce of a grouch against everyone. I hear she even went for the D.C.” “She needs kindness and consideration more than most of us. I don’t believe she’s ever known a sense of peace in her lilife.” fe.” “What about you?” he asked disconcertingly. “That wasn’t peace you knew in England; it  was t orpor. orpor.”” She flashed him a vexed smi smile. le. “You may be right , but it seemed lilike ke peace. II’ve ’ve even known it once or t wice since com coming ing tto o Nyasal Nyasaland. and.”” “Really?” “Really ?” w with ith a hint of sarcasm. “Wit h Martin and Greg?” “Y “Yes—and es—and w when hen II’m ’m al alone one somet im imes. es. “But never with me?” “No, never with wit h you.” “Good,” he said crisply. “I don’t want you comatose while I’m around. I like women to be aware of themselves—and of me.” A pause, then coolly, “What do you talk about with Greg?” She pulled pulled a gol golden den orange from a tree and t ossed iitt as t hey st strol rolled led al along ong t he lane through t he orchard. “He t ell ells s me about himsel himself.” f.”

 

“And you reci reciproca procatt e?” “Occasional “O ccasionally, ly, but I’m not very inte interest resting. ing.”” “You interest me. Does that surpr surpris ise e you?” She flickered flickered a clear grey gl glance ance at him. “Yes, it does. I’ I’ve ve always ffelt elt t hat you were interest int erested ed only iin n your possessi possessions, ons, and t hat you now regard Kei Keitt h as one of t hem. hem.”” “Y “You’re ou’re wrong, wrong,”” he said. “For one so youn young g and inexperienced you pack qu quite ite a punch sometimes. somet imes. T ell me about t hat chap in E England—Arnold ngland—Arnold Whatsisname. Whatsisname.”” She looked down and dug a fingernail into the orange, smelled the bitter moistness of the incision inci sion and reflected, iinconsequent nconsequent ial ially, ly, t hat her fingers would rret et ain tthe he aroma. Casually, she replied, “It’s “It ’s finished finished.. I shall proba probably bly neve neverr see him again.” He looked looked no differen differentt but he sounded odd as he asked, “Fed up about it?” “Not terribly. He was always very sweet to me but he’s stuffy and he hasn’t a scrap of underst anding. He expect expected ed sacrific sacrifices es of me but was unw unwililliling ng t o make any him himself. self.”” “Y “You’re ou’re well rid of him, him,”” Ross st stat at ed callousl callously y. “I “In n any case, you can’ can’tt conduct a love aff affair air at a distance dist ance of five or six tthousand housand mil miles. es. Did Did he ever propose?” “Not t ill ill he wrote t o me her here. e.”” “Give you lots of nice things?” “Flowers and chocolates mostly; he’s very correct.” She lifted the scarf she had tied about her head and said in in ast astonished onished ttones, ones, “A “Arnold rnold gave m me e tthis! his! II’d ’d forgot forgottt en. en.”” Ross took it from her, shook it out and said derisively, “Poppies and cornflowers, ears of  wheat . Witho Without ut meet meeting ing tthe he chap, I know him. him.”” He st stopped opped and looked int into o t he branches of a late lat e peach t ree. “A ffew ew peaches left . Would you like like one?”

Lou did not have t o answer answer.. Wi Witt h vexed llaught aughter er iin n her tthroat hroat she w wat atched ched hi him m fli flick ck out t he scarf and lasso a branch, drag it near so that he could pick the outsize peaches. He let the branch go and it sprang away, ri ripping pping t he sil silk. k. “Bad luck,” Ross said. “I’ll get you another.” “You did that t hat purpo purposel sely!” y!” He tut -t ut uttt ed. “I never de dest stroy roy any anytt hing bu butt pest pests. s. I’l’lll ttie ie tthe he rem remain ains s of t he scarf on a branch t o scar scare e tthe he vul vultt ures ures..” He gave her tthe he peaches and tied t he knot knot,, shoved hi his s hands back iint nt o his pockets and bent upon her the sort of look she loathed; it was hard and devilish. “That’s t he best way t o handl handle e mem mement entoes oes of a dead lov love. e.”” “I don’t don’t suppose you ever col collecte lected d any!” “What does tthat hat mean— mean—tt hat you don’ don’tt bel believ ieve e II’v ’ve e ever lloved?” oved?” Lou’s incalculable heart performed a tricky feat; it slipped and seemed to stop with a thud.

 

She looked at the arrogant green eyes, at the well-cut mouth. In that moment she forgot everytt hing bu every butt t he posi positt ive ive yearni yearning ng t o unders understt and tthe he man and m measur easure e up t o him him.. But in that moment also there came a crashing movement ahead among the trees, and before Lou knew what was happening she was pinned tightly against Ross and being thrust against a trunk. She caught a glimpse of a yellow feline body, arched for the chase, of a grey baboon screaming as it tore away towards the thornberry hedge. Then Ross’ hand pressed swiftly dug overexcruciatingly heruciatingly eyes, andiint she was conscious only of his strength and nearness and of the twig  which excr nt o her shoulder. T hen it was over over.. “I “I’m ’m afrai afraid d t hat was t he end of t he baboon, baboon,”” Ros Ross s comm comment ented, ed, matt er-offact ly. “Come on, we’ we’llll go back t he way we came. came.”” “Was t he ot her a ..... a leopard?” “A young lioness, and pretty hungry by the look of her. Well,” with a grin, “that’s about the nearest you’re ever likely to come to a lion. We don’t get them on the plantation unless they follow a buck or baboon. By the law of averages we shouldn’t see another on Mulera for about eighteen months.” He slipped a hand in the crook of her arm and said gently, musingly, “I  wonder where you’ll you’ll be iin n eighteen mont hs’ t im ime?” e?” But contact with the savage element of Africa had left Lou a little shaken. In any case, eighteen months was too far ahead for conjecture. She walked blindly till they reached the garden, then straightened in case they were seen from the windows. At the steps she went slight slightly ly iin n front , but t hey were in the porc porch h when Ross llet et out a sharp and furi furious ous breath. “You’re back is bleeding! Why the deuce didn’t you tell me I was shoving you too hard against agai nst t he ttree ree?” ?” She said deprecatingl deprecat ingly, y, “I hardl hardly y felt it—t oo ffrightene rightened, d, I suppose. It ’s not nothing. hing.”” “Y “You ou idi idiot ot !” He pushed her through t he liliving-room. ving-room. “I’ “I’llll have a look at it in th the e bat hroom. hroom.”” “ Ross, p please lease....” But he had grasped her agai again, n, t his time abo above ve tthe he elb elbow ow and at t he waist, a as s he t hrust her in front him. She had no choice to enter thethe steamy andremove stand near the washbasin.ofHe was in a mood to hackbut a patch from blousebathroom if she didn’t it, but she had t he presence of mind to compromise. She undi undid d a couple of but t ons and shook down t he coll collar ar so that he could reach her shoulder. He said something unprintable and turned on the tap, swabbed with cotton wool, used antiseptic and pressed an adhesive plaster over the small  jagged wound. Lou readjusted t he blouse and tthanked hanked him poli politt ely.

“Don’t suffer in silence,” he said roughly, “ever  “ ever .” “A scratch of that kind didn’t seem important down there among the wild animals,” she observed obser ved a lilitt t le dazedl dazedly. y. “T hanks for att endi ending ng t o it. it.”” Whatever of softness had been in him was dissipated now. He pegged the window wide, sniffed sni ffed at t he perfum perfumed ed st steam eam and llooked ooked with distast e at a beri beribboned bboned jjar ar of bat bath h oil oil.. “You don’t keep your fripperies in the bathroom. Why does she have to?” “It’s the normal place, really, but you’re not accustomed to having women about so I’ve done

 

my best t o keep t he plac place e monastic. monastic.”” “Monast ic?” he considered t he w word, ord, and let it pass. “Well, I daresay I can st and it it,, temporarily. If this goes on I shall build another wing.” Lou nodded. “It must be awfully irritating to a man like you to have three women and a child on the premises. It would be a considerable improvement if Greg came here and I took Keith and Miss Weston down to the manager’s house.” “No.” He didn’t qualify the negative in any way but it was decisive. “This won’t last long. I’ll see to t hat. hat.”” “Y “You ou won’t be horri horrid d t o her, will you?” “T o El Elinor? inor? Of course not . Cyni Cynicism cism in a woman get s my goat but I feel sorry for her. her.”” Keith suddenly appeared, clad in shorts and nothing else, his hair tousled from bed. He st ared up at t hem, smi smiled led engagingl engagingly. y. “Are you two tw o goi going ng tto o wat ch m me e have a bat bath?” h?” Lou answered hastily. “Uncle Ross hasn’t time and I’m going to change my shirt. Get started and I’ll I’ll c come ome back. And don’t t ouch any o off you yourr Aunt ie El Elinor’ inor’s s t hings, will y you?” ou?” Keith looked regretfully at a canister of talcum powder. “I wouldn’t use much much,” ,” he said. “Y “You’l ou’lll use none at all all,,” Lou said firmly. firmly. “Whit e soap and your sponge sponge,, t hat ’s all all..” Keitt h sighed. “Did you get me tthe Kei he cowboy belt , Uncl Uncle e Ross?” “Seems t hey’re out of dat e, old timer timer.. But I or ordered dered a space out outfit fit .” Ross was out side iin n t he corridor. corri dor. “Lik “Like e t o go out wit h me tthis his m morning?” orning?” “Oh, “O h, boy, boy,”” murm murmured ured Kei Keitt h ecst at ical ically. ly. “Would I jjust ust !” But Lou dampened him. “Two hours for lessons first, Keith. Then you can do as you like for t he res restt of t he day. day.”” The child’s expression changed; he scowled. “If Uncle Ross wants to take me with him I can go.” Lou dropped the bath plug into place, turned on both taps till the central outlet gushed a  warm st ream and t urned t o t he door door.. “Y “You’re ou’re not mi missing ssing your lessons, lessons,”” she said briefly briefly,, and  went out , closi closing ng tthe he door behi behind nd her. Ross was withdrawn and sardonic once more. He looked down at her, said easily, “The boy isn’tt six yet. Your disc isn’ discipl ipline ine iis s t oo rigi rigid—t d—t oo darned kindergarten alt altoget oget her. her.”” “I disagree. Two hours is a small slice out of his day and the discipline for that length of time

is good for him. A child should be able to read by the age of six-and-a-half, but Keith loses patien pat ience ce even with t hree-l hree-let ettt er words words.. He’ He’s s intell intellige igent nt , but he won’t t ake tthe he t roubl rouble. e.”” “It’ll come. I believe in getting kids out into the woods and letting them develop in their own  way. T hey’re like like young trees—t hey’ll hey’ll grow st straight raight if tthere’s here’s not hing choki choking ng tthem. hem.””

 

“Such as knowledge?” she asked. “You’re trying to rush it, little one, and with Keith it may not work.” “Well, “We ll, we we’l’lll see. IIff I could hav have e my ow own nw way ay w wit ith h Keit Keith. h....” She broke off as Ali approached along t he corridor corridor,, carryi carrying ng a breakfast t ray ray.. He managed t o bow and smile disarmingly as he passed and entered Ross’ bedroom, where Elinor Weston  was now in possession. possession. Ross drew a sharp breat breath h of exasperat exasperation. ion. “Women and chil children, dren,”” he said, and w walked alked on int into o t he liv living-room. ing-room. For a couple of days an ominous qui quiet et hung over Mul Mulera. era. Ross was out much of t he t ime and Elinor Weston rested either in her bedroom or on the veranda. There was no discussion about Keith and the bitterness lingered only in the lines of Elinor’s face; they had nothing whatever t o do wit h t he chil child. d. Bu Butt she at ate e lilitt t le le;; her di diet et consi consist sted ed chi chiefly efly o off coffee and ci cigarett garett es. Lou’ ou’s s compassion for the woman rose and remained steady. She had never before known anyone  who had so lit lit t le in common w with ith ot her women, in ffact act so few bonds wit with h t he whole human race. Lou arr arriv ived ed at t he concl conclusi usion on t hat t he bli blight ght which had sm smitt itt en El Elino inorr Weston at t he age of twenty-four must have been pretty bad, and that the effects of the ruined love affair in Singapore Singapore had been let hal. Martin Craddock came in, and to Lou he seemed to have altered. She saw that other side of him, the keen but human Bwana D.C. who now appeared to consider Miss Weston one of his problems. He arrived as tea was being served to Mrs. Acland and the two younger women on the veranda, and he accepted with his usual pleasure their invitation to join them. He offered cigarettes, allowed his glance to rest on Elinor’s nicotine-stained fingers but made no comment. He was calm and friendly, obliged with an anecdote or two about the rest-houses in  which he had t o sl sleep eep when on ttour. our. “They’re quite lively after dark,” he said. “Hordes of insects, naturally, but other visitors as  well. Fr Frogs ogs and llizards, izards, t arant arantulas, ulas, an occasional snake. My si sist st er accom accompanied panied m me e just once; it  was enough.” enough.” “You’ll never find an ordinary English woman to share that with you,” remarked Elinor, in the bored tones she used to him. “A woman only loses her horror of insects and snakes when t here’s something ffar ar more exci excitt ing in her llife. ife.”” “So you’ll bet t hat I’ll ’ll never find a wife?” he asked, sm smililing. ing. “Y “You’l ou’lll find one, one,”” she said, wit h an indolent shrug, “but you won’t keep her unless she rem remains ains head over heels he els in llove ove w with ith you. And t hat never happens, II’m ’m afraid. afraid.”” “Y “You’re ou’re too young t o be disil disillusi lusioned, oned,”” he said. He tthought hought for a moment moment.. “I’ “I’d d like like you t o come over and see us oft en. We’d find a good deal t o t alk about about..” “I doubt it.” Elinor smoothed the white skirt which had seen many launderings, stretched her t hin legs and crossed her ankles. “I’m “I’m hardened against good w works. orks.”” Mrs. Acland said sof softt ly, ly, “T hen you mi miss ss a great deal of happiness, my dear dear.. I never cease t o be t hankful that t here ar are e so many char charitable itable organ organizat izations ions iin n t he world. world.””

 

Elinor Elinor cl closed osed her eyes, and Mrs. Acland got rat rather her slowly tto o her ffeet eet . She smi smiled led apologetically at Martin. “I still st ill t ire rat rather her quickly, I’m afraid. Will you ex excuse cuse me? me?”” “Off course. Let me help you!” “O “No, Lou Lou w will ill do it . Goodbye, Mart Martin. in. Come again soon.” He waited till Lou had escorted Mrs. Acland into the house before seating himself gazing at the thin sallow face with the dark smudges where the eyes were closed. He leaned forward, said sai d t houghtf houghtful ully ly,, “I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone who’s so sorry for herself as you are. You pride yourself on being a strong silent woman but it’s my guess that you’re quiet because you haven’t a t hing to say. say.”” The eyes remained closed. “How right you are, Mr. Craddock.” Her manner manner did not det er him him.. “Was it a man who caused you t o leave E England?” ngland?” Her eyelids flicked back and she gazed at him with distaste. “In a way. Is your curiosity satisfied?” “By no means. Were you in love with wit h him?” “Not wit with h t he man, very m much. uch. His His background was at t ract ractive. ive.”” “Did he let let you down?” “How did you guess?” with w ith bit ing cool coolness. ness. “Because you’re a m man an t oo?” “No. I wouldn’t let a woman down, but then I’m not one of your handsome heart-breakers. Don’tt you ever t alk about it?” Don’ “What’s the use?” She gave him a straight glance of enmity. “I was more to blame than he  was.” “You don’t really believe that or you wouldn’t cling to the persecution complex. What happened?” For a or two passed it lookedover as ifher Elinor were going them to close herdeep eyes and again and She ignore Then a second faint shadow eyes, leaving oddly dark. sathim. up straighter, reached for the box of cigarettes and lit a new one from the one she was discarding. Perhaps she was aware that the habit was one which Martin Craddock disliked. Certainly she didn’t didn’t care. “I’ll tell you, Bwana D.C. It’ll make your hair stand on end,” she said with bored mockery. “I ran into someone presentable who had a title and large estates. I meant to marry him and managed a number of invitations to houses where he was a guest. Then the lucky moment arrived; I was convinced right through my whole being that during that week he would propose. It was to be the first great climax of my life. Unfortunately, though, we Westons weren’t well off.. I worked in a bookst ore and pret ended I di off did d it for kicks and pin money money,, but act uall ually y I needed every penny I earned. I’d been spending too much on clothes, but now I needed more and

 

bet t er frocks and certainly a good fur. So what did I do?” Mart in rubb Martin rubbed ed his chin and said ca casually sually,, “You had t o have money, so you ... helped yourself?”

Just perceptibly the hand holding the cigarette trembled, but her expression was as bored and cool as ever. “You’re certainly a good guesser. I forged my father’s name on a cheque  which made an iimmense mmense hole iin n hi his s curr current ent account .” T here was silence. Martin looked down at his ttent ent ed fingers, and finally sai said, d, “You were young and a litt litt le cr crazy. azy. You thought you ’d rrepay epay your father a hundred ttim imes es one you’d hooked your man. You w weren’t eren’t ffundament undament all ally y dishonest dishonest,, I’m sure of t hat .” Elinor pressed out the newly-lit cigarette, regained the small amount of composure she had lost. “Charitable of you to believe in me, but my father’s reaction was rather different. By the sheerest bad luck he was in touch with the bank the day after I’d drawn the cash. He hit the roof, said terrible things and took charge of my account. I never did get that week among the rich. I went t o IItt aly carryi carrying ng a rucksack instead instead..” “T hat was wrong. You shoul should d have st stuck uck iitt out out..” “I know that t hat now, but it ’s far ttoo oo lat late. e.”” She gave him a col cold d smi smile. le. “You know, t his iis s only tthe he second time since since it happened that I’ve ’ve t alk alked ed about it. it.”” “Was it a man you told, t he first first t im ime?” e?” “Yes.” “Y “You ou were in llove ove wit with h him him?” ?” “You’re so clever, Bwana D.C. He was a business agent in Singapore. He asked me to marry him. I decided I couldn’t accept without telling him the whole truth, and when I did, he left me flat . I shan’t be unw unwise ise enough t o fall in llove ove again. again.”” “Y “You ou may. II’m ’m glad you’ve t old me, anyw anyway. ay.”” “Don’t flatter yourself that your brotherly interest was responsible. I feel someone here should shoul d know what ’s kep keptt me out of Engl England, and, and who more sui suitt able than t he pat ernal Bwana D.C.?” Martin refused t o be ruffled. ruff led. “Who indeed? II’l’lll respect your confidence. confidence.”” “Don’t be so darned upright upright....” She broke off and leaned back again as Lou came out Martin stood up and said he must be going. “And do come over, you two,” he begged. “Paula’s hardly at home these days and I’m growing crotchety.” “We’ll try and fit it in,” Lou said. “You’d be surprised how difficult it is to arrange things now that we’re a household of five. Fortunately, Ross has been taking Keith out with him in the aft ernoon ernoons s t his week. week.”” “Yes, I know. Paul Paula a says t hey have high t im ime e and call on someone different every day for t ea.

 

Yest erday it w was as tthe he Bai Bains ns over near Vi Vima. ma.”” Lou felt a sudden chill in her throat, but she smiled, and walked down to the car with Martin. He looked back and waved t o El Elinor, inor, said quietly t o Lou, “Dick’s sister is a whole lot like Dick, though you may not think it. She needs someone who has confidence in her and that’s why she’s after Keith. If you let her have him it would probably mean t he saving of her. her.”” Lou, still quivering from the information he had unwittingly let drop, answered without much ent husiasm. “Eli “Elinor’s nor’s unhappy but she’s not at t he end of her rope. rope.””

“She’s pretty near it. While Dick was alive he was a close connection she relied on mentally, even though they never saw each other. But he’s gone and there’s only Keith. She threw up her job and came came here the t he moment she he heard ard tthe he chil child d was alone in the w world. orld.”” “That’s true. And apparently she kept in touch with Dick’s solicitors. But we couldn’t give Keitt h int Kei into o her care. care.”” “Why not not ?” Lou looked looked at him unbelievi unbelievingly. ngly. “You “Y ou honest ly think it w would ould be ri right ght t o do so?” But Martin must have recalled the cold cynicism of the woman up there in the veranda. “Not yet, but don’t close your mind against the possibility. She needs the child far more than you do because she’s decided she’ll never marry.” “Oh, “O h, but she should marry! IItt would give her back all her courage and belief. belief.”” He smiled his kindly, disarming smile and patted her shoulder, wished her goodbye and drove away. Lou sauntered among the flowers and wondered. But relentlessly, her thoughts returned to the bald fact that Ross was spending his afternoons with Paula, that taking Keith along  was no doubt int intent ent ional ional.. L Let et Lou Prent Prentice ice t each t he chil child d and hand out all t he disci discipli pline ne he needed; it wouldn’t matter if Keith resented her. But Paula had to be loved as a child does love t he companion of his pleasures; she had t o be loved by Kei Keitt h because some day she w would ould be his new mother. Over my dead body! thought Lou fiercely. She yanked a dead gardenia from a bush of creamy blossoms. blossoms. She was not compell compelled ed t o give in. Legal Legally ly,, she she had t o approve of t he w woman oman Ross married married as a gu guardian ardian for Keith, and definit definitely ely she did not approve of Paul Paula. a.... She pulled herself up. Careful, now. Keith liked Paula and there was nothing to suggest that Paula did not like Keith, except the mild threat she had uttered weeks ago, that when she married Ross she would have the little boy sent away to a boarding school. Most people in this country would see nothing very unusual in that; certainly nothing wrong. Lou realized, with an appalling jolt, that in the eyes of these people she would have only a weak reason for clinging t o her own shar share e in K Keith eith West on. Why not be honest with herself? Why not admit that Keith, as a link with Ross Gilmore, had become her most treasured possession? Yet even that link was tenuous and frail and one t hat made Ros Ross s impatient. impatient. She went up into the veranda and forced cheerfulness into her voice as she asked Elinor if she would like some fresh tea. The older woman retained that stillness to which Lou was

 

becoming accustomed and faintly shook her head. “How do you feel about Martin Craddock?” she asked. “He’s steadfast, in a country that’s full of surprises.” “What’s the real reason he hasn’t married?” Lou lifted her shoulders. “I should say that he’s the type to take a long time over knowing a  woman before bef ore he’d hint at marr marriage. iage. He just doesn’t have a long t im ime e anywhere, anyw here, except here,  where t here aren’ aren’tt any women tto o measur measure e up to his rrequirem equirement ent s. s.”” “As simple as that? I’m not so sure.” Elinor drew her mouth down at one corner. “He’s slow and a bore, never t hinks of anyt hing beyond his jjob. ob. His His t ype are always lilike ke t hat .” “He only seems seems slow!  slow! Really, he’s calm and judicial, and I think he’s the kindest man I know. He’s He’ s tremendousl t remendously y respect respected ed by t he Africans in the province. province.”” “No, I don’t think you will,” Lou replied a little shortly, and she carried the tea tray into the

kitchen. Ali was equal to the task of catering for four adults and a child, but invalid cookery for Mrs. Acland had tried him so sorely that Lou had taken over the task. Now, she prepared an egg dish ready for the big black iron stove, and whipped up a fluffy fruit fool. The fan droned away on t he t op of t he kitchen cupboar cupboard d and she found it soot hin hing, g, yet yet,, lilike ke a grai grain n of grit under t he eyelid, Paula Craddock persisted in obtruding into her consciousness. A bright, beautiful  woman wit with h ash-blonde silky silky hair and vivi vivid d china-blue eyes. P Paula aula t he admir admired, ed, who want ed only t he admirat admiration ion of Ross Gi Gilm lmore ore ..... and who had it . Lou worked st eadil eadily y, al almost most unaware of the houseboy who was preparing vegetables and the quick silent movements of Ali, as he count ed sil silver ver and gave it a final polish. polish. T he d door oor swu swung ng op open en an and d Ross said, “Come out of t he kit kitchen, chen, young Loui Louise. se. We’ve something to show you.” Lou wiped her hands and went with him, found herself pushed into Keith’s bedroom, where the little boy sat on the floor, absorbedly staring into a square wooden box. She k knel neltt besi beside de him and gazed wit with h consternat ion at t he odd-look odd-looking ing eg eggs gs tthat hat he was gloating over. Ross said, said, “T ell Loui Louise se what t hey are and where t hey came from. from.”” Keith bestowed upon them both a faraway smile and once more stared at his treasure. “They’re crocodile eggs,” he said dreamily. “Mr. Gilchrist gave them to me. Do you know Mr. Gilchrist Gil christ,, L Lou?” ou?” “I’ve never met him, but isn’t he the man who keeps a small nature reserve on the other side of t he Kol Kolana ana River River?” ?” The little boy nodded slowly. “Last time we went there he promised me a crested crane, but t his time he sai said d he hadn’t got any any,, so he gave m me e tthe he eggs iinst nst ead. You c can an ’t eat crocodil crocodile e eggs.” Ross was down on his haunches, tolerantly watching them both. “You should have gone  wit h us, Loui Louise. se. T he old chap was in generous m mood ood and he might ha have ve given you a squi squirrel rrel or a monkey. His animals are quite tame.”

 

“He gave Paul Paula a a crocodile skin!” proclaim proclaimed ed Keith Keith.. Lou’s Lou’ s lilips ps went dry. She put a finger on one of t he eggs and t hen sat back on her heels. “Y “You’ve ou’ve been having some lovel lovely y aft ernoons, Kei Keitt h,” h,” she said quiet quietly. ly. Ross made a smoot smoot h comment. “Bal “Balances ances t he day for him. Don’t object , do you?” “It’s a bit lat e t o ask, isn’ isn’tt it? But I don’t object object.. I used t o t ake him for drives m myself yself when I had t he use of Pe Pett er Whyte’s car. car.”” “I’m afraid the afternoon outings have come to an end now. I shall be too busy. But you can borrow t he saloon, so long as you don’t go far. far.”” “Thanks.” It was all very polite and stilted. Ross stood up, apparently decided there was no more to be said sai d and went from the room. Keith lovingly caressed the eggs. “I’m going to collect things,” he sighed happily. “Eggs and skins and shells and ... and ...” His imagination baulked, so he asked, “Why didn’t you go with us, Lou? IItt was fun!” “Is “Is it always fun when you go out in the aft ernoon wi witt h Unc Uncle le R Ross?” oss?” He nodded. “Somet “Sometimes imes we have t ea wit h people, but I don’t lilike ke going where t here are

children.” T he remark was t ypical of a child who had b become ecome accust accustomed omed only tto o adult adults. s. Lou said, “Not at first, but you might like it after a bit. It would be nice if you could play with other boys and girls.” “T hat hat’s ’s what Pa Paula ula say says. s.”” “Does she?” Lou watched him as she said, “It’s true, of course. I think you’d have been very happy at t he kind kindergar ergartt en where I used tto o t each. each.”” “Paula says boarding boarding school is best. S She he knows o one ne at Durban where you can do as you like. I’ve ’ve got a secre secrett wit with h her about it .” Lou found her hands tight, and she felt a cool dew at her temples. “Just between you two? Not with Uncle Ross?” Keith shrugged his small shoulders carelessly. “She says that Uncle Ross knows all about it but I mustn’t say anything till he mentions it. I mustn’t tell you either.” “It’s right to keep secrets you’ve been trusted with,” she said. Then, after a moment, “You’ll have to keep your eggs on the top shelf of your cupboard, Keith. Wash your hands before you come to t o t he liliving-room. ving-room.”” Lou went out into the corridor, hesitated and listened. There were sounds only from the kitchen where the boys were working. She moved along to the small study which adjoined Ross’s bedroom, tapped on the door and, receiving no answer, turned the handle and walked into int o t he book lilined ned sanct um. T here wa was s a roll-t op desk and a hide chair chair,, a smal smaller ler chai chairr, a

 

bright hooked rug and an old grandmoth grandmother er clock in in t he corner corner.. Not Nothing hing else, except books and the large map of Africa which hung on the only vacant expanse of wall. Lou had several times seen the map through the half-open door, and she now went close to it, and found the town of Durban Durban on t he southeast corne cornerr of Africa. She measured her thumb against the scale, roughly calculated the distance between Durban in in Sout South h Af Afri rica ca and Chekwe in Nyasal Nyasaland. and. More tthan han a t housand mil miles! es! And t hey were contemplating sending there a child who would be no more than six and quite alone. It was unthinkable. Lou st stared ared at t he map, and tthen hen t urned fro from m iitt and lleft eft t he smal smalll study. She wal walked ked iint nt o t he living-room and saw that Mrs. Acland sat there taking some sort of refreshment with Elinor Weston. She smiled at them automatically and went to the window, stood there wondering how in the t he worl world d she was t o handl handle e t his his.. When Ross and Paula were married they would send the child a thousand miles away, unless ... unless she, Lou Prentice, could legally appeal against it. But could she? Legal expenses were high, and the other two had everything in their favor. There was no one she could appeal to for advice or even for sympathy. Mrs. Acland would definitely agree to  what ever Ross decreed, and Elinor Elinor West Weston on ... well well,, E Elilinor nor would w ould present no problem problems s t o Ross Gilmore. For minutes, Lou considered approaching Ross himself, asking him point blank if, when he and Paula were married, they were going to deprive Keith of a real home and parents. But  what would be t he use? Ross was a mast er of t he art of cynical evasi evasion on and count er-t hrust hrust;; she would get nowhere at al alll with him. She thought back over the child’s few remarks, decided that her first step must be to ascertain how near her guess approached the truth. Her nerves contracted, defensively, and she t urned casuall casually y t owards Mrs. Acland. “Ross said I might use the saloon. Do you happen to know where he keeps the keys, Mrs.

Acland? “In the t he t op drawer of his desk, I t hink. Are you going ffar, ar, dear?” “Only “O nly a few mi miles. les. It ’s cool and invi invitt ing out doors. doors.”” “Wouldn’t you lilike ke El Elinor inor to go w with ith you?” By now, Lou was quivering. “I’d sooner be alone, just this once. You don’t mind, Elinor?” Elinor gave her jaded smile. “Why should I? As far as I can remember I’ve never been wanted in my life.” At any other time Lou would have said something compassionate and begged forgiveness. Now, t hough, she was t oo keyed up by her decisi decision on t o pay much at t ent ion tto o El Elinor inor.. She found t he keys a and nd ran ou outt and roun round d t o tthe he garag garage, e, got into t he bi big g car an and d t est ested ed tthe he gear gears s before backing backi ng out . As she drove her pain was almost tangible, a fine thin probe of a thing that touched her exposed nerves with exquisite precision. She didn’t yet know that although her mission was connected solely solely wit with h Kei Keitt h, t he pain had no rel relat ation ion to t he chi child ld at all. all.

 

  CHAPTER SEVEN

The houses of the government officials were stirring from their afternoon torpor. Here and there a couple of men were seated on a veranda with drinks on a table between them, and one young man, wearing only shorts, was standing in his garden while a houseboy hosed him. He must have recognized the car, for he waved cheerily, and called something above the hissing of the hose. But Lou hardly noticed him. She drove on carefully till she reached the largest lar gest and most imposi imposing ng of t he houses, and brake braked d just out si side de t he gat e. Lou got out of the car, walked round to the porch and went up the steps. The door stood open but she pressed a bell which rang somewhere at the back of the house. A smart houseboy appeared. a ppeared. W Would ould madam please come in? She entered the comfortable lounge, told the boy she wished to speak to Miss Craddock. There was a long silence, during which Lou stared at the tank full of tropical fish which Martin must have brought through from the room which he used at an aquarium. They were pretty fish, gauzy and pink, striped in gay colors, flatheads, snub noses, spear like and round; every type of tiny tropical sea creature moving among miniature rocks and anemones and plants. Lou went on staring, unimpressed. Her heart was beating unevenly up near her throat and t here was a weight behi behind nd her eyes, but her cour course se was set . She heard the rustle of silk and turned towards the door. Paula came in, moving easily in a grosgrain wrap which was sea-blue patterned in black. Long limbs, slim hips and well-built shoulders; red lips smiling, vivid blue eyes utterly self-assured. “T his iis s unexpect ed, ed,”” she said. “Can I do somet something hing for you?” “I just wanted a short talk with you,” Lou said stiffly. “Keith mentioned about an hour ago t hat he had a s secre ecrett with you. He di didn’ dn’tt t ell me the secret and I certainl certainly y di didn’ dn’tt t ry to get it out o f him him,, but he did m ment ent ion th that at it ha had d some connect connection ion with a b boarding oarding school in D Durban. urban. I t hought I’d be bett t er com come e t o you and fi find nd out what it’s al alll ab about out..” Paula opened a crystal box and took a cigarette which she fitted with some precision into the holder. “I don’t get it,” she said, serene and insolent “The secret I had with Keith was only a

childish one. I wouldn’t dream of trusting any child with something important. You’ve been leaping to conclusions.” “Perhaps, but only you can tell me iiff t hey’re the right ones. ones.”” “What about Ross?” Paula waved the elongated cigarette. "But you wouldn’t go to him, of course, because he’d soon put you in your place. Ross won’t have interference in anything that concerns him.” Oddly, Lou found no difficulty in keeping her temper; this problem was far too big for petty squabbling. She said evenly, “This happens to concern me, too. I have a right to know every plan for Keith’s education and future.” Paula lifted her elegant shoulders. “You make that child too important—in fact, everyone does. He’s just a small boy who has to have things arranged for him. Ross feels that the lion’s

 

share of responsibility should be his, so I have to go along with the idea. It’s ridiculous that we should be saddled with someone else’s brat at the beginning of our marriage, and the only sensible sensi ble c course ourse iis s t o lilight ghten en t he burde burden n at t he out outset set I’m wil williling ng t o admi admitt t hat I intend Kei Keitt h t o go t o a boarding school. school.”” “A “And nd .. .... R Ross oss a agrees?” grees?” “He hasn’t disagreed—a man in love isn’t difficult to manage, not even when he happens to be Ross Gilm Gilmore. ore.”” T his st start arted ed t he pain again, but Lou was det ermi erminedly nedly cool cool.. “Even if it had to be, there must be schools nearer than Durban! No woman of normal feelings could send a small boy so ffar ar away ffrom rom tthose hose he loves. loves.”” Paula lit the cigarette, blew smoke directly upwards. “Children have no capacity for love. Surely Surel y Kei Keitt h himsel himselff has proved t hat , by t he way he’s recovered from his par parent ent s’ deat death. h. You’re simply being foolish. f oolish.”” “He’s too young to grieve, but every child must have someone near, someone he can always turn to for affection and understanding. There’s also the risk of illness. Even by air it might take you two tw o days t o re reach ach hi him m do down wn t here at t he coa coast st!” !” “My dear girl,” said Paula with condescension, “the child will attend a good school which has a sanatorium. He’ll get many attentions as the richest child in the continent of Africa. What more is necessary?” “He won’t get lov love, e, and at his ag age e it’s what he needs most. most.”” “Spare me, for heaven’s sake, sake,”” said Paul Paula a sharply sharply.. “Why should it worry you w what hat happens t o him? You’re unmarried, and the child could only be a handicap to you. In my opinion, you’re darned lucky that Ross is so conscientious!” Lou let a moment or two elapse before she said, “I don’t believe you and I talk the same language. You seem to be taking it for granted that I’ll relinquish my rights where Keith is concerned, but I don’t have to do that if I’m not satisfied that the woman Ross Gilmore marries  will t ake as m much uch care of Kei Keitt h as I would mysel myself. f.”” Paula Pau la gave a bor bored ed shrug. “And w what hat do you t hin hink k you can do about it?” “I can get legal opi opinion!” nion!” “A lot of good it wil willl do you. No one wil willl take t ake any not notic ice e of a penni penniles less s gir girll of t went y-t wo. wo.”” Lou was unable to suppress the sudden trembling of her body, but somehow she still kept her voice impersonal. impersonal. “I cam came e t o you first because I reali realiz z ed t hat Ross has only hal halff-consent consent ed to sending Keith away, and I didn’t want you to think that I’d take advantage of living in his house t o. o....”

Paula exclaimed swiftly. “So it’s blackmail now! How dare you! Do you think I’m a moron or completely blind? Do you think I haven’t noticed that smug expression you’ve worn ever since Ross cleared you out of the manager’s house and let you have a room at his own place? But don’tt flatt er you don’ yoursel rselff t hat your s sweet weet chara charact cter er and hyp hypocri ocritt ic ical al ca care re of t hat hat,, boy had any anytt hin hing g t o do w with ith your bei being ng all allowed owed t o lilive ve at t he homestead! Yo You’re u’re t here si simpl mply y because Ros Ross s has a thing about giving his manager a house to himself. He loathes having you there under his roof—he tol t old d me so!”

 

Lou went white and her eyes were bright with sudden humiliation, but she spoke with a brisk casualness. “I doubt whether Ross would have put it as strongly as that, but I’m well aware that he dislikes having his house overrun by women. I wonder if he knows how little you care about Keith?” “If you’re threatening, you can save yourself the trouble.” A thin smile curved her lips. “I’ve made friends with your little darling—hasn’t he told you? It was an effort and I’m glad it’s over, but I think it’s accomplished something rather important. Ross is the big masterful type but he likes likes a cert ain soft ness in his women. Kei Keitt h has helped me t o convince him th that at I’m maternal. It  was t he llast ast lit lit t le det ail I needed. needed.”” “T o ..... t o get what you’ve been angl angling ing for?” “Exactly.” Paula rested her cigarette on a large ashtray, whispered across to the couch and sat down, crossing her slender ankles. With a pleased smile she examined the blue kid slipper  which dangled from her t oe. “Wai “Waitt ing for a man hardens you. II’ve ’ve been in no hurry t o get married but I do have my quota of pride, and when I came out to Africa this year I was determined that if Ross was still too immersed in his plantation to think about marriage, I’d find some way of jolting jolt ing hi him m awake t o his own feelings. But I di didn’t dn’t have t o do it . I hadn’t been here long when the Westons had t hei heirr acci accident dent and Ros Ross s t ook over the boy. T hat mi mist sty y day when t he car crashed was quite a mil milest est one in m my y lilife! fe!”” “T hat ’s a ..... an appalli appalling ng t hing tto o say. say.”” “Is it?” Paula slanted a narrow glance at Lou. “If I were to die tomorrow you’d be glad of it  wouldn’t you?” “I certainly wouldn't!” “Come off it.” Paula scoffed. “I can just see what would happen if I were removed. You’ve already shown Ross how well you can manage a child who means nothing at all to you; just t hink how bli blissful ssful it w would ould be iiff you could comfort him aft er losi losing ng me. T he pit pity y of it would be, of course, that Ross could never see you as anything but the ordinary little person you are.” A pause. “You might remem remember ber that next t im ime e you’ you’re re ttempted empted t o hand out warni warnings. ngs.”” It was only in that moment that Lou realized how hopeless was her errand. She had come here with t he intent ion of appeal appealing ing tto o Paul Paula a Crad Craddock, dock, but ins instt ead she had once more been forced on the defensive and shown, very plainly, how negligible she was in Paula’s scheme of things. nothad a normal woman; herevil instincts were strong butofselfish, her patient Paula love forwas Ross something a little in it. She was the sort womanand whoeven evoked passion and then evaded it, who promised many things she was not prepared or equipped to give. She had angled and waited for Ross because he was hard to get. But when she was marri mar ried ed t o him him—what —what t hen? Paula spoke again. “Why have you stayed on where you must see you’re not wanted? I know my brother advised you to look about for a husband here, but you must have been aware that t hat he was jok joking. ing. What about t hat job of your yours s in E Engla ngland?” nd?” Lou’s thoughts were halted. She looked a little blankly at Paula. “Didn’t you know that Ross made me me resi resign gn from iitt and t hought I shoul should d set t le her here e wit with h Kei Keitt h?” Apparent ly, Paul Paula a didn’t know. S She he lay back slowly, her beaut ifull ifully y regular feat ures set hard in an angry smile. smile. “So tthat hat’s ’s what has kept you goi going! ng! How int interes erestt ing. And what have you been

expecting of us—that we’ll engage you as a private governess for Keith? Have you imagined  

yourself remaining for years at the plantation with the boy in your care and Ross very near? What a hope hope!” !” Lou’s teeth went tight. “I can stand just so many insults from you, Paula. You think you have command of every situation, but this particular scene is not entirely in your hands. You’ve decided you’ll marry Ross and put up with having the child attached; he can be sent a thousand miles away and forgotten. Well, I won’t consent to it, and I’ll make that very plain to Ross —before  —before he  he has t im ime e t o propose t o you! A And nd if you. you....” But Paula was on her feet, her face pale with fury, her eyes sapphire-hard and brilliant. “You have the nerve to come here and threaten me! Do you think I’ll stand for that? I’ll blacken you throughout Chekwe. I’llillltell everyone you’re your imploring little sheep’s Ross, and he himsel himselff w wil be tthe he first t othat know! If youcasting w were ere so keen on t he chil child d and on steyes ayingat iin n Nyasaland you’d have looked round for a husband. But no, you’ve imagined that this coguardianship with Ross is the kind of relationship which should have a romantic culmination! You’ve actually believed yourself capable of attracting a man who has had almost no time for  women til t illl t his year! How concei conceitt ed can a nursery t eacher become? It ’s unbeli unbelievable!” evable!” Lou’ ou’s s t hroat had become so con const stri rict cted ed t hat she found it difficul difficultt t o speak. She be began gan t o say something, but it hurt too much, both physically and mentally. She walked to the door and made mad e another a att t em empt pt.. “I’m not going to wrestle with you, Paula, nor shall I try to answer your accusations; they aren’t worth it. I’m glad I came here this afternoon because it’s made me absolutely certain of one t hing. I’ll ’ll do everything I possibl possibly y can t o keep Keith out of your hands! hands!”” Paula’s head was high. “T here’s not Paula’s nothing hing you can do. I don’t want Kei Keitt h, but if Ross iis s determined to keep him I shall have to arrange things as best I can. And let me tell you this.” She leaned forward, and spoke t hrough t ight lips. “If you breat he one w word ord of t his ... di discussion scussion t o Ross, I’ll ’ll tell hi him m what I know about you—t hat you’re iin n love with him and jealous as t he devil of me. And I won’t choose my words, ei eitt her!” Lou was ashen, even her lips were colorless. She wasn’t aware that only now was Paula becoming certain of the truth of her suspicions. She said feebly, “It’s untrue.” Then her voice faded wretchedl wret chedly y int int o si silenc lence e and she turned and went out of t he house. Lou slipped into the car and somehow got it started, drove for some distance in low gear before hearing the roar of the engine. She changed up and felt power in her hands, knew a sudden urge urge t o get all t he speed she coul could d from tthe he big sal saloon. oon. She was tthroug hrough h t he Chekwe main street meeting no traffic, and heading across the savannah towards the coffee trees. A sharp little knife stabbed at her temple and then shifted position, to the base of her throat. She drew out to pass a jeep, was quite unaware of the identity of the driver till he waved frant ical ically ly as she passed and called, “Slow down, dow n, Lou—you’re doing nearly sevent seventy!” y!” Her foot went down on the brake, mechanically and hard. The car swerved and grazed the  jeep, moved forward a few yards and t hen st opped. She swit switched ched off off,, put a hand over her eyes. Gr Greg eg was at t he car doo door, r, openi opening ng it and st ari aring ng in at her wit with h t he ut utmost most const ernation. “Good lord, I couldn’t believe it was little Lou at the wheel!” he exclaimed. “What in the world  were you up t o?” T hen he saw her lift lift ed face, paper-w paper-whit hite e and shiny wit h sweat , and t he shaking hands which she had gripped gripped t oget her in her lap. “What ’s been happening? Shi Shift ft over over,, Lou. I’m getting in with you.”

 

He had to move her himself, and it was the most natural thing in the world that he should

hold her and make soothing sounds. But Lou didn t weep; she didn t even feel like weeping. She sat there till the muscles of her throat unlocked, felt him release her and put a cigarette between her lips. When Greg spoke again his tones were casual. “Don’t worry about that scratched wing. You can say you t ook a narrow lane and brushed a t horn t ree. If I were you, I wouldn’t t ell Ross tthat hat t he speed of t he car fri fright ghtened ened you. you.”” “It didn’t,” she said huskily. “If I’d been thinking about it, I might have been scared, but I just  wasn’t t hinki hinking ng at all. all.”” He looked at his watch. “How come you’re out at this hour? Been visiting?” Lou’s defences were down. She drew quiveringly on the cigarette and nodded. “I’ve just had a session with Paula Craddock. She ... she’s going to send Keith to school at Durban—after she’s married, of course. course . I said I’ I’d d ffight ight against it. it ...” “Why did you you bot bother her with t he woman? Why di didn’t dn’t you go st rai raight ght t o Ros Ross?” s?” She shook her head, forlornly. “I can’t do that. Between Ross and me, nothing has changed. You remember the rules about our guardianship of Keith? Well, it seems he’ll marry first and take over completely. I shan’t be able to fight against it because no one would uphold any claims clai ms I might have. I know how it’s it ’s goi going ng t o be, and I won’t st stand and ffor or it.” “You think he’ll try to send you back to England?” he asked quickly. “Not for some ttim ime. e. Till Till he m marri arries es it ’s c convenient onvenient t o have me here, and he’l he’lll want me tto o t ake care of Keith while ... while he has a ... honeymoon. After that, Paula will take over and I’ll be redundant. Ross will be generous in his lordly way, of course, but...” She stopped speaking, and t hre hrew w t he ci cigar garet ettt e out of t he ca carr wi window. ndow. Greg leaned back behind the wheel, more at ease. “Hell, who cares about them? I respect Ross and in many ways I envy him, but I’ll never really like him. I think Paula is what he deserves. She’ll match wits with him, which is more than any other woman could do.” He paused. “Y “You’re ou’re ver very y fond of t he kid, aren’t you? you?”” “Y “Yes. es. Even iiff I di didn’t dn’t love hi him m so much, I’d st stililll want t o do ffor or him what Doroth Dorothy y West Weston on did for me. I can’t bear to think of his having no one to go to in all his little crises. That’s what’s bad about boarding schools for the very young; there’s never anyone who cares more for the individual indi vidual c chil hild d t han ffor or any ot her chil children. dren. Greg, I can’t let him be sent so far ffrom rom everyone he knows!” “All right, right, y you ou can’ can’tt ,” he sai said. d. “Ross iis s t he best pers person on t o t al alk k t o about it. it.”” She fingered her neck, bit on to the inside of her lip. “That’s out, I’m afraid. He’d instantly t ackle P Paula aula and she’d .. .... well, she’s clever enough t o keep in t he clear herself and put me well in the t he wrong. S She’s he’s tthreat hreatened ened awf awful ul tthings. hings. I’m new here, but Ross has known Paula for years. Even Ev en if I had tthe he coura courage ge t o bat t le wi witt h t he t wo of t hem, he’d si side de wit with h her her.. And if he ’s iin n love  wit h her you coul couldn’t dn’t blame hi him. m.”” Greg watched the gathering dusk for a moment. “He’s only in love with his plantation. Maybe he’s discovering that a planter needs a wife, and a woman of Paula’s type would fill the

 

vacancy nicely. nicely. What I don’t underst understand and is why he’s cli clinging nging so hard t o Keith.” Lou said, low-voiced, “That’s the sort of man he is. If I’d been middle-aged and a confirmed spinster he’d have installed Keith and me in a bungalow somewhere in the district and paid us  weekly visits. visits. But I’ I’m m too young and I have no ties here. here.”” “Are you two still unfriendly?” “It’s something far more subtle than unfriendliness. He can be charming and thoughtful. He’s

had bookshelves put in my bedroom and filled them from his own stocks, he notices if I’m tired or not eating well, gets angry with me if I so much as prick my finger, and keeps a balance between bet ween El Elin inor or Weston and Kei Keitt h and me. Bu Butt t here’ here’s s a ffundam undament ental al antagonism betw between een us. I’m iin n t he w way.” ay.” “T hen you’ you’llll have tto o get out of it it,, won’t you?” said G Greg reg iin n pecul peculiar iar t ones. Surprisingly, he said nothing more for quite a while. Darkness fell suddenly, a couple of mosquitoes mosqu itoes came into t he car and winged lightly lightly between bet ween t hem and som somet ethin hing g sli slitt hered over t he bonnet of t he car a and nd di disappear sappeared. ed. Greg said, “You know a good deal about me, Lou. I haven’t hidden much. What do you think of a chap of my sort?” She smiled at him, palely. “I think you’re a great help. I knew one of the starchy type in England and I never took a single problem to him.” “That’s good hearing, anyway. I’ve been a bit of a heel in my time. For a while I drank and gambled madly, and I walked out on my first contract in Nyasaland. I’ve had an affair or two— but what man of my age hasn’t? There never seemed to be any reason why I should bother  wit h rigi rigid d honest y. I’ I’m m not going t o t ell you II’m ’m a reformed charact er er,, but I’ I’m m cert certainl ainly y having a shot at good, uncom uncompli plicat cat ed livi living. ng. Whet her II’l’lll make it or not , I can’t say. say.”” “Y “You’l ou’lll m make ake it,” she said confident ly. ly. “I hope my mood hasn’t made you sad and remini reminiscent scent , Greg.” “No,” he answered with a whimsical smile, “but that effect you have on me—turning me into an estate manager with all the dull but worthy ambitions—could last for ever. But only if you  want ed it t o. o.”” “Well, I do.” With an effort she lightened her tones. “I’m so glad you’re here, Greg. You and I may be utterly different people, but we do sort of mix. Considering the jumbled state I was in  when we met half an hour ago, I feel fine. fine.”” He looked her way, briefly. “You don’t look it, by any means, but I like to think I’ve helped. In fact fa ct ,” in level t ones, “I’ “I’d d like tto o go o on n helping. II’m ’m iin n love w wit ith h you, L Lou.” ou.” At firs firstt Lou t hought faintly, “Oh, no no,, not t his a as s well well!! I c can’ an’tt t ake any m more!” ore!” T hen she found a  warmth  warmt h running t hrough her her,, a fervent need t o be loved, even if it were only by Greg. IIn n a measure, it helped to mitigate the anxiety and weariness which were the result of the shattering defeat she had received at Paula’s hands. She felt Greg take her fingers, and she gave him a t ired but im impulsi pulsive ve smil smile. e. “I’m not in love with you. You know that, don’t you?”

 

“Sure I know it.” He was back in the resigned, sceptical vein. “But you’re too sweet to me not t o have any ffeeli eelings ngs for me at all all..” “I like you very ve ry much.” “That’ll do, to begin with. After all, I know love when I run up against it because I’ve seen the ot her tthing hing prett y oft en. You’re young, and you’ve never been in love, but I t hin k you soon  would be, wit with h tthe he man you mar married. ried.”” “A “Are re you saying al alll tthis his because II’ve ’ve been upset upset?” ?” “It’s encouraged me to speak now. I’d probably have waited a bit.” He grinned at her almost artlessly in the darkness. “I’m not much of a capture but I’m what you need. Believe it or not, I’ve never been wanted in my life, and it’s a surprisingly good sensation to live even on the fringe of it. I don’t know much about kids, but I wouldn’t object to having Keith around, if you’d marry me.”

It was only then t hat Lou absor absorbed bed what he was off offeri ering; ng; t he im impli plicat cation ions s smote her wit with h t he  weight of a sandbag, so t hat she sim simply ply gaz gazed ed at his t hin, deprecat ing feat ures with bewilderment bewilderm ent and dawning comprehension. “But it’s fantastic, Greg. I couldn’t use you like that!” “Don’t be absurd. I want  t  t o be u used. sed. Besi Besides, des, llook ook wh what at I’d be gaining! A sweet , c clear-eyed lear-eyed girl and her litt le cousi cousin, n, someone I could cheri cherish, sh, someone who’d nurse me w when hen t he ffever ever caught up with wit h me, some someone one t o play ar around ound with and show t he country. country.”” He didn’t say someone to ... to make love to. Lou was grateful for that. But she was too mixed-up mix ed-up t o consider t he mat mattt er carefull carefully y and coherent coherently. ly. She shook her head. “It’s the kindest thing I’ve ever heard from anyone, but I can’t marry you as a way of escape. It wouldn’t be fair tto o you, and we might event uall ually y find ourselves iin n an impossi impossible ble si sitt uat ion. ion.”” “I’l “I’lll bet you can’t t hink hink of a bet t er way out out..” “The present is rather overwhelming,” she admitted, “but I’m not entirely at its mercy. I ought t o be able to t hink o off something. something.”” He spoke gent ly. ly. “No, life’s life’s lilike ke t hat . You don’t cont rol your own dest iny iny.. T here may be t im imes es  when you t hink you do, but more oft en t han not somet something hing creeps up on you and t akes control, and you see what small potatoes you really are. That’s how it is with people like you and me.” “Perhaps. “Perhap s. You’re really very kind kind,, Greg. Greg.”” T he not e of disi disillllusionment usionment came back int into o his voice. “Nice old G Greg, reg, t hat ’s me. But I mean it it,, Lou—about marrying you. And when you’ve thought it over you’ll decide it’s not such a bad idea, after all. If you let Ross marry first, you’ll lose the child. Marry first yourself, and he’ll be yours for keeps, because possession in such cases is still nine points of the law. That feeling you had for f or Dor Dorot ot hy West on went deep. You’ll never feel right if you g give ive up her chi child. ld.”” T he bal bald d st at atement ement hung on t he air for a mi minut nute. e. T hen he switched on t he car beam beams. s. “T hink you’ you’llll be able tto o driv drive e in the da dark?” rk?”

 

She nodded. “It isn’ isn’tt far now now..” “I’ll go ahead in the jeep and you follow. If you don’t show up soon Ross will have the whole distri dist rict ct alerted. F Feel eel more chipper chipper?” ?” “Yes, thank you, Greg.” He got out of t he car and llet et her m move ove in behi behind nd t he wheel, t ouched her ha hand. nd. “T hin hink k it over tonight, Lou. If you’ll marry me, I swear I’ll devote the rest of my life to making you happy.” She managed the ghost of a smile, but said nothing. He closed the door, bent and touched his lips lips to her cheek and at once went back tto o t he jeep. Sh She e wait waited ed t ililll he had pul pulled led out and passed her, t hen st art arted ed t he car movi moving, ng, and followed him. Greg took the turning through the coffee trees and kept up a moderate speed. Then suddenly she saw him give the stop sign, and braked herself; and then the estate car swept past the jeep and drew up beside the saloon. Ross got out, and Lou realized, with only mild surprise, surpri se, t hat his eyes were green and ffiery, iery, his llean ean fa face ce angular wit with h fury. Yet he spoke coolly. “I deci decided ded t o look for you. Wher Where e have you be been?” en?” “For a drive. I met Greg and he...”

But Greg was t here, more assur assured ed t han he usually was with Ross. “Lou was w worri orried ed because she’d grazed a thorn tree with the car. I told her you’d understand. It was dark and she wasn’t t oo famil familiar iar wi witt h t he car so I led th the e way. way.”” “A “Allll rright ight,,” off offhandedly handedly from Ross. “I “I’l’lll take t ake over now.” “But I’m not sure you realize.. realize....” “I said it was all right,” snapped Ross. “Get going, Greg.” But perhaps because he had recently taken a further step towards regaining his selfrespect, Greg was in militant mood. “I don’t want you to blame Lou for anything,” he said. “I kept her late—talking.” “A “About bout yourself, no doub doubtt . I bel believe ieve you. you.”” Greg Gr eg st iffened. “You int intend end giv giving ing m me e t he sack when t he t hree m mont onths hs are up, don’ don’tt you?” “I haven’ haven’tt t hought about it yet . What has tthat hat t o do wi witt h tthis his particul particular ar m moment?” oment?” “Just this. I’ll leave as soon as you like. And when I go, Lou and Keith will go with me. I’ve asked her t o marry me. me.”” Ross Gilmore’s expression changed only slightly. He flickered a glance at Greg’s face, saw it strangely obstinate in spite of the graceful chin, and then he looked at Lou. Perhaps he noticed that her smooth young face had become hollow-looking and shadowed, for when he answered Greg Greg iitt was quietly and without roughn roughness. ess. “It might be as well to have something to offer a woman before you propose,” he remarked. “We’ll leave it there for tonight shall we? I’m afraid you’ll have to get the jeep out of the way before we w e can move. move.””

 

For a moment Greg was defeated. A muscle contracted in his jaw, he managed a creditable “Goodnight “Goodni ght”” t o Lou Lou,, and went back tto o t he jeep. It roar roared ed away. Ross straightened beside the car. “Just drive round in front of the garage,” he said. “I’ll put t he car away lat later. er.”” She obeyed, and when she reached the garage she slipped out of the car a second or two before he could manage to extricate himself from the estate wagon. She was in the porch  when he joined joined her, st eeli eeling ng hersel herselff against w what hat ever he might say. But he merely held wide the door and murmured coldly, “Go straight through and change. I’ll t ell t he ot hers you were sl slow ow because you found t he car a lilitt t le di difficul fficultt .” By the t he t im ime e Lou had changed int into o a plain bl blue ue linen and used a lipstick, a litt le of her courage had returned. She went to Keith’s bedroom and received a reproachful stare. He was sitting up in bed wit h his t oy rifle across hi his s knees and his h is arm arms s folded. “ You You didn’t  didn’t give me any supper,” he accused her. “And you “And you didn’t  didn’t hear my prayers, either. I had t o have Aunt ie E Elilinor. nor.”” “She did d id it beaut ifully, I’m sure. sure.”” “She was O.K. but she sighed three times.” In the same breath he said, “Auntie Acland may go back to England to see a doctor.” More upheavals, Lou t hought “Would you like to say your prayers again?” “Not more tthan han once, once,”” he replied firm firmly. ly. “A “And nd I don’t want you t o read t o me, eit either. her.””

Very well, but there s no need to be cross about it. You can t have things you own way all t he ttime. ime. You had a pleasant morning and an exci excitt ing aft afternoon ernoon wit with h Uncl Uncle e Ross. T hat ’s not bad for f or one day. day.”” “But not ot goin going g out wit with h him a agai gain n for a long t im ime. e. Now tthat hat you have tthe he car wil willl you take me to tI’m he n L Lake?” ake?” “Perhaps.” “Paula “Paul a said sh she e mi might ght t ake me, but I don’ don’tt want t o go wit h her. her.”” Ignoring her own ri rigid gid set of rules, Lou asked, “Don’t you? Why?” He tilted his freckled nose. “She takes no notice of me or else she’s all gooey. She doesn’t play properly. prop erly. You do.” “I’m “I’m glad you like tthe he way w ay I pl play. ay. Why t he gun in bed?” “I was going t o shoot you. Bang, bang. bang.”” “And you you thought bet t er of iitt ?” For t he merest second his eyes were dar dark, k, as if shadowed by tthe he ghost of somet hing he couldn’t quite remember.

 

T hen he cried happil happily, y, “Well, if I shoot you you’ll be gone, won’t you you? ? I want you here w wit ith h me, of course!” It was all the reward and stimulus she needed. Lou’s eyes glistened as she kissed Keith goodnight goodni ght,, but aft er she had p put ut out t he lilight ght she dabbed at t hem wi witt h a handker handkerchi chief. ef. When she walked into the living-room she looked bright and apologetic. She took a drink from Ross and carried carried iitt t o t he din dining ing-t -t able able,, where tthe he ot other her ttwo wo women were al already ready s seat eated. ed. Mrs. Acland, still colorless and slack, ate a finger of chicken and a slice of tomato. Elinor Weston t ook sal salad ad which she har hardly dly att empted t o eat . Ros Ross, s, t aut and exasper exasperat ated, ed, dared L Lou ou  wit h a gli glitt t ering, narrowed glance to be as finicky finicky.. She accepte accepted d tthe he plat plate e of chicken he cut ffor or her, almost choked on it, but made a show. The meal ended and Ross took his coffee to the small st udy. El Elino inorr Weston was lilight ghting ing her thirtiet thirtieth h cigar cigaret et t e of t he day when she asked, “Do you know  where I can buy a bot t le of brandy? II’m ’m not sleepi sleeping ng ttoo oo well and I t hought t hat if I kept a bot bottt le in my room I could swall swallow ow a t ot each night night..” Mrs. Acland replied, rather sharply, “I’m sure Ross wouldn’t mind you having a nightcap to t ake t o your room room.. T here’s no need for you t o keep a privat privat e st stock ock of drinks. drinks.”” Elinor drew her long thin body upright. She looked down with distaste at the faded silk print she was wearing and then deliberately crossed to the cabinet and poured a stiff brandy. She t urned, holdi holding ng t he brandy high. “T he best medic medicine ine in tthe he w world, orld,”” she said. “I’ve “I’ve been mi missing ssing it.” She went out and along t o her room. Mrs. Acland’s st art artled led gl glance ance met Lou’s. “She t alks as if she’s already tipsy.” “But she isn’t. That’s Elinor’s first drink since she’s been with us.” Lou was anxious. “Ought I t o stop her? her?”” “A woman w oman of her ttype ype and age? You can’t , my dear. One drink won’t hurt her. her.”” “But I’ve the impression that she used to drink rather much at one time. It’s bad to start up again.”

Mrs. Acland shook her head. “We can’t make ourselves responsible for her sins. She’s a very unhappy woman. She thinks that responsibility for Keith is the answer to her problems, but it  wouldn’t be. She should have marr married. ied.”” Lou nodded. “Has Ross told you what he’s going to do about her?” “He was going to pay her passage to England but Martin Craddock asked him to wait a bit. They’ve discussed it a good deal, I believe. Martin is one of those dear souls who believe that every path crosses another for some good reason; he feels the time will come when we’ll see  what is be best st for Elinor Elinor.. I t hink h he e ’s being sent im iment ent al. E Elilinor nor is headst rong and she’s always managed her own life, for bet t er or worse. No one could do anyt anything hing wit with h her. her.”” “I’m not sure. It seems such a pity she should come all this way for something that’s turned out t o be qu quite ite empty. empty.”” Mrs. Acland looked at t he damp palms of her hands. “I feel a llit ittt le llike ike tthat hat mysel myself. f. I used t o be

 

so interested in Chekwe and its restricted social life, but all I can do at the moment is lament t he heat and wonder how much llonger onger I can st stand and it. it.”” “Don’t you feel any better at all?” asked Lou, concerned. “Not really.” She hesitated. “There’s something I feel I ought to tell you. Ross doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to know. You promise to say nothing?” “I promise!” said Lou warmly. “Y “You’re ou’re a sweet and sensible girl and I find it very easy t o love you. you.”” Mrs. Acland sighed. “I’ “I’m ma nuisance. About three months ago I had a slight heart attack. I got over it very quickly and was quite well when Ross wrote asking me to come out here. My doctor assured me the air trip  wouldn’t do me any harm harm,, so I came as soon as R Ross oss want ed me. When I first arri arrived ved I t hought I’d soon be spri spright ght ly, but t hat lit lit t le at attt ack I had must have robbed me of somet hing. I’m afraid II’l’lll never feel fee l quite well while I st ay. ay.”” “I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Acland. Keith murmured something about your going over to England t o see a doct or but I didn’ didn’tt quest ion hi him. m. Shoul Shouldn’t dn’t you leave soon?” “While I rest I can’t come to harm, and I’ve seen the Chekwe doctor.” She smiled and added helplessly, helpless ly, “How can I make Ross pop t he quest ion tto o Paula? Once t hey’re engaged II’l’lll happily go home. I’m sure P Paula aula will want t o be marr married ied from her place in Hampshir Hampshire, e, and I could at attt end the wedding easily. I can just see the whole thing” —the birdlike eyes went very soft. “The church on the edge of the estate is ancient and ivy-covered and there’s a long paved path from a lychgate lychgate into t he porch. T he whole dis distt rict rict would tturn urn out, and tthere here woul would d be hundreds of people at the reception in the old manor house. Paula will make a ravishingly beautiful bride, and it would do my sill silly y old heart all the good in t he wo worl rld d t o see Ross marri married. ed. You know, Lou, you have to t o be old tto o get t his k kind ind of feeli feeling. ng. T o young peopl people e t here iis s always pl plent enty y of t im ime. e.”” Lou felt a compulsion to stand up and tidy the coffee tray. “Have you ever asked Ross why he hasn’t hasn’t yet propos proposed ed t o Paul Paula?” a?” The older woman gave a gentle laugh. “Many times, but you know Ross. ‘Hold your horses, Auntie Maud. All in good time.’ If I told him why it’s become urgent to me he’d promptly forget all about get t ing m marri arried ed and fuss me over tto o Engl England and himsel himself! f!”” Lou thought t hought , t reacherousl reacherously y, ‘I‘I could ttell ell hi him!’ m!’ And t hen shrugged t he idea aw away. ay. She held out a hand. “I’ll help you to your room. And if you want anything at all just ring the bedside bell. I’ll leave my own door open a few inches—and I shall be readi reading ng for an hour or t wo.” “Y “You’re ou’re goi going ng t o bed?” Mrs. Acland will willingl ingly y leaned upon Lou’s arm arm.. “It’s such a pit y t here’s so lit lit t le exci excitt ement for you. A fri friend end of mine iin n Engl England and has a daught er of your age and she ’s always dancing and disappearing disappearing on camping holi holidays days even in tthe he worst weat her! II’m ’m sur sure e you

dance well w ell,, but here you don’t have a chance even t o keep in pract ice. I shall tell Ross. Ross....” He came came into t he corri corridor dor from th the e st study, udy, t ook his aunt ’s ot other her elbow. “Yes? What will you t ell Ross?” “That this child must have more fun. She came in tonight looking as if she’d been chastised, and all because she’d had tto o find a lilitt t le exci excitt ement on her own in tthe he car. car.”” “We’ll do something about it,” Ross said abruptly. “I don’t like this slow gait of yours, Maudie. It’s not like you.”

 

“I don’t like it myself, dear,” she replied equably, “but it’s so pleasant to have you two solicito soli citous us tthat hat I shall probably keep iitt up for as long as possi possible. ble.”” She st ood in tthe he cent re of her room and disengaged her arms. a rms. “Y “You ou may leave me now now.. Are you going out , Ross?” “Out ? No. No.”” “I thought you mi might ght be goin going g t o play car cards ds with Mar Martt in. in.”” “You’re losing that light touch, darling,” he said, giving his aunt the benefit of his studied and relentless charm. “I have no dat e wit h t he Craddocks. Craddocks.”” He kissed her t emple, lilight ght ly ly.. “Goodnight, sleep well.” Lou and Mrs. Acland exchanged quiet goodnights and Lou came out of the room, leaving the door ajar. She had taken only a pace or two towards her own room when Ross came behind her and took her arm in fingers that bruised. “Let’s go back into the living-room, young Louise,” he said in a cool undertone. “I believe we have something somet hing tto o discuss. discuss.””

  CHAPTER EIGHT

Ross went to the window and looked out, flicked a speckled lizard from the sill and briefly inspected ins pected a bri bright ght green pr prayi aying ng mantis which cl clung ung t o t he edge of t he curtain. Lou saw t hat his faint smile was taut as steel; if she could have thought of something to say she would have hurried it out But the silence grew, till he performed the familiar action of digging his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the wall. He said, “Be nice if we could just be happy together, for a change, wouldn’t it? No knife-like glances, no smart remarks, no searching around for emotions where they don’t exist. I can’t remember when t his house was peacef peaceful. ul.”” “You can hardly hardly blam blame e me for t hat ” she said in llow ow t ones. “I didn’ didn’tt want t o come here any more mor e t han you want ed me. I real really ly don don’t ’t t hin hink k we have anyt hin hing g t o t alk abo about ut .” “No? I’m I’m your oldest ffriend riend iin n t hese part s. Wouldn’ Wouldn’tt you lilike ke t o confide in me—t me—tell ell me some of those magic details that led up to Greg’s eventual surrender? I thought every girl in love had to confide in someone.” “T hat hat’s ’s not shatt eri eringly ngly funny. funny.”” “It’s not meant t o be. I was merely iinviting nviting you t o have first t hrow, but if you decli decline ne I’ I’llll have it myself. Why did Greg ask you to marry him?” “Not very flattering, are you?”

“Maybe I don’t feel that way. What I really meant was—why did he ask you this evening, particularly? Surely we should have noticed something in the air, some subtle warning from cupid?”

 

‘You’ve ment ment ioned tthe he possibi possibililitt y before. before.”” “But I wouldn’t have thought it was imminent I know Greg. In his way he’s as unsettled as Elinor Weston and just as keen on grabbing an anchor, but he’s a man, and a man has to be  willing  will ing t o ttake ake responsi responsibil bility ity bef before ore he marri marries. es. Greg’ Greg’s s al always ways st stayed ayed cl clear ear of tties. ies.”” “So have you.” “But I’m not afraid of them.” A pause, then in metallic tones: “He’s had plenty of practice at love-making. How do you like his st yle?” She looked away from him. “Your opinion of Greg is lower than he deserves. He was simply kind and gent le. le.”” “T hen he means business. But you left it h hanging anging fire, didn’ didn’tt you?” “You seem to know everythi everyt hing!” ng!” “It was fairly obvious. Greg’s mulish fit was a damp squib because he wasn’t sure of your support.” A pause. “Why didn’t you tell him outright that you had no intention of marrying him?” Her lips quivered, as if stung by sudden pain. “Perhaps I was uncertain enough to want to think it over. One could do far worse than marry Greg Allwyn! He offered marriage because he t hought it w was as a way out for me ..... and Kei Keitt h. h.”” “If “If you leave K Keith eith out of it t here’ here’s s no need for t he marr marriag iage. e. Is t hat what you mean? mean?”” She smiled; it was a bright automatic movement of her mouth. “You can’t believe Greg is in love with wit h me, can you?” “Yes, I can beli believe eve it. Y You ou ’d be a llot ot less di diff fficul icultt t o love tthan han some of t he women he’s fallen for, and to him you have the advantage of being the dear little someone who sheltered him one night when he n needed eeded it it.. He’ He’s s gone t rite and t urned a new leaf. I may be a cynic, but I can’t quite take it from Greg.” “T hen why did you give hi him m a chance here at Mulera?” He shrugged. “I had not hing tto o lose. I had no manager and I knew Greg could do a good job if he had no distract dist ractions. ions. When I off offered ered him t he post t here were no women here at Mul Mulera, era, and I  wasn’t expect ing anyone but my aunt .” Her voice dipped sharply sharply.. “You always impl imply y t hat Greg iis s t he world world’s ’s most hardened philanderer, but I find it hard to believe. To me, he’s always been ordinary and friendly.” “Are you sure? Can you truthfully say that he’s never held your hand or given you a chaste kiss on the forehead?” His lips thinned suddenly into a smile that held a hint of cruelty. “Ah, I thought not. His routine is far more stale than it was when Beau Brummell used it. What do you suppose comes next? I’ll tell you. He keeps assuring you that he only wants to make you happy. happ y. H He e st rokes yo your ur hair. hair....” “Oh, stop it!” Lou gripped her hands tightly on the back of a chair. “You’re doing your best to cheapen everything Greg does, and I won’t listen. What if he has known lots of women? I’m certain you’ve you’ve known a good num number! ber! May Maybe be he hasn’ hasn’tt been so masterful with t hem but t hat hat’s ’s

 

not a bad thing. You can’t brand a man for life because he’s flirted a bit before wanting to settt le do set down. wn.”” He said savagely, ‘I don’t want to, but I’ll darned well see that he doesn’t hitch up with someone innocent as a babe! What do you know about marriage at all, let alone with someone like Greg? When you live close to a man the flaws are apt to show through. Believe me, basical basically ly,, Greg is a number of flaws pat ched t oget her her.. H He e ’s a born philanderer philanderer,, fundamentally selfish and fundamentally juvenile. This ... reformation began the night you took him in from the rain. He knows enough about women to realize you’re not the type he usually at t racts, so he becam became e what he hoped you want wanted. ed. Fo Forr a whil while e he may be abl able e t o keep it up, but if you were t o marry him t he mask would gradual gradually ly fall fall.. You’d find yourself ttied ied tto o a dilettante at forestry and farming ... and women!” “Would t he sort of man you’re descr describi ibing ng ever ttake ake on a wife, let alone a boy of ffive ive as well well?” ?” Ross came came away from tthe he wall, moved sl slowly owly ttowards owards t he cabinet ““He He m might ight ho honey, ney,”” he said, his voice sardonic and unpleasant. “Keith has a little money and you could be depended on to be thrifty and even to take a job if it became necessary. There are not many women who’ll do that in this country. In any case, if things got tough he could rat on you, just as he walked out on his first assignm assignment ent in Nyasal Nyasaland. and.”” There was no answer to this. Lou stood there, her knees trembling. She remembered how frank Greg had been about his own shortcomings, and in spite of herself she wondered  whet her he weren’t creat ing an ali alibi bi iin n advance. And then all conjecture and argument seemed futile. She wouldn’t marry Greg or anyone else. She was just using G Greg reg Allwyn as a weapon against Ross; it w was as t he only one she had. She heard clinking, felt a glass placed in her hand, took a sip of gin and orange and placed t he glass on tthe he t able. Ross drank hal halff his whisky, rocked tthe he amber lliqui iquid d for a moment before asking, wit with h decept ive casual casualness, ness, “Why did you go out in the car at that hour, Louise?” She had expected it to be his first question and had been half prepared with an answer. Now, though, it caught her off-balance. She t ried ried t he drink again, said as coolly as she could, “I felt a bit low and I hadn’t driven a car for som some e t im ime. e.”” “T hose sc scratches ratches cm t he wing— wing—what what was iitt , a tthorn horn tree?” “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know you take a pride in keeping the vehicles free of that kind of t hing. hing.”” “I’m not angry over the marks themselves; they can be obliterated. I merely want to know exactly how they were caused. You see,” he said slowly, “I put the car away and took a look at them by torchlight I’ve yet to meet thorn branches that won’t bend and make curved scratches. Those on the wing of the car are absolutely straight and parallel and there’s a slight dent in the middle of tthem. hem.”” He paused and asked soft ly, heavil heavily, y, “A t horn ttree?” ree?” She looked looked down at her fingers. “No, I caught t he side of t he jeep. jeep.”” “How?” he shot shot at her her.. “I’m “I’m not quit quite e sure. I wasn’t t hinki hinking ng very clearl clearly. y. It was my ffault ault,, not Greg’ Greg’s. s. My fault ent irel irely. y.””

 

“T hat car packs fort forty y horse-power,” he said grim grimly, ly, “and you w were ere mad enough tto o driv drive e it an and d t hink about somet something hing el else. se. Where di did d you go?” She took a dry breath past the ridge in her throat "Not far. Only ten or twelve miles. Ross, I’ve said I’m sorry...”

Her voice caught, and Ross clamped down on whatever he had been about to say. He shoved his his gla glass ss down on t he t abl able e wit with h a sli slight ght t hud. “Y “You’d ou’d bet t er go t o bed,” he said. “I’ll “I’ll deal wit with h Greg in tthe he morning. morning.”” “Need you? I’d rat rather her t alk tto o him mysel myself. f.”” “Why?” he asked sourly sourly.. “Because he hasn’t hurt me, and I don’t want to hurt him. His proposal is my business—not yours.” “You’re too soft-hearted and fearful,” he told her impatiently. “I never knew anyone so much in need of a man!” A little color came into her cheeks, and a swift throbbing was visible in the hollow of her throat. She put a hand to the gold-brown hair and the action helped her past the moment of stress. She managed to move sensitive lips in a smile, and as she stood there, slender and sweet in the si simpl mple e frock, t here was something unt untouched ouched about her her,, a qu quali alitt y t hat al almost most any man would recognize as rare. “Go t o bed, L Louise, ouise,”” he said abrupt abruptly. ly. “You won’ w on’tt act hastily wi witt h Gr Greg?” eg?” she plea pleaded. ded. “I’ll think about it” “Please don’t hurt him any more. It’s generally hurt that starts people on a peculiar way of living, living, and I do know t hat Greg wasn’t happy as a boy. boy.”” “For Pete’s sake!” His eyes had a warning glitter as they looked at her. “If you’re in love with the chap you’d better fall out again pretty quick. If it’s only pity, save it for a more worthy object. And now for the love of heaven will you go to bed. You look as if you need someone to put you t her here!” e!” She moved t owards t he door door.. “Y “You’re ou’re so tterri erribly bly difficult t o speak tto, o, so iint nt olerant. Sometimes, I’ve wondered what on earth I could do if...” He was looking at her pleading eyes, and after a second or two he softened slightly. “Why don’tt you com don’ come e t o me frankl frankly y, and let ’s talk t hin hings gs over? Anyt Anything hing woul would d be bet t er tthan han t o have you seriously considering tying yourself to a chap like Greg Allwyn.” He paused, and added non-committ non-commit t all ally y , “If iitt ’s full c charge harge of Kei Keitt h tthat hat you’re aft er er,, you you’l’lll have tto o find a different type from Greg.” She said, tiredly, “I suppose so far we haven’t done badly. Keith hasn’t the least idea that you and I are at loggerheads. loggerheads.”” “We’re not—not about his upbringing; we’ve almost become adjusted.” His mouth pulled in,

 

sarcast sarc ast ically. “Ideal “Ideally ly,, I suppose, we should have marr married ied each ot her her.. B But ut t hen it t akes something more than someone else’s child to bring a couple together, and we’d never quite trust each other, would we? At least, I’d never trust you—you’re so keen on keeping the boy that you’ve even considered hooking up with a weak character like Greg! So we’ll have to find some other solution, won’t we?” Somehow, Som ehow, L Lou ou kept her ttones ones lilight ght . “Are “A re you sure y you ou haven’t already found one?” “That’s clever of you, Louise,” he said offhandedly. “We’ll go into it some other time.” He opened the t he door and stood t here, al aloof oof and poli politt e. “See tthat hat your wi windows ndows are fast fast—t —there’ here’s sa  wind gett get t ing up. Goodnight.” Baffled and hurt, Lou went to her room. She undressed and stood at the window in her

pyjamas. The moon was gone and the breeze was stronger, whipping away the sweet, lonely song of a bird in the trees. Nearby, a disgruntled shrike berated its mate and something scutt led over the grass. A window banged, and she lilist st ened t o make sure th that at it w was as not Kei Keitt h ’s. No, it was in El Elinor’ inor’s s room, straight across the corridor. It banged again, and Lou frowned, wishing Elinor would secure the bar before the noise could waken the boy or Mrs. Acland. There was a silence, and then another thud. Lou slipped her arms into her tailored silk dressing-gown and opened the door. She rapped on Eli Elinor’s nor’s door, received no reply and went into t he room. It was in darkness, except for the starlit square of window. The curtains billowed, the window grated and swung. Lou went over and pegged the bar, turned and saw that Elinor was dragging back the mosquito net. The bedside lamp flowered suddenly, and Elinor was visible, leaning leani ng back into h her er pi pillllows ows wit h one hand pushing at t he reddish hai hair. r. “Hallo, “Hall o,”” she said daz dazedly. edly. “Want somet something?” hing?” “T he window wasn’ wasn’tt fast ened. Didn’t Didn’t you hear iitt ?” “I was heavily asleep—the brandy, I guess. My first drink for months. Sorry the noise woke you.” “It didn’t. didn’t . I was just going tto o bed. bed.”” Lou moved as iiff t o leave her her,, but she was held t here by tthe he look in Elinor’s eyes. It was a dull, hopeless look. “Can I get you something?” “Sure,”” flippant “Sure, flippantly. ly. “Get me anot her brandy. brandy.”” “Do you mean it?” Elinor Elinor shook her head. “No. Sit Sit down and t alk tto o me for a b bit.” it.” From Elinor, this was an unusual request. Lou sank into a cushioned wicker chair about a yard from the t he bed, and drew her gown about her knees. “What shal shalll we talk abo about ut?” ?” “Me. I’m leaving Mulera.” “Soon? When did you decide?” de cide?” “It’s crept up on me. I shouldn’t have come here, really, but I did have a sort of hope that I’d

 

find the answer to one or two things. Seems there isn’t any answer. Keith doesn’t care for me...” “He does like you. Children naturally fight shy of unhappy people, but if you were happy with him I’m I’m sure he’d love you. Where w will ill you go?” g o?” “I’m not sure. This is my first visit to Africa—there’s plenty I haven’t seen. I might get to the coast and find a post of some some sort.” Lou said said gent gently, ly, “Do you st ill ill feel you can’ can’tt set settt le here?” Elinor reached for the inevitable cigarette. “Want one?” When Lou had declined she lit up for herself and blew smoke. “I’m “I’m finished with t he East East—I —I’m ’m sure of t hat . But set t le? II’ve ’ve reached a point where I can’t settle without a good reason for it. I thought Keith might be an excellent reason, but I reali realiz z e now t hat t hough he mi might ght be good for me, I’d be bad for him. I’d let mysel myselff dote on him because I’ve nothing else. Besides, he’d miss his father more with me than if he stays with Ross.” “Surely you’ll you ’ll marry some t ime, Eli Elinor?” nor?”

She shook her head, looked at the grey tip of her cigarette. I ve given up even thinking it might be poss possible. ible. I don’t know why it is, but since II’v ’ve e ... mat ured, I go ffor or men like Mart in Craddock.”” Her smil Craddock. smile e was resigned and wit hout humor humor.. “Don’ “Don’tt worry; I’m not in love wit with h Mart Martin in Craddock, but he’s the steadfast, true-blue type that my stupid, wandering soul seems to fasten on to. It’s understandable, I suppose. Thirty-two isn’t such a vast age that you don’t occasionally occasional ly feel tthe he need t o lean upon someone. someone.”” “Oh, Elinor.” And for a moment Lou could say no more. She watched the thin face, the long nervous fingers. T hey revealed far more t han Eli Elinor nor could have know known. n. Lou said, “Why can’t you set t le somewhere near here so that you could often see Keith? Martin would be only too happy to have you as a ffriend. riend.”” “Come off it, Lou.” Elinor squashed out the half-smoked cigarette. “Martin Craddock couldn’t all allow ow himself t o be involved wit h someone like me. Besi Besides, des, he has a woman in Z omba—didn’ omba—didn’tt you know?” “Good heavens, no!” “She’s the widow of a government man—very top-drawer. The man died about eighteen months ago, and she went to England. I believe Martin wrote to her but gave up hope, because she didn’t answer his letters. But apparently the woman decided to give them both plenty plent y of t im ime. e. Anyway, she ar arri rived ved in Zomba about t he same ttim ime e t hat I arri arrived ved here.” here.” “How do you know all t his?” Elinor shrugged. “We’ve talked—Martin and I. It’s odd, but I believe I understand that ... that ot her man in S Singapore ingapore far bett er since since II’ve ’ve t alked a lilitt t le w wit ith h Martin. Martin.”” She sighed, philosophically despondent “What a mess life can become. For goodness’ sake get married  while you’re young, Lou. As you grow older you find yourself looki looking ng for a cert certain ain t ype—and they’re always rare!” After a silence Lou said, “Don’t do anything in a hurry ... please! Ross doesn’t want you to

 

leave, and it it’s ’s possi possible ble tthan han he might help you tto o find a post in N Nyasaland. yasaland. You can’t be Keith Keith’s ’s guardian, but I hate the idea of your leaving him entirely.” She hesitated, and said softly, “He’s like Dick, Dick, iisn’t sn’t he?” “Very much,” Elinor nodded broodingly. “I’d like him to grow up that way—but he wouldn’t if he lived with me. I’m too much of a failure.” “I don’t believe it. For a woman alone I think you’ve done wonderful things during the past eightt years eigh years!” !” “As a matter of fact,” Elinor said with the jaded smile, “I do far better on my own, these days. When you’ve no one t o mull over your ttroubles roubles with you don’t t hink about t hem. In Chekwe, II’ve ’ve committ t ed t he cardinal iindiscretion commi ndiscretion for a w woman oman of my background; perhaps because II’ve ’ve kept my own counsel for a long, long time I now find that having spilled a little, I carry on unburdening myself.” “That’s good. It’s cathartic.” “Maybe, to an extent.” Elinor’s smile lost the worn look. “It’s nice to have someone here who genuinely wants me to stay. I won’t, I’m afraid, but I do appreciate it. Perhaps I’ll come back some tim t ime, e, but I feel I must get away soon—w soon—wit ithin hin a few days.” days.” Lou got reluctantly to her feet. She asked tentatively, “Would you have stayed if Martin Craddock hadn’t t old you about his ..... his own private h hopes?” opes?” “Now you’re being girlish. I’m far too shopworn to have fallen suddenly in love with your District Commissioner. I’m going because my reason for coming has fallen away. I’m not giving

up my claim to Keith, because I never really had one. In any case, he ll be happier with Ross and Paula; t hey’ll give him a balanced childhoo childhood. d.”” Lou found herself nodding automatically and moving towards the door. She envied Elinor’s subjective subject ive out outlook. look. “I hope t he wind w won’t on’t keep you aw awake. ake. Goodnight, E Elilinor. nor.”” The easiest way to forget one’s own problems for a while is to shoulder someone else’s. After that brief conversation with Elinor, Lou felt a compulsion to do what she could for her, yet it was diffic difficult ult t o work out how t o act act.. T here was no si sign gn of Greg tthe he foll following owing m morni orning, ng, but he had obviously worked as usual, for when Ross came in at lunch-time he said he would be free all aft ernoon, and t hat he had invited Paula and Martin for t ea. Martin, it seemed, was due ffor or a  week of offici off icial al business in Z omba, and young P Pet et er Whyte wou would ld have tto o carr carry y on iin n Chekwe. As four o’clock approached, Lou was surprisingly calm. She put on the powder-blue blouse and a white skirt, looking young and vulnerable as she helped Ali prepare the large tea trolley, and wheeled it close to the french window. It was still too windy to eat outdoors, but the  window was pegged open and let let in only a breeze, which stirred the heavy curt curtains ains and ri rippled ppled over the white w hite mosqui mosquitt o net t ing whi which ch cover covered ed t he t rol rolley ley.. Mrs. Acland sewed, a gentle smile on her lips. Elinor lounged in her usual uncaring fashion, and she had not bothered to change from the faded silk she had donned this morning. Ross looked big and handsome, in off-white linen slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt that lay open at the neck, showing his teak-brown throat. When Martin’s car slid round the drive, he  went down t o meet t he ttwo wo Craddocks. The three of them came in, Paula looking like a beautiful and rare delphinium between the t wo brow brown n men. She smi smiled led sweet ly at Mrs. Acland, bent and kissed her llight ightly ly on tthe he cheek.

 

“Dear Aunt Maud. What a pity you can’t st ay here wi witt h us al always!” ways!” Mrs. Acland patted the coral-tipped fingers. “It’s one of my greatest regrets—especially this year.”” Her meani year. meaning ng glance w was as almost pleading as she t urned t o Ross. “My dear, t here’s not hing makes me happi happier er tthan han t o be here w with ith you and Paula and everyone else, lilike ke t his. But I think that in the future you will have to transfer to England for a couple of months, instead. Not that there’s anything wrong with me,” she added hastily. “It’s simply that I long to be your host ess, for a chang change. e. Paul Paula, a, how is t hat place of yours in Hampshi Hampshire re going along tthese hese days?” “From all accounts, very well,” was the airy reply. “Jim Mordaunt, who manages the whole t hing for me, is a wi wiz z ard. He act actuall ually y makes the est at e pay its w way. ay.”” “Jim’ “Ji m’s s quit quite e a fellow, fellow,”” comment ed Ross. “He ought t o have a place of his own.” Martin wrinkled his his nose at his si sist ster er.. “He wouldn’ wouldn’tt put so much heart into it Jim hur hurls ls hi himsel mselff into the job because that’s what Paula demands of him.” “Darling, you make me sound so und like a slaveslave-driver. driver. I’m fond of Ji Jim. m.”” “So you should be. He makes possible those glamorous jewels you wear.” He turned to Lou. “Well, my chil child—and d—and ho how w are you? You look t ired. ired.”” Paula, from her chair beside Mrs. Acland, smiled sharply “You’re overdoing the fatherly act Martin. Lou iis s merel merely y discover discovering ing tthat hat t he cli climat mate e of Mulera doesn’t suit everyone. everyone.”” Ross slid a glance over Lou’s face as she bent towards the trolley and removed the net. “Been playing with Keith?” he asked. “No. He’s absorbed in those crocodile eggs. He swears one of them moved when he looked into the box this morning, and he only leaves them for long enough to swallow a little food. He doesn’t even answer when you speak t o him him..” Martin laughed. “That shows how high we rate in a child’s esteem. He’d swop the lot of us for a crocodile egg.”

He went on speaking, easily, while Lou poured the tea, and Ross, in his unerringly deft fashion, handed the cups. She saw Martin in a new light—as a man who at last realized domestic happiness was within his grasp. No wonder he had been so kind and understanding to Elinor; no doubt he felt he must share the cautious happiness that was seeping into him. Lou felt so pleased for him that she would have liked to tell him that she understood his feelings. But he didn’t need understanding from Lou Prentice. Tomorrow he would leave for a  week in Zomba, Z omba, and when he ret returned urned he would probably announce his fort forthcoming hcoming m marri arriage. age. T hank heav heaven, en, she thought sober soberly ly,, t hat at le least ast one of us iis s gett ing what he want wants. s. T hey chat t ed and laughed, Ali wheeled away t he t roll rolley ey and Elinor Elinor excused her herself self and went to her room. Mrs. Acland decided to rest for a while, but Lou’s normal offer of assistance was forestalled by Paula, who ignored Lou and sprang up, affectionately giving the older woman her arm. “Let me hel help p you for once, Aunt Maud. I want a lilitt t le chat w with ith you, anyway anyway,, if you ’r ’re e not t oo tired.” “Of course I’m not, dear, but I do find it helps if I rest my back fairly often. We’ll talk in my room.”

 

When t hey had gone, Lou st ood hovering near th the e french window. But Ross said, “Come “Come and sit down, dow n, Loui Louise. se. You’re about as rest restful ful as tthe he wind out t here. Have a ci cigaret garettt e.” e.” She held it to the flame he offered, felt his fingers brush hers as he withdrew the lighter. The ci cigarett garett e t asted horr horrid, id, but she smo smoked ked it and looked away from the men, at t he blowi blowing ng t rees in the garde garden. n. Pe Pett als fl flashed ashed by by,, t hen an angry bi bird rd tthat hat hat hated ed being llift ifted ed by anyt anythin hing g but its own volition. The men talked about an accident which had happened in the darkness on the  wind-t ossed Lake, about t he cot t on t hat should be picked as soon as possibl possible, e, about an African court case which promised to hit the headlines. T hen Martin sai said d quietly, “Deci “Decided ded what t o do about your aunt, R Ross?” oss?” Ross nodded. “I think so. I’m sending her home. She doesn’t complain but it’s obvious she  won’t be t horoughly well while she’s here. But I don’t want her t o t ravel home alone. alone.”” He sounded impatient as he added, “Nothing moves quickly when you want it to. I’d like to take Maud to t o England m myself, yself, but I’m so t ied tthat hat I’m afrai afraid d it won’t be possibl possible. e.”” “Have you t hought of aski asking ng E Elilinor nor We West ston on tto o ttake ake iitt on?” “Yes. It would be the best way of paying her fare; she’s too darned proud to accept it for nothing.” Lou looked round at the men quickly. “I don’t think Elinor wants to go to England. I was hoping someone would think t hink of some way of keeping her here. here.”” Martin leaned forward, his rugged face kind and smiling. “That’s what we’ve been doing,” he said. “She told me a week ago that she couldn’t stay another day, and Ross persuaded her to relax for a bit .” “Y “You ou did?” said Lou sl slowly, owly, looki looking ng at Ross. “Why should you wan wantt her tto o st ay?” But Ross apparently had become intolerant of the subject. “Both Martin and I had what we hoped was a good reason but it’s gradually fading out. We’ll give it a few more days, and after t hat we’ll come tto o a decisi decision. on. What ’s iitt t o you, young Loui Louise?” se?” “I’d like like El Elinor inor t o be h happy.” appy.” “Oh, sure, you’d like everyone to be happy. I suggest you concentrate on yourself for a change.”

I m tired of myself. Martin was alarmed. “That’s no way to be, at your age! I was hoping you’d found someone in Greg Allwyn Allwyn w who’d ho’d make you happy for t he rest of your life. life.”” Lou went scarlet. Ross llooked ooked coldly sat satiri irical. cal. “I forgot forgot t o t ell you, Mar Martt in. All Allwyn wyn doesn’t want t o st ay aft er hi his s t hree mo mont nt hs’ trial trial.. I t hought he wouldn’ wo uldn’tt .” “What will you do?” “Get hold of a young llearner earner-planter. -planter. T hey’ hey’re re al always ways earnes earnestt and st stay ay for at lea least st t wo years.

 

If I get a good one, I’ll ’ll cut him a share of t he plant plantat at ion tto o keep him. It ’s the only way. way.”” But Mart in rret et urned tto o his fir first st query. “Why are you t ired of yourself, yourself, Lou?” T hey wait waited ed for her reply reply,, Martin concernedly, and Ross with t hat dark iint nt ent look iin n his eyes. She wishe wished d tto o heaven she hadn’ hadn’tt made t he stat ement. “I suppose I feel useless and ineffectual,” she said, “and I do like to have a glimpse of the foreseeable future.” “Why should you worry about the future?” put in Ross. “Let things move at their own pace. You’ll be t aken care of.” “I don’ don’tt want t o be ttaken aken car care e of. of.”” “Y “Yes, es, you do, do,”” he said caust ical ically. ly. “Y “You ou want a good many t hings you’ you’re re not aware of of..” “And one or two things I am am   aware of!” she ret returned. urned. “I want a job llike ike tthe he one I left in England, Engl and, and I want t o be ffree. ree.”” Ross was unmoved. He shrugged. “They’re screaming out for teachers all over the place. And no on one e is free free,, my child. child.”” “No one except Ross G Gililmore?” more?” she demanded. “Even I,” he said with a maddening smile, “am no exception. For years I’ve let Mulera run my life. I’ve decided to put an end to it but when I do there’ll be something—or someone—else I’ll have to consider. I wouldn’t want things any different.” Martin looked pleased. “Glad to hear you speak like that old chap. It’s a welcome change. About Elinor Elinor Weston—I mi might ght be able tto o fix her up wit h a post while II’m ’m in Zomba.” Ross gave him a cool half-wink. “You’l “Y ou’lll have enough t o do ffixi ixing ng up for yourself. I st stililll feel we ought t o wait a w whil hile. e.”” “Wait for what?” asked Lou, a little vexed. “Elinor’s capable of packing up and leaving within an hour or t wo, iiff she decides on it it..” “I’ll deal with it, little one. Just think about yourself for a change. Let things slide, and stop going overboard for every man who looks as if he might be willing to take on Keith as well as a  wife.” Martin’s eyes widened, but before he could comment, Lou said angrily, “Go on, Mr. Gilmore, tell the world! One of these days I’ll be able to say to you exactly what I think. It’ll be a field day!” “Come now,” Ross said, mockingly. “You’re a young and normally lighthearted person; your dearest wish is to see everyone happy—we all know that. Surely you’d like me to be happy

too? Lou felt as if she had swallowed an ice cube. She had known for some time that there was nothin not hing g she want ed mor more e despera desperatt ely than Ross’ ha happi ppiness, ness, but she had also known tthat hat his capacity happinessmore and the quality ofmore it thatshrewd he needed of any other He  was morefor demanding, possessive, aboutwere suchunlike t hingsthat t han otmen. her man

 

she had ever known; she was sure of it it.. Perhaps it w Perhaps was as fort fortunat unate e t hat Pa Paula ula cam came e back jus justt t hen. Ros Ross s saw her seat seated, ed, asked iiff his aunt had gone to bed. Paula nodded her ash-blonde head and turned upon him a softened blue glance. “She’s all right, darling—j darling—just ust a lilitt t le ttoo oo old for t he sudden change in cli climat mate. e. She says she feels fine. fine.”” Just a little. Lou was glad that Mrs. Acland had told no one else about that slight heart attack in England; it made her own relationship with Ross’ aunt a shade more intimate than anyone else’ else’s—even s—even Ross. “Still, I don’t like keeping her here,” he said. “I may take a week off soon, and fly over to England. She might have that empty cottage on your estate for a while, Paula.” “Well, I...” The faint protest died, and Paula smiled again. “I did tell Jim Mordaunt he could have his mother there, more or less permanently, but I’m sure it could be arranged for Aunt Maud to take it for a few months, though I doubt if she’ll care to leave her flat. We’ll see, anyway.” She slanted a look at Lou. “Our young friend appears to be a trifle upset. What have you been talk t alking ing abo about ut?” ?” “Not hing very dist disturbing. urbing. Louise can feel unset unsettt led for ot other her people. people.”” “But for herself, too,” said Paula sweetly, and with a pointedness that Lou could not ignore. “I’ve thought several times that she must be disappointingly in love.” Ross spoke with crisp incisiveness. “You’ve got it wrong, Paula. Louise isn’t in love—she’s simply sim ply ttryi rying ng very hard and ffindi inding ng it awf awfull ully y exhaust ing. Care for a st roll roll?” ?” “It’s still very windy.” “We’ll make it a drive, then.” He was standing, looking down at Martin with an arrogant smile. “I’ll “I’ll event eventuall ually y t ake Paula home, Martin. S Stt ay w with ith Loui Louise se ffor or an hour. She’ She’s s a bit blue. blue.”” Lou’s vexation cooled, the anxiety Paula roused lost importance. She lay back in her chair and conversed with Martin Craddock, thought how peaceful it would be to love and be loved by such a man. When, some time later, he rose to leave her, she realized that for at least fift een minute minutes s she had pushed Ross and Paula well back int into o her mi mind. nd. For the three days, of little happened. Martin wentstayed off to on Zomba, the and Ross in hand building a new shed. Greg either the job or wind in hisdied, bungalow, and put apart from a brief note in which he reiterated that he still wanted to marry her, Lou had no contact  wit h him. She wrot e back h her er t hanks and regret regrets, s, hoped he would ffix ix up in a g good ood post when his trial term was over. In the house, the constraint was noticeable only to Lou’s highly sensitive mind; at least, that  was her impr impression. ession. Mrs. Acland was gent le and busy wit with h her e embroi mbroidery dery,, El Elinor inor smoked and looked up old copies of the Central African newspapers for clues to the business opportunities and Keit Keit h lost int eres erestt in the croc crocodi odile le eggs and ask asked ed whet her he coul couldn’ dn’tt go over tto o see Mr Mr.. Gi Gilchr lchrist ist again. Ross, a lilitt t le im impat pat ient iently, ly, t old him he must wait . Lou said said t ent at ivel ively, y, “I coul could d t ake him, if you’l you’lll trust t rust me wit with h t he car again. again.”” Ross looked dour dour.. “You can use it; I haven haven’t ’t h had ad t im ime e t o get it repaired yet yet..” Which,

 

presumably, was meant to imply that he wouldn’t be surprised if she scratched the other wing, and repairs might as well wait till it had happened. She flashed him a glance of hate, which he returned glossed over with ice. If anything, the atmosphere between them became more brittle. But next morning Lou started out with Keith in the car. The air was cool and fresh and the glimpses of the Lake showed the crystal perfection of the morning. It was a day freshly-made and innocent, and Keith burbled cheerfully about the Gilchrist house and its nature reserve garden. T hey found t he t hat hatched ched dwell dwelling ing and tthe he ret retir ired ed mi mililitt ary man who had encl enclosed osed t wo hundred acres of his land in order to rear antelope and zebra, wildebeeste and many smaller species of game. They drove into the reserve and stopped at the river, where a sated lizard, four feet long, lay across a stone and idly watched the gauzy red insects and watersnakes and outsize spiders. From the opposite bank another hippo and her baby plodded into the river and cavorted, and during the silences there were other furtive and distant splashings. Crocodile and lizards, liz ards, Mr Mr.. Gil Gilchrist christ explained. The heat, in that jungle enclosure, was exhausting. The man drove them back to his house and gave them fruit drinks piled high with ice, and then he saw them into the car, bade them come again again and waved t hem off. Keith dozed on the way home. Lou drove at moderate speed and wished she could stay out all day. More than anything she was in need of a day of unblemished tranquillity. Yet she was longing for something to happen. As it t urned ou outt , t he rest of t he day was mor more e t han mi mildl ldly y di dist sturbi urbing. ng. She left the car under its usual wide tree, took Keith’s hand and went indoors with him. They  washed t oget her in t he b bat at hroom, and Kei Keitt h decided he w would ould prefer t o eat in t he kit chen, iiff no one minded. Lou saw him seated near the fan, watched him start on Scotch eggs and grilled tomatoes, and then made her way to the living-room. Ross was there, taking a drink. He poured something for Lou and gave it to her. He looked across at Elinor, who was smoking and drinking lemonade near the open french door, said offhandedly, “My aunt is having lunch in her room. I think I’ll have mine in the study. Excuse me?” Elinor Elinor lift lifted ed her sho shoulders. ulders. “Why shouldn’t we all spread t hrough t he house? Would you rather rat her eat alone, Lou?” “I’m not hungry.” “Nor I.” “Then I’ll stay and make you eat,” said Ross savagely. “I’m damned if I’ll have a couple of starving women on my hands!” Elinor Eli nor looked surprised. L Lou ou hu hurriedly rriedly drank from h her er glass. “It was terribly hot in the nature reserve,” she said. “I’m sorry if...” He gestured gest ured tto o cut her short “ Rel Relax, ax, for heaven’s sake. Where’s Kei Keitt h?” “He’s eating in the kitchen.”

 

“Then we’d better...” He stopped and list listened ened tto o t he crunc crunchin hing g sound of a car on t he grave gravel, l, st strode rode acr across oss tto o t he

 window which w hich gave a vi view ew of t he drive. Lou wat ched him him,, saw him stare int ent ly ly,, cast a glance back into the room and then walk out into the porch. She heard him speaking, and the voice of anot her man, and for some reason she t urned and gaz gazed ed at El Elinor inor.. El Elinor inor,, who w was as dead w whit hite e and very st st ill, ill, ci cigarett garett e crum crumple pled d so t igh ightt ly iint nto o her fis fistt t hat she di did d not feel the burn. They came in, Ross and a slenderly-built man of thirty-eight or forty. Lou transferred her st stare are tto o t he t igh ightt , t eak-brown face, saw t he greeni greenish-hazel sh-hazel eyes focus sharpl sharply y upon El Elinor inor a as s Ross spoke to her. “Friend of yours, it seems—a Mr. Randall,” he said suavely. “Traced you here, all the way from Hong Kong. Kong.”” Elinor hadn’t moved and she wasn’t even looking at the newcomer, she looked as stiff and disjointed as a figure strung by wires. Mr. Randall’s teeth were obviously very tightly clamped, but ot herwi herwise se he gave not nothin hing g away. Ross spoke again. “Help yourself to a drink, Randall. I’m sure you and Elinor have things to say t o each ot her. Come al along, ong, Loui Louise. se. We’l We’lll lunch lunch in my st study udy aft er all all—t —t he t wo of us. us.”” Dazedly, Lou felt her arm gripped, her whole bo Dazedly, body dy guided ffrom rom tthe he room. Coul Could d t his vis visit itor or be an answer to t o her long longing ing for som somet ething hing to happen?

  CHAPTER NINE

The man in travel-creased khaki drill stood there for some moments before he permitted himself to speak. Then he pressed a hand over darkish hair which was streaked here and t here wit with h grey, lift lift ed a rat rather her rugged-looking chi chin n and said, his voi voice ce uneven wit with h emot emotion. ion. “I had to come, Elinor. It’s been a long time, but I’ve found you.” By now, Elinor was completely in command of herself. She dropped the crushed cigarette into an ashtray, wiped her hands with a handkerchief. Whatever the strain she might be feeling, none of it showed in her cool halfhalf-smi smile. le. “You’re a long way from Singapore, George.” “A long way.” He paused, looked drowningly at the tray holding bottles and glasses. “Do you mind if I avail myself of Gilmore’s offer of a drink?” “Why should I?” “Please, Elinor. Don’t sound so uncompromising. You haven’t called me anything that I haven’t called myself during the past months. You didn’t give me time to take things in.” “Have your drink, George. George.””

 

He poured, doggedly, took a glass faced her. He leaned forwa forward, rd, half earnest earnestly. ly. of whisky at a gulp and came to sit on a chair that “Y “You ou shouldn’t have run awa away, y, Elinor. Elinor. If you’d given me just a few days!” “Would that have made things any better? You were shocked to discover that I’d been dishonest...” “Don’t!” He swallowed, audibly. “If only I could explain how I felt that evening. I’d been on top of myself all day because I’d decided to wait no longer before asking you to marry me. You ... cared for me; I did know t hat , Elinor Elinor ..... has it ever occurred t o you, si since nce t hen, that you t old me

in the most brutal way you possibly could? You didn’t wrap it up or even lead up to it. You slapped it at me at t he very moment of .. .... well. well....” “I’m sorry,” she said coldly, “but it was the only way I could tell you. I wanted your natural reaction, not something I’d nursed along. You were disgusted and I don’t blame you. After that I couldn’ couldn’tt st stay ay in S Singapore. ingapore. I got out t he very next aft ernoon. ernoon.”” “I know. I learned it the following day, when I found your apartment already occupied by someone else. I was frantic and did my best to trace you, but you hadn’t left by any of the normal routes.” “I did it the cheap way—got the job of driving some children to a mission up-country. After t hat I kicked ar around ound for a bit before making ttracks racks by easy s stt ages t o Hong K Kong. ong.”” “I did did ttrace race you tthere here event eventuall ually, y, but I was t oo lat late. e. You’d left for Nyasal Nyasaland. and. If you hadn’t t old me about your broth brother er here I mi might ght never have caught up wit h you. you.”” “Perhaps “Perh aps t hat would have been bes bestt .” He looked looked at t he sharp lline ines s of her face, at t he st strange rangely ly opa opaque que eyes; t hen he not ic iced ed t hat her hands were w ere clenched on t he arms of her chair, and his whole expression soft ened. “Will you list list en t o me? I do deserve a hearing. hearing.”” “There’s quite a lot.” He drew in his lip, and his eyes had the troubled dryness of a man who has not slept well for some time. “I was shocked at what you told me—I admit it I turned away from you and walked out I roamed the streets for several hours and then went home. The jolt  was unbearable, and for a couple of days I couldn’t work or t hink very clearly clearly,, but I knew on one e t hing—I st stililll want ed t o marr marry y you. you.”” “That was awfully noble, George. What sort of marriage would it have been?” “You’ve been hurt,” he said gently, “and it’s natural that you should take it out on me, because I deepened that hurt, terribly. I haven’t forgiven myself for it but I’m going to ask you to forgive me. Before I go any further, will you marry me, Elinor?” “No,” she said flatly, looking out of the french window at the gardenias. “You loved me once and you pit pit y me now. You ’ll ’ll s spend pend t he whole of your mar married ried lilife fe regret t ing tha thatt I was not as other women but forgiving and cherishing me in spite of it. Your intentions are lofty, but I couldn’t live wit wit h t hem. hem.”” She reached for her cigarettes and he struck a match for her, watching her with puzzled intensity. Patently, he was not a man who knew a great deal about handling emotions,  whet her his own or anot another’s; her’s; maybe t hat was one reason why Eli Elinor’s nor’s confession back t here

 

in Singapore had shaken him so badly. Another reason, of course, was his own age and integrity; it had taken him several days to accept the fact that the woman he had placed above all others othe rs had once sli slipped pped low in an endeavour t o marry spectacularly. “You have to believe me, Elinor,” he said stubbornly. “Because you disappeared I’ve had a long time for reflections. And I’ve kicked myself a thousand times a day. We’ve never talked about it—you realize that?” “T alk alkin ing g won’t obli oblitt erate t he past. past.”” “It can make it unimportant. That mistake you made—it was youthful and in a way understandable. You were feverish to get what you wanted, and in your own mind it was borrowing, not taking. If you made the marriage you were after you’d have repaid your father over and over again—that was how you regarded it. But your father was strait-laced, and he t hought t oo much of money money.. If you ’d sto stolen len someone el else’s se’s husband or t heir honor honor,, you you’d ’d have got away with it. But it was the great god, Money, and the fact that you’d lightheartedly lifted some of your father’s to buy stunning frocks was too much for him. It’s strange how much

money matters to some people. She flashed him an unreadable glance. “Don’t forget that I did it because I hoped to marry someone rich and til t iltt ed. ed.”” “But you al also so t hought you were iin n lov love e wit with h t he man. man.”” “I suppose I did.” She drew at her cigarette, knocked ash from its tip. “I don’t believe he noticed that I didn’t turn up for that week in the country, and he married about three months later.” “Y “You ou were punished tthen. hen. Why do you go on punishi punishing ng yourself now?” “After only a year or so away from England I wanted to go back, but I daren’t. If Dick had remained remai ned t here I mi might ght have t ried ried it but he marri married ed and came here, so I went on wande wanderi ring ng and  working.”  working.” He said said quiet quietly, ly, “A “And nd t hen you met me. me.”” “That’s right. If I’d been honest with you at the beginning you would gracefully have dropped away. aw ay. S So o I wasn’t .” “Because you found you ... cared for me?” Her tone became hard and flippant “I liked you, George, and it was good to be treated as the person I was then—a woman earning her own living in the East. It took quite a bit of courage to tell you about myself that evening you proposed, and I wasn’t surprised at your reaction.” “I’ve “I’ve never regret regrettt ed anyt hing so much in m my y lilife,” fe,” he said. “During tthe he past mont months hs II’ve ’ve hardly thought of your confession. All I wanted was the find you again. That shows the impact  wasn’t much mor more e t han moment momentary ary.. Elinor Elinor,” ,” he laid a hand over hers on t he arm of her chair chair,, “I  want t o marry you. I want it more t han a anyt nyt hing in t he w world. orld. I want t o make up t o you for a allll the empty years, and for the unhappiness I’ve caused you myself. What you are is what your experiences have made you—that’s what I fell in love with. We’re not children, my dear, but  we’re still young enough tto o create a bright new shining world world for oursel ourselves. ves.”” She dropped the cigarette into the ashtray, flicked jerkily at the grains of ash on her skirt.

 

Then she humbled herself to a point she had never thought possible; her head slipped down sideways, till her cheek lay on the hand which covered her own. George Randall let out a deep breath of relief, and gently stroked the reddish hair. In t he st study udy,, t he scene was rather different . T he room was t oo smal small, l, t hought Lou, t oo restricting. Ross and his mood would have filled the space, but Lou’s presence overflowed it. They ate from a tray which had been set on the desk, and though Ross was so close that their knees almost touched, he was as withdrawn as the stars. It took Lou some minutes to find the courage to question him; but inevitably she did. “Mr. Randall is tthe he man Eli Elinor nor knew in Si Singapore, ngapore, isn’ isn’tt he—t he one she wa was s going t o marry?” “Yes,”” w “Yes, was as t he bri brief ef answer. “I’m so glad. He looks nice.” “They all look nice to you, honey,” with an edge to his tones. She ignored this. “Elinor said he’s a similar type to Martin Craddock, and that’s what she needs. But h how ow did he get here?” “By plane, and t he normal t ransport from tthe he airstrip. airstrip.”” “I mean, how did he know where to find Elinor? She’s been to several places since leaving Singapore.”

Ross jabbed at a melting curl of butter and wiped it on to his plate. “You can always find a lost friend if you’re det determi ermined. ned.”” “But it’s a long t im ime e since El Elinor inor lleft eft Singapore. Singapore.”” “He made itit . What mor more e do you want ?” Lou sighed, and popped a tomato that was no larger than a grape into her mouth. After a moment she said, “Don’t you want to admit that you had something to do with the man’s arrival here today? Both you and Martin talked about persuading Elinor to stay on; you were  wait ing for Mr. Randall Randall,, weren’t you you?” ?” “We were w ere hoping, t hat ’s al all. l. And don’t ment mention ion any of t his to El Elinor. inor.”” “Of course I won’t, but I’d like to know what happened. I just can’t see you in the role of a match-maker.” “Then don’t try,” he said. “Elinor told Martin a good deal about Randall, and he and I talked it over. We both have acquaintances in Singapore, and we put through some enquiries by telegram. Then we telegraphed that hotel in Hong Kong where Elinor worked, and heard that Randall had been there, which meant that he was still keen. So we cabled some money to the hotel and told them to let Randall know in Singapore that Miss Weston had gone to Nyasaland. She’d have been bound to tell Randall about her brother, and the rest was up to him. Well, he’s here here..” Lou absorbed this, then said, “Won’t Elinor realize that someone must have told Mr. Randall that she had left for Nyasaland? I don’t suppose she told anyone in Hong Kong, and in any case he would would have found iitt out him himsel selff when he went t o tthe he hot hotel. el.””

 

“When you start tampering with other people’s affairs there’s always a risk,” he said abruptly. “It’s just possible that if she didn’t, she’ll still let it rest for a while and be happy that Randall came so far f ar for he her. r.”” “Y “Yes, es,”” said L Lou ou t hankfully, “t hat does prove he lloves oves her, doesn’t it it?” ?” “Oh, “O h, sure. T hey’re as good as hit hitched ched ffor or lilife fe alr already. eady.”” “Do you have to be so disagreeable about it? If anyone deserves happiness at last, it’s Elinor. Elinor.”” Lou paused, her eyes widening as she t hought . ‘You’ve been so impat impatient ient about El Elinor inor —you even said she was w as unst able, and so on. Why di did d you do so much for her?” “Believe it or not, I did it mostly for you. You were always so sorry for her, made excuses  when she behaved oddly and even suggest ed t hat she had a right t o Kei Keitt h.” h.” He speared a slice slice of cucumber. “Besides, I was anxious t o get rid rid of a few of t he compli complicat cat ions at Mul Mulera. era.”” Lou put down h her er fork, asked evenly, “A “Am m I one of t he compli complicat cat ions?” ‘You’re nearly all of them,” he said dispassionately. “If you hadn’t come to Mulera, Allwyn might have made a go of it, I wouldn’t have had to get my aunt out so soon, and I certainly  wouldn’t have had Elinor Elinor West Weston on under m my y roof iiff I’d I’d been here al alone one wit with hK Keit eith. h.”” “If I leave, leave, tthen, hen, your problems w will ill disappea disappear. r.”” “It “It ’s too lat lat e. e.”” He t hought of somet somethin hing, g, gave her a lo long ng st are. “My aunt is al always ways sayi saying ng t hat life here isn’t exciting enough for you. Would you like to stay with some friends of mine in the mountains for a week or t wo—you and Kei Keitt h?” “Wellll ..... yes,” she an “We answe swered red gua guardedly. rdedly. “Good. That will leave me free to take my aunt over to England. I’ll fix it up. I shan’t be away

more mor e t han ttwo wo weeks. “And when you come back?” His His eyes narrowed. “A “Anot not her probl problem, em, isn’ isn’tt it—b it—but ut I’l’lll st straighten raighten it out .” He poured black coffee rather more roughly than was necessary. “You don’t know how good it feels to have t hin hings gs movi moving. ng. If t here’ here’s s one t hin hing g t hat gets me itit ’s t he tthreat hreat of frust ration. ration.”” “And if there’s one thing that gets me,” she said tightly, “it’s your cool assumption that you can leave me to be straightened out when you have the time. What you refuse to acknowledge is that I’m just another person in similar circumstances to your own. We each have our own lives lives but we have t o share responsi responsibil bility ity ffor or K Keit eith, h, which means tthat hat our lilives ves are bound t o t ouch occasi occasional onally ly—but —but t hat hat’s ’s al all. l.”” “Is “Is it? Aren’ Aren’tt you lo losi sing ng sigh sightt of t he fact t hat you’ you’re re onl only y a girl girl?” ?” “Does that t hat mak make e me lless ess iimpor mportt ant in the w worl orld d t han you are are?” ?” His jaw hardened but he spoke without heat. “No, it doesn’t. Why can’t you accept that I’ll do  what ’s best for you? You won’t believe it—but it —but t hat ’s what I want t o do, very badly. badly.”” There was that in his expression which stopped Lou in her tracks; a darkness, an angry sincerity. She looked away, sat back and noticed that her napkin was tightly crumpled

 

bet ween her hands in her llap. ap. “Well,, what do you want me to do?” she asked iin “Well n low tones. t ones. “For a start, you might trust me. Just do as I ask for the next week or two. Once I’ve landed my aunt in England England I’l I’lll be abl able e t o concentrat e on ot her things. I want you t o go t o t hese fri friends ends of mine, have a good t im ime e wit with h t hem and wait t ill ill I get back before act ing iin n any way. way.”” “I can ... try it.” His appetite seemed to have departed, with hers. He pushed away the tray, got out cigarett es, light light ed hers and t hen his own. He smi smiled, led, but t here was no humor in his expr expression. ession. “We have romance romance under the roof, but t he at mosp mosphere here iisn’ sn’tt so differen differentt , is iitt ?” “Not bet between ween us, but it isn’t isn’t like likely ly to be. be.”” “Do you ever wonder why?” he asked curtly. “Sometim “Somet imes, es, t hough t he reason is fairly obvi obvious. ous. We aren’t in tthe he least ali alike. ke.”” “To be good friends friends we don ’t have t o be ali alike. ke. Hav Have e you ever tthought hought how we mi might ght regar regard d each other ot her,, if we we’d ’d m met et norm normall ally y, without t hat lit lit t le bone of cont ent ention ion cal calle led d Kei Keitt h appeari appearing ng on the t he scene? scene?”” “Frankly, I don’t think we’d have met. I’d never have come to Nyasaland and you’re hardly likel likely y t o come iint nto o cont contact act wit with h kind kindergar ergartt en t eacher eachers s when you go t o Engl England. and.”” “I don’t know.” His eyes had a green glint in them. “Last time I was in London I scooped up from the pavement a number of packages belonging to a pretty little nurse. I might have had t o do somet hing sim simililar ar for you.” “If you had,” she said, tidying her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, “you have accepted my thanks t hanks as you did t he nurse’s, and gone your way. way.”” “Maybe.” He stood up, and was much too big, took the pace to the window and looked out. “T here’l here’lll be more wind before t his spell clears up. I did say II’d ’d ttake ake you on t he Lake some ttim ime, e, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but but I won’t keep you tto o it.” “Stop the backchat,” he said sharply. “Let’s be matey, if we can. By the time I’m less tied up t he windy period wil willl have passed. We’l We’lll go down t o one of t he isl islands ands for a day.” “Very well.” T here was a silence. T hen he asked, non-commit non-committt all ally, y, “Not mi missing ssing Greg, Greg, are you?” “I like like his light humor.” “So have lot of’sot women women. savage note voice. ce.of “What t he deuce has t he chap gota tlot hat hat’s s so oher appeal appealing ing.”toTahegir girl l lik like e you? Hecame can’ can’tt into giv give ehis youvoi any t hose tthin hings gs you’ you’re re after—peace and security and a home that’s entirely your own.”

 

“He can be tender and understanding, which count a lot.” What Ross would have answered was problematical. He had no time to say anything before an eerie shriek blasted through the house. Lou got to her feet and raced after Ross through the corridor to Keith’s room. The little boy lay sprawled on the floor near an overturned chair, his hand clutching clut ching tthe he box w which hich had cont ained t he crocodil crocodile e eggs. All about him llay ay fragments of eggshell among which crawled several sluggish grey things which, on closer inspection, proved to be newly-hatched crocodiles. Lou stared, sickly. Normally, she loved small animals, but these things were incredibly evil and t he sli slime me made tthem hem look as iiff t hey had just crawled from pri primeval meval m mud. ud. Ross yanked Keith to his feet and said, “Good lord, the kid was right. The eggs did move. What happened, Keith?” The little boy’s gaze was fixed and shining. In faraway tones he said, “I got on a chair to look in the box on t he t op shel shelf. f. T hen I saw t hem. Aren’ Aren’tt t hey wonderful wonderful!” !” “I wouldn’ wouldn’tt say t hat hat.. Were you fri fright ghtened?” ened?” “Of course not,” he said indignantly. “I was only surprised. You see, I thought I must have been wrong, so I gave up hope. I only looked in the box because—” he thought for a second —“because I always do, I suppose. Aren’t they lovely, Lou?” “Not very, darling.” In fact as she watched the revolting little reptiles she felt herself go pale. She stepped back. “I’m afraid you can’t...” Her voice failed, and Ross suddenly saw her pallor and the tightness about her mouth. He slipped an arm round her, lowered her to the armchair, whipped out of the room for a glass of  wat er and c came ame back t o hold it t o her lips. lips. She sipped, drew a deep br breat eat h. “I’ “I’m m sor sorry. ry.”” “That’s all right. They are pretty horrible.” “They’re beautiful!” exclaimed Keith. “I’m going to keep them in the bath.” “O h, no,” said Ross firmly “Oh, firmly.. “You’ll “Y ou’ll keep t hem at Mr Mr.. Gil Gilchrist christ ’s reserve. You may wat ch t hem grow, but not here. here.”” “You’re saying that just because Lou’s scared!” “I’m “I’m not scared,”  said  said Lou. “I merely find them disgusting.” “If you’re not scared, scared,”” cha chant nt ed Keith, “you’ll pick tthem hem up. up.”” “Get a bucket, and I will.”

He pranced out. Ross said softly, “You didn’t have to take a dare from a five-year-old. You go too far, Louise.” “Why did you let him have those beastly eggs?” “I didn’t know t hey were fert ile. ile. Gi Gilchri lchrist st himsel himselff didn’t know. You ’d bet bettt er go and lilie e down  while I get ri rid d of tthis his mess. mess.””

 

“And let Keith think I’ve bolted? Never!” “Don’tt be absur “Don’ absurd. d. You’l You’lll nev never er be abl able e t o t ouch tthe he t hi hings—you ngs—you k know now t hat hat!” !” “Yes, “Y es, I will. I won’t have Keit Keith h t hink. hink....” But Ross had merci mercilessl lessly y t aken one of her hands and op opened ened it wide. Gri Gripping pping t he fingers, he reached down for one of the tiny reptiles and placed it on her palm. Her hand shook, she bit her lip so hard that a trickle of blood showed, against the whiteness. The wet grey thing slithered on the floor, and Ross pressed a handkerchief into her palm, took her arm and halflifted her from the chair. “Come on,” he ordered. “You “Y ou didn’t murm murmur ur and we beli believe eve you’re brave. brave.”” “I’m st aying,” she sa said. id. “I’m all ri right ght now now..” Fortunately, Keith did not return alone, so there was no need for a demonstration from Lou. Behind him came Elinor Elinor and George Randa Randall. ll. “We were a long way up the garden,” Elinor said. “I’ve never heard such a scream in my life.” “It was me,” Keith told her proudly. Then he glanced up curiously at Mr. Randall. “Are you going goin g t o lilive ve here ttoo?” oo?” Faint Fai nt red came up under t he man’s an, E Elilinor nor smil smiled, ed, a llitt itt le ttremul remulously ously.but . Hesi Hesit t ant lymind she said, “George refuses to ask you to letttan, himand have a bed on the veranda, Ross, I don’t begging anot her favor. It won’t be for long. long.”” Ross spoke far more cordially that he could possibly feel. “It’ll be a pleasure, Randall. Got any plans?” Keith lost interest in grown-ups. He slipped down on to his knees and lifted the crocodiles one by one and placed them in the bucket; there were seven of them, and he sat brooding over them t hem as a chil child d will brood over anyt anything hing new-b new-born. orn. George Randall was saying, in shy but purposeful tones, “We want to be married as soon as possible. We might go to a magistrate in Zomba. The District Commissioner could probably help us. u s.”” “We’ll all help you. Glad you made it. So is Elinor, I guess.” But Elinor Elinor was t oo caut cautious ious abo about ut her new-found joy t o say much. It would ttake ake her weeks, perhaps months, to accustom herself to the knowledge that she was a wife and very much loved; that the past which had dogged her so cruelly could be forgotten. She smiled softly. “For the moment I’m just grateful. I’m not even going to ask how things have happened this  way.” Then, naturally and without the least shrinking, she bent beside Keith and looked into the bucket poked inquisitively at one of the reptiles and laughed with the child at the resultant  wriggle. “Room’s a bit crowded,” commented Ross. “Suppose we all have a drink together, to wish

you two lovebirds all the best.”  

Arrangements for the marriage were surprisingly uncomplicated. Martin Craddock had returned, and promised to issue the necessary licence at once. He looked happy and serene, presumably because his own affairs were proceeding smoothly, and within a day or two he announced that his col collea league gue in Zomba would perform the ceremon ceremony y at a pri privat vate e house in tthe he district. Quietly, Elinor altered a smart white suit for the occasion, and she went into Zomba for a new hair style and brightening rinse. She returned late in the evening, looking younger and more vital, and at dinner Lou noticed her awakening appetite, her lack of interest in cigarettes. The marriage of Elinor’s was the best thing to come out of Dick’s and Dorothy’s accident. Lou  wished Dick Dick coul could d see hi his s si sist st er now! Lou wore pastel blue for Elinor’s wedding, and Keith wore navy linen shorts and a white shirt. They were taken in the estate car and followed by Paula and Martin in the tourer. Mrs. Acland, t o her reg regret, ret, had to st ay at t he plan plantt at ation, ion, but her wi wishes shes were warm and deep, and she had insisted that Elinor accept a pair of ruby ear-rings as a gift. Gifts had naturally been a little difficult, but Elinor stated that it was so lovely having friends of her own at her wedding that gifts would be anticlimax. However, Ross had somehow managed to procure some silver tableware, and Lou had bought house linen at the general store and quickly embroidered each article with an ornamental R. T he mar marri riage age t ook pl place ace in the w wide ide ve veranda randa of a count country ry hous house e set among poi poinsett nsett ias an and d palms. Below shimmered a river which ran to the Lake, and overhead spread flight after flight of wild geese and a straggle of herons that flew so low that the red spots above their white ear-lobes were visible. visible. T he flying geese meant comi coming ng winds and perhaps rain, but now all was calm and full of promise. Elinor Elinor gave her responses quiet quietly ly and confident ly, ly, George Randal Randalll sounded rugged an and d firm. A gramophone played Bach while a short procession filed into the lounge for signatures, good  wishes and toast s. Watching Elinor, Lou felt tears stinging her eyelids. She went forward and kissed the thin cheek. “You’re going to be happy, Elinor. I’m sure of it I do wish you weren’t going back to Singapore.” “But she’s not—yet,” said Ross, just behind her. “Randall’s brother is running the business there for a while, and these two are staying in Nyasaland for at least a couple of months.” “A “Att t he Lakesi Lakeside de Hot el, el,”” Eli Elinor nor said, nodding. “We ffeel eel we need it .” “T hat ’s marvell marvellous. ous. II’m ’m so glad. glad.”” Elinor touched Lou’s arm. “Thank you. After a week or so we’ll take Keith off your hands. Ross has promised. promised.”” Lou slant slanted ed him a quick glance, smi smiled led at El Elinor inor and moved aw away ay so t hat ot hers could wish the b bri ride de well. A cockt ail was slipped iint nt o her hand and Ross said, “Sit down. I’ll fill a plate for you and bring it over.” Lou sat and tasted the drink. Ross came beside her, pulled forward a low table and placed on it the plate he had loaded with savories. He hit hit ched his iimmacul mmaculat at e grey ttrousers rousers and llowered owered himsel himselff t o tthe he chair at her side. He must have noticed the moisture on her lashes, for he said offhandedly, “You needn’t  weep f or El Elinor inor.. She’s get t ing a fine chap and she’l she’lll gi give ve him good value. Or do you feel a w wee ee

 

bit envious?”

“Of cou cours rse e not! not!”” “Wouldn’t you lilike ke t o hook a man of George’s ttype? ype? He’s dependable. dependable.”” ‘Yes, he is,” she replied, ignoring his question. Then: “When did you promise Elinor that she could have Keit Keith?” h?” “A day or two ago. They’ve booked in at the Lakeside Hotel for a spell, and Elinor rather  want ed iitt . Once she leaves N Nyasaland yasaland she won’t see tthe he boy for perhaps y years. ears. It ’s onl only y fair to let her h er have hi him m for a month or t wo. wo.”” “I agree, but you might ha have ve ment mentioned ioned it.” “There was no hurry.” He waved at her plate. ‘Try the stuffed olives; they’re not bad.” “If Eleanor Eleanor t akes Keith for t wo mont months hs I shal shalll have not hing t o do. R Ross, oss, I reall really y must ...” “Be quiet,” he said soft ly but perempt oril orily y. “You have to let me run this my own way, t ililll we ’r ’re e free of entanglements. You haven’t a thing to worry about, young Louise. Not a thing.” In despair despair,, she said, “I “Itt just isn’ isn’tt possibl possible e fo forr you t o see t he wh whole ole business from my angle, is it? You lost me my job, took away my independence, and you expect me to sit back and smile about it all!” Because he did not reply at once, she went on recklessly, “I wish I’d agreed to marry Greg before you met us that day! He’s no less a desirable parent for Keith than ... Paula Craddock!” Her forearm was gripped so viciously that she grimaced with the pain. In a dangerous undertone Ross said, “That’s about enough. We’ll never get anywhere by argument. Eat your snacks, lit lit t le one, and you may as well dri drink nk enough t o make you sleepy and unwil unwilliling ng t o t alk!” He got up, and with t he shade of a bow in her dir direct ection ion he m moved oved away and mi mingl ngled ed wit with h t he dozen or so other people in the room. But fleetingly, Lou caught a full view of his face. It was set in angular lines, the jaw inflexible and the mouth thin, as though his teeth were clamped. Lou knew, fatally, that she had snapped the frail link which had attached her to Ross Gilmore; some things made him mock, others vexed him, but slighting reference to Paula roused him to  whit e-hot , mascul masculine ine rrage. age. Perhaps it w was as fort unat e, she reflect reflected ed bleakl bleakly y, t hat t hey were here in the t he mi midst dst of a convivial crowd. It was good to watch the bridal couple speed away in a hired car, and quite funny to see Keith thoughtfully inspecting the handful of rice which he should have thrown. Lou rested a hand on his shoulder, drew him to lean against her. He didn’t say anything, but just remained there, companionably, and let the rice trickle through his fingers. Lou remembered Elinor’s final injunction, uttered almost under her breath. “Lou, dear, George and I would like you to be our guest at the hotel for as long as we have Keitt h—unless you want a change ffrom Kei rom him him.. You must please yourself, nat urall urally y, but we ’d love t o have you. you.”” T hey were being kind, she knew. They w wouldn’ ouldn’tt all allow ow h her er t o fe feel el she was playing gooseberry gooseberry,, but t he la latt t er woul would d be tthe he ttruth ruth of it. Hav Having ing K Keith eith wit h t hem woul would d be di different fferent.. He woul would d go off to play with other children who might be guests at the hotel, and they would have long evenings free of him. And to Elinor, Keith was a special child, her only relative.

 

Lou met a pair of china-blue eyes, smiled perfunctorily at Paula and looked down at Keith’s fair head. Paula drifted close, still fresh and dainty in a full-skirted printed dakron that revealed exquisite underwear. “Who’d have imagined imagined t hat Elinor Elinor would iinspire nspire devotion in such a man, man,”” she comment commented ed in a smiling drawl. “I suppose she turned him down in Singapore, or he wouldn’t have followed.” So neither Martin nor Ross had given Paula the details of the romance; which was vaguely

comforting. Lou said, “They’re both in love, and that’s all that matters. I only wish I weren’t going to lose t ouch with t hem agai again. n.”” Paula’s tones were honeyed. “Why not tack yourself on to them? If Elinor and her husband  were willing willing to t ake Kei Keitt h permanent permanently ly,, you could go along as third guardian. I beli believe eve tthere here are good teaching jobs in Singapore.” With a sharp glance, Lou reminded Paula that Keith was right there, between them. She answered evenly, “I m might ight look iint nt o it it.. Ni Nice ce wedding, wasn’t it ?” “I prefer a little more spectacle myself. I intend to marry in the centuries-old church on the edge of my place in Hampshire. As a matter of fact, I’ve written over to the housekeeper, asking her to t o get out my mother’s wedding veil veil.. Act uall ually y,” wit with h a t inkl inkling ing laugh, “I’ “I’m m not romantic about these things, but one’s employees expect a dash of youthful sentimentality, and seeing t hat blondes always make glam glamorous orous brides II’l’lll do my best by t hem. hem.”” “Are you going to be married ... soon?” Paula’s beautiful aloof I’ve andwaited assured, there was the strange, sapphire-hard sparkle in her eyes. face “Earlylooked in October. longand enough.” Abrupt ly, she t urned tto o speak tto o someone els else. e. T hen Martin appeared again at Lou’ Lou’s s side. “You and Keith are going home to Mulera with me,” he said, with that endearing kind smile of his. “Ross is taking Paula and a few others to the club in Zomba, but I have work to do and you have Keith on your hands. I thought you could have gone with them, and said that I’d deliver Keitt h t o Mrs. Acland, but Ross says you’r Kei you’re e t ired. ired. I must say you don’t look a hundred per cent .” She nodded without speaking. With Martin, she thanked their host and hostess. Ross saw t hem tto o t he car car,, look looked ed into t he back seat and sai said d something tto o Kei Keitt h, and t hen roved a cool glance over Lou. To Mart Martin in he sai said, d, “Take care of t hese chil children, dren, won’t you? And you you’l’lll cal calll iin n t omorrow tto o say goodbye to t o my aunt? I’ve ’ve just heard t hat we have seat s on T hursd hursday’ ay’s s plane plane..” “What about injec injectt ions ions?” ?” “It’s less than t han t wo years since I last slipped over tto o Engl England. and. My llast ast lot will cover tthis his ttrip. rip.”” “Want me tto o keep an eye on L Lou ou and K Keith?” eith?” “T hey’re goi going ng t o st stay ay wit with h tthe he Bai Bains ns near Vim Vima. a. We’l We’lll al alll get t oget her when I ret return. urn.”” Martt in nodded and lleft Mar eft in tthe he clutch. Lou lilift ft ed her head and st ared tthrough hrough the winds windscreen creen,,

 

and within a minu minutt e or two t here was no ttemptat emptat ion t o llook ook bac back. k. On the whole, Mrs. Acland was relieved next day to hear Ross’ decision to take her over to Englan Eng land. d. Indeed, aft er a t alk wit with h him she seemed t o be ext raordi raordinaril narily y happy, and t hat aft ernoon sh she e spent mor more ez zest est on her packi packing ng t han she had dis displa played yed duri during ng t he whole of her stay in Nyasaland. Lou had no private moments with the older woman, and it was only from dropped remarks that she gathered some of the gist of Mrs. Acland’s conversation with Ross. “T his iis s t he best t onic iin n t he world for m me, e,”” she sai said d at dinn dinner er.. And t hen, wit without hout ela elaborating, borating, she turned to Lou. “My dear, when you come back to England you must get in touch with me. We mustn’t los lose e sigh sightt of each ot her. her.”” Convent ional poli Conventional politt eness, of course. L Lou ou answ answered ered accordingl accordingly y. M Mrs. rs. Acland w went ent early tto o bed, and Lou, murmuring a cool goodnight to Ross as she went followed at once. She slept very little that night and when morning came it was as bright as ever, not black and empty like her

heart. Mrs. Acland rest rested ed t ill ill te ten n o’cl o’clock, ock, t hen dressed in her grey suit and a w whit hite e blouse. Ross was out, giving Greg last-minute instructions, no doubt. He got back just after eleven, ate a sandwich and drank some coffee and changed into a dark lounge suit which turned him into a complet compl ete e st ranger ranger.. It was then that Lou had her own and Keith’s suitcases brought into the veranda; without being told, she knew that Ross would himself hand his two charges over to the Bains. He always acted in character. There were goodbyes to Mrs. Acland, promises exchanged which would probably never be kept, and the estate car slid away from the house, carrying Keith in the back seat and Lou in the front. Fortunately, Keith was very much awake and inquisitive. He knew the Bains, wanted to know if they still had the panting bulldogs. Ross answered him, but that was all. He drove fast, away from the and coffee through a in native where were ripening on the roofs kaffirtrees, com was drying browntownship heaps, and over green a smallpapaws stone bridge. T hey ent entered ered mou mount ntain ain coun countt ry, ry, where t ropi ropical cal frui fruitt s grew in order orderly ly rows rows and t ea plantat ion ions s greened t he hill hillsides. sides. It was at a tea plantation that Ross slowed and ran along the front of a square thatched house. The Bains appeared, a rather fat jolly man who was balding on top, and his wife, who  was black-haired and st stililll pret prettt y at ffort orty. y. “Well, how very pleasant!” exclaimed Mrs. Bain. “We’ve been longing for visitors, especially young ones.” “T hese are cert ainl ainly y young, young,”” said Ross sardoni sardonicall cally. y. “Leave t he bags for t he boys t o coll collect ect . Come iin n for a drink before you st art back, Ross. Ross.”” “Sorry, but I haven’t really the time. Plane leaves at one-thirty, and you know how it is at the airstrip when you have luggage to load. Afraid I’ll have to leave at once.” He gave Lou a searching glance. “You’ll have good fun with Mr. and Mrs. Bain. I’ll be back as soon as I can get my aunt set settt led iin n her flat with a speci speciali alist st in char charge. ge.”” “A specialist specialist?” ?” echoe echoed d Mrs. B Bain. ain. “Is Mrs. Acland really ilill?” l?” “I’m not sure, but something happened to her before she came out here—I’m certain of it.

 

She’s kept quiet about it because she didn’t want to worry me, but she’s not herself at all. I’m hoping hopi ng I needn’ needn’tt be away more than t en days or a fort fortni night ght..” Lou’s heart was heavy. The two weeks were an eternity, and somehow she was afraid, terribly afraid. But as she said goodbye to him her smile was studied and unrevealing. His glance raked her features again, then he flung a fabricated smile at Keith and set the engine running. Bill Bain said, “I’ll go with you as far as the end of the road, Ross. I’ve traced a bug of some sort among my new plants, and you may know something about it.” He got in beside Ross, and with a wave of the hand Ross accelerated and sped out on to the road. Mrs. Bain smiile sm led d at t he ttwo wo who st stood ood wi witt h her o on n t he steps. “Let’s “Let ’s go iinside. nside. We’l We’lll have cool dr drinks inks and get t o know one anot her. her.”” For about fifteen minutes they talked together, Keith about the crocodiles he had not been allowed to keep and the bulldogs, which, he learned, were shut up in a shed because one of them had a fractured leg and the other had to keep him company. Mrs. Bain revealed something of the leisurely, sociable life she led and Lou smiled and nodded, and grew a little easier her heart. Mr. Bain returned, with walking, and gave himself a glass half-fullaround of ice chips whichThen had been spattered with hot whisky. “Wish I could get you t o t ravel by ai airr,” he said cheerfully tto o his wife. “Im “Imagine agine iitt —Ross can be t here, do his busi business ness and get back in a m mat at t er of days. days.””

“Sorry, dear “Sorry, dear,, but I just can ’t screw up my courage. Is Ross going t o let us have a wire before he catches cat ches tthe he home pl plane?” ane?” He nodded. “I told him his two young people would be safe and happy with us, so he may st stay ay on a bit. bit.”” “Not he, he,”” st at ed Mrs. Bai Bain. n. “He’ll come back as soo soon n as he can—t o Paula. Paula.”” Her husband drank, lazily. “He doesn’t have to rush back to Paula. She’s going on the plane  wit h hi him. m.”” Lou’s immediate surroundings rocked, and chilly fingers locked about her throat, but somehow someh ow she managed tto o ret retain ain the party smil smile. e. Mrs. Bain lifted her head and stared at her husband in delighted surprise. “There you are! I told you when they called here for tea last week that it wouldn’t be long before they were engaged. I’ll lay you a fiver that they’re going to make some of the wedding arrangements at Paula’s place in Hampshire! What luck for than that the estate exists. I can imagine nothing more heavenly than having one foot in Africa and the other in England!” Mr. Bain nodded benignly. “Well, it’s time Ross hitched up. Don’t you agree, Miss Prentice?” Lou gave the mechanical smile and murmured an answer. She looked at Keith, but for once drew no comfort from the child’s existence. Would sheyou’ve lose him, too?had. What was she thinking! She hadn’t lost Ross, because you can’t lose what never Thank heaven, she t hought despairi despairingly, ngly, t hat no one knew her world had finall finally y fallen apar apartt

   

CHAPTER TEN

For a day or two, in spite of the happy-go-lucky atmosphere at the Bains’, Lou felt drained of feeling, and lonely as she had never been in her life before. Then, by degrees, her natural courage reasserted itself, her mind recovered from the final shock and began to work again on normal lines. lines. She saw now t hat she had bee been n feeb feeble; le; because she had loved Ross, she had sat back and allowed him to dictate her way of living and even to handle her immediate future. True, she had flared at him when he had sent in her resi resignat gnat ion to t he princi principal pal of tthe he kindergarten, and at various times she had stated her case, very frankly. But had allowed her feelings for Ross and his unfailing thoughtfulness to blind her to what he was doing quite openly and methodical met hodically—arr ly—arranging anging her own and Keith’s liv lives es t o fit in with his own plans. It must have been convenient for him to have someone with whom he could leave Keith  while he went w ent off and made his wedding arrangements. Because, of course, he had not gone t o Engl England and for his aunt aunt’s ’s sake; she could have travelled with Paula and saved Ross Ross the t he t rip! Lou steadied her thoughts and made a resolution. From now on, she would consider only her own viewpoint and desires. She had made no promises to Ross and was free, within certain limits, to do as she pleased. For the present, she must stay here with the Bains, but by the t ime Ross rret et urned she would have a pl plan an of her own. Upon which decision, Lou felt calmer, if no happier. But she tried to be happy, and succeeded in convincing the Bains that she was having a grand time. It was not much effort to enjoy the mountains and the tea estate, the silver ribbon of the river and its black pools where an occasional group of hippo lazed and had fun. But the social evenings were more of a strain, till Lou perfected a bri bright ght cool s smi mile le and tones t o mat match, ch, t o carr carry y her tthrough hrough.. There were parties down by the Lake, car-drives through the valleys and over the hills,

evenings at the Bains’s house or in someone else’s, when dancing followed eating and drinking, drinki ng, and m midni idnight ght singi singing ng echoed down t he garden. And one da day y Mrs. Bai Bain n drove Lou and Keitt h down t o t he Vim Kei Vima a Hotel. It was one of those dull oppressive afternoons. The sky hung close like an old grey blanket, and t he fronds of t he pal palms ms were dar dark k and stat ic ag again ainst st t he gunme gunmett al rrippl ipples es of t he L Lake. ake. T he hotel was half-empty, and as on Lou’s previous visit, it looked as if the few residents must be sleeping. There was no sign of life, except a tall Nyasa waiter in white cotton, who lounged across acros s t he shaded gard garden en t o serve tea under an ol old d fig t ree. “Everything’s lively here at the weekend,” Mrs. Bain said, as she poured, “but I enjoy it when it’s it ’s llike ike tthis. his. I beli believe eve t he hot el resi resident dent s sleep soli solidly dly from Monday tto oT Thursday. hursday.”” Lou smil smiled. ed. “What sort of people come here?” “Men on leave from Central Africa, a few hardy fishing types from the south. In the rains the hotel is empty, and they open only at weekends, for people like us to meet and have a gay t ime. Last year a famil family y was marooned here for t hree weeks; t he road was under w wat at er. er.”” Lou looked down over the Lake. “It’s such a tranquil spot,” she commented. “I never see the desert ed beaches ro desert round und t he L Lake ake without t hink hinking ing of t he crowded coas coastt of Engl England. and.”” They had finished tea and were smoking a cigarette while Keith explored the footpaths down to the Lake, when a car pulled up on the gravel front of the hotel. Lou stared. It couldn’t be. But it was!

 

“It’s Elinor and her husband!” she exclaimed. “Excuse me a moment, Mrs. Bain, and I’ll bring t hem over. over.”” She ran across to the hired car, reached it just as Elinor and George Randall straightened on the gravel. Elinor was brown and smiling, and she held both Lou’s hands tightly, as if it were months since they’ t hey’d d last seen each ot her. “How lovely,” she said. “I told George you were somewhere in this district and that we might see you, but I didn’t expect it to happen on the day we arrived. We got here at about ten this morning.” Lou greet greet ed George, and t urned back tto o El Elinor. inor. “A “Are re you st staying aying iin n t he hot el?” She nodded. “It’s higher tha than n t he Lakesi Lakeside de and t he views are bet bettt er er.. We drove over yesterday and booked in, arrived this morning and we’ve just been exploring the other bays to t he north. IIs s Kei Keitt h wit with h you?” “Y “Yes. es. C Come ome over a and nd meet Mrs. Bain. Bain.”” They all sat together and ordered more tea. Keith strolled up holding a mountain tortoise that bigger than a ge’s large coatng. button, and he smiled chummily at Elinor and actually gavewas t he tno ortoise into Geor George’ s keepi keeping. “I may find another,” he told them gravely as he moved away. “I have to have two to raise a family.” George lifted an eyebrow and made no comment. He looked healthy and serene, and his glances at Elinor were those of a man who has never looked at another woman and never  want ed tto. o. “How long do you expect expect t o st stay ay here here?” ?” Lou ask asked. ed. Elinor Elinor smi smiled. led. “Till we’re t ired of it , but I don’t t hink we shall t ir ire e quickly quickly.. T his is tthe he ffir irst st thoroughly lazy time either of us ever had, and laziness grows on one. Our two months may stretch into three.” She leaned forward, one forearm on the table. “We’ll have Keith as soon as you like, Lou. There’s plent plenty y of room in tthe he hot el, so you can come as well. well.””

“Oh, “O h, no. You’re very ki kind, nd, but I wouldn’t do t hat .” “T hen may we have K Keith?” eith?” Unexpectedly, George Randall added his persuasion. “We’d like to have him just as soon as you’re ready to let him go for a few weeks. Why not leave him with us now? I’ll come along for his clot clot hes and t hings mysel myself. f.”” Lou was startled. “It’s awfully sudden. I know he’s supposed to be coming to you soon, but  wouldn’t you rat her be free for, say, anot her week?” “The sooner we have him the better,” said Elinor. “It’s rather a good idea for us to take him  while st aying wit ith hanyway, Mrs. B Bain. ain. fhat yout he won’t come and wit with you’lll be able t o come you’re down and see w him him so IIftthat break won’ won’t t be lilive tve oo here abrup abrupt t .” h us, you’l George said practically, “Let’s ask Keith himself.” He stood up and called, and Keith trudged up, shaking his head.

 

“I haven’ haven’tt found t he ot other her one yet. It may take hours, hours,”” he t old them. George smiled at him. “Could take days. How would you like to stay with your auntie and me, right here at Vima? Then you could look for ttort ortoises oises and ot other her crawli crawlies es every day. day.”” Keitt h considered tthe Kei he off offer. er. “Is L Lou ou st aying?” Lou answered. “No, darling, but I’ll be with Mrs. Bain for a few more days. It’s not far away. You knew you were we re going to live with your aunt ie and uncl uncle e for a while, didn’t you?” Keith nodded, charmingly. “Auntie Elinor won’t make me have lessons. I’ll stay.” But Elinor Elinor put in smoot smoothly, hly, “T here’l here’lll be lessons of some sort sort,, Kei Keitt h, wherever you live. live.”” He sighed resignedly. “I’ll be able to swim, anyway. And Lou must come every day.” George clinched the deal by going off to arrange for the child’s room, and Lou fought down the lost feeling and told herself that it would be good for Keith to be with a couple who were not only closely related to him, but who would be bound to agree upon matters concerning himself. himsel f. IIn n any case, it w was as only for perhaps a lilitt t le over tw two o mont months. hs. But it was distinctly odd t o t ravel back al alone one wit with h Mrs Mrs.. Bai Bain n t o t he plantat ion, and later in her room, as she packed Keith’s clothes, Lou faced the stark fact that she was no longer needed here in Nyasaland, or anywhere else. She saw Keith next day, and the day after, and then she missed a day. The next time she  went down t o t he V Vim ima a Hot el she w was as alone, dr drivi iving ng herself in Mrs. B Bain’ ain’s s ancient coupe. She found that the Randalls had taken Keith up the mountains and would be back at six. A message had been left that if she called she was to wait and have dinner with them. But Lou  was reluctant t o keep Mrs. Bai Bain’s n’s car for so long Because t he air was hot and st icky icky,, she ordered order ed an iced dri drink nk and sat under tthe he fig t ree tto o write a not e for Eli Elinor nor.. Aft er it was finis finished hed she sat on for a few minutes, savoring the warm breeze and the scents of the rock plants  which grew in in profusion on tthe he sl slope ope down t o tthe he L Lake. ake. Then she saw someone climbing the slope, a thin, sandy-haired man in shorts, white shirt and coolie sandals. Greg Allwyn! Lou leaned forward and called softly. He looked up, smiled delightedly and took the rest of the slope swiftly, so that when he arrived at the iron table he  was t oo breat breathless hless t o speak at once. He sank on t o a garden chair chair,, seemed t o drink in her small tanned face and the streaky brown-gold hair. “I wondered if you might come here,” he said. Then he took a breath and said apologetically, “Out of condition, I guess. Sorry.”

“Y “Yes, es, you are, are,”” she said seri seriously. ously. “Doing anyt hing about it it?” ?” “Maybe “May be I wil will, l, some day. Are you h here ere alone? alone?”” Lou explained, and as she talked she noticed sweat glistening on his upper lip, and a darkness round his eyes. Something about him reminded her of that night when she had first seen him. But he wasn’t ill ill and discouraged now. Or was he?” “Are you taki t aking ng a brea break k from t he pl plant antat ation ion this aft afternoon ernoon?” ?” He gazed at her for a few seconds and then looked away. “You didn’t know that I’d finished

 

at the plantation, did you? I’m one of those low types who like their revenge. When Ross told me he had to take his aunt to England I told him I wouldn’t be there to look after Mulera. I hoped he’d get mad, but he didn’t. He turned the tables, neatly—told me that he hadn’t been going to rely on me, anyway, that he’d arranged for a friend of his to look over the place every day. He also said he’d pay for the full three months on condition that I left Mulera within a few hours. So I did.” “Oh, dear,” she said, distressed. ‘You do make things difficult for yourself, Greg. What have you been doing since then?” “Loafing. Comparatively, I’m in the money. Don’t look like that. There’s nothing to be miserable mis erable about . In a week o orr t wo I may apply for my old forest ry job. job.”” “But it’s such a pity, G Greg. reg. You could have made such a good t hing of Mulera iiff you hadn’t hadn’t....” “Touched Ross where it hurt ” he ended quiet quietly ly.. “I fell for someone whom he considered his responsibility. I wasn’t good enough—it was fatal.” He shrugged, then smiled with his old nonchalance. “If you’ you’ve ve lost t he kid for a while you’r you’re e at a loose end. H How ow w would ould you lik like e t o join up wit h me ttililll the cash runs out ? No strings, no recri recriminations—just minations—just good clean fun?” “Afraid it wouldn’t work. Besides, you need that money. I wish you’d have a thorough checkup, Greg. Greg. You do don’t n’t look really we well. ll.”” “If I have a t horough check-u check-up p t hey’l hey’lll send me back t o England. What would I do iin n England?” “Get well, and come back again. again.”” “I’m “I’m fine. Been ttippi ipping ng t he bot t le ttoo oo much, t hat ’s al all. l. T ell m me e your plans. plans.”” “I haven’t haven’t any yet yet..” “But what will you do while Keith is with the Randalls and Ross is away on his honeymoon— supposing supposi ng t he t wo coinci coincide?” de?” The question, brutally to the point, stated something which Lou’s mind had avoided for days. Her mout mouth h went dry, but she sum summoned moned the new britt le sm smilile. e. “I may may be able t o find a t emporary jjob ob of some kind, or I may fix up somet something hing permanent and rent a home tthat hat I can shar share e wit with h Kei Keitt h.” h.” “Y “You ou w won’t on’t get him him,, I’m afraid. Paul Paula a will certainly send him away t o school. school.”” “T hen II’l’lll go t o t he school and ask ffor or a job. I’ve had first class ttraini raining. ng.”” “Sounds brave,” he said laconically. They talked for another half an hour, and then Lou gave her note to a waiter and strolled  wit h Greg t o Mrs. Bai Bain’s n’s car car.. She got behind t he wheel and he closed t he door and spoke t hrough t he open wi window. ndow.

Will you come down again t omorr omorrow? ow? “Probably, t o see Kei Keitt h. h.””

 

“Make it a certainty and II’l’lll m meet eet you on t he road—ab road—about out four?” “ If you like. B But ut , G Greg.. reg....” He reached in and patted her hand on the wheel. “I’m not hoping for anything, Goldilocks. I t hink you can help m me e sort somet something hing out and make a decisi decision, on, t hat ’s al all. l.”” “About you yourr fut ure?” ure?” “T hat hat’s ’s right right..” He paused, and sai said d wit with h a t race of bitt ernes erness, s, “I had tto o work at Mul Mulera era before I knew that what I’d like most is a share in a plantation. That’s the way things happen—too late.” “Not always, always,”” she said quickl quickly. y. “Don’t ever llose ose heart heart;; t hat ’s the secret .” The kind of advice, she reflected hollowly, as she smiled at him and drove away, which was easy to give and nearly impossible to follow once one had passed a certain point on the down grade. She thought quite intensively about Greg that evening. The fact that he had improved so t rem remendousl endously y duri during ng t he first w week eek or so at Mul Mulera era showed tthat hat he had in hi him m tthe he germ of at least moderate success. It had been bad luck for Greg that Lou Prentice had been on the spot,, t o lilift spot ft his h hopes opes and per perhaps haps uni unint ntent entio ionall nally y t o t orm orment ent him a lilitt t le. She owed iitt t o hi him m to help him, if she c could. ould. The next morning was grey and windy. Hot gusts swept into the house, bringing dust and raindrops. By lunchtime all the windows had to be fastened against the damaging, damp-laden  wind, and t he air was hot and clam clammy my iindoors, ndoors, t he sounds ghost ghostly ly.. Ant s came out in rregiments egiments from cracks in the floor, and rainflies found their way in through the vent-windows; horrible, gauzy, blood-sucking little things these rainflies, but they succumbed in myriads to sprayed insecticide. Even the t he Bai Bains ns had small appet ite for lunch, and Mrs. Bai Bain n t hought it would be wrong ffor or L Lou ou t o dri drive ve down to t he Vim Vima a Ho Hott el today. “Mrs. Randall won’t expect you in this weather,” she said. “If it’s fine tomorrow morning you can set out firs firstt t hin hing. g. T hat would be wi wiser. ser.”” For an hour, Lou watched the weather, and waited. But the hoped-for respite did not materialize. In fact, the rain fell faster and was swept horizontally among the trees. The elements in Africa have no pity. The sun is lethal, the winds have tornado strength, the rain lashes the earth in such vast quantities that rivers are filled, roads and bridges are washed away and a nd vill villages ages demolis demolished hed in t he space of a ffew ew hou hours. rs. Lou remembered tthis his as she looked out at t he red m mud ud tthat hat cover covered ed tthe he la lawns, wns, but she knew that t his was a mi mild ld s stt orm com compared pared  wit h tthe he ttype ype tthat hat came iin n season. She turned to Mrs. Bain, who sat placidly reading. “I really ought to go down to Vima. I met a friend frien d t here ye yest sterday erday a and nd he sai said d he’d be on tthe he road tto o meet me ttoday oday at four four.. I can’t let him down.” “He won’t be t here—n here—not ot in s such uch weat weather. her.”” “He’s awfully unwi “He’s unwise—and se—and hi his s car is isn’t n’t ent irely irely waterproof. I h hat at e t o ask ffor or t he coupe but I do think I should go.” “Won’t he come on here?”

 

“He might.” Then she remembered. “But he doesn’t know where I am—only that I’m staying at a ttea ea pl plant antat at ion for tw two o weeks. weeks.”” “Or longer, my dear, if Ross doesn’t come back so soon.” Lou thought it safer to ignore this comfortable statement. She said anxiously, “He’s one of those men who worry you—doesn’t take care of himself. He’d get thoroughly wet and cold, and st ill ill wait wait..” Mrs. Bain glanced at the grey shimmer of rain. “This isn’t so bad, I suppose. You’re not likely to meet other trac, so if you drive slowly you’ll be all right. But don’t try the return journey, Lou. It’s uphill and the bends are more treacherous. Stay down at the Vima Hotel and we’ll come down t here for di dinner nner.. By that t im ime e t he rai rain n wil willl hav have e st opped or at least we’l we’lll be able to gauge t he condi conditt ion ion of t he road. All right right?” ?” “Yes, but I’v ’ve e no in intt ent entio ion n of put t in ing g you out lik like e t hat hat!” !” “Don’t be silly. We love having dinner out, particularly on bad days.” “Ought n’t we t o ask M Mr. r. Bai Bain n about it fir f irst st?” ?” “My dear, when you’ve been married as long as I have you’ll know your man well enough to make minor decisions for him. Run along and change. If you’re going, the sooner you set out t he bett er. er.”” Lou sli slipped pped out of her house frock and int into o a tturquoise urquoise gl glaz azed ed cot t on. She m made ade up hurri hurriedly, edly, buttoned on her into raincoat and pulled hood the glossy hair. dropped pair highheeled sandals a bag and wentthe along toover the living-room. Mrs.She Bain lookedaat theofbrown  walking shoes and nodded approvi approvingly. ngly. “T he car ke keys ys are ov over er tthere here iin n my bag— bag—tt he front pocket Take iitt sl slowly owly,, so tthat hat you don ’t have to use the brake very much and you’ll have no trouble.” She paused. “By the way, you might ask at the Vima Hotel if they got any mail today. We should have heard from Ross before now. now .” Lou hesitated near the door, said in low tones, “You’ll have a telegram the day he leaves London and he’ll he’ll probably com come e by t he fa fast st servic service e and arrive here tthe he fo follllowing owing day. day.”” Mrs. Bai Bain’s n’s pret prettt y, fort y-yeary-year-old old face lit up, impi impishly. shly. “A “Are re you looking forward t o his ret return?” urn?” “No.” Lou said it too quickly. “It doesn’t really mean anything to me at all. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Bain, I ... I intend to leave as soon as his telegram arrives. I believe it’s quite easy to get a t empor emporary ary pos postt in on one e of t he ttowns. owns.”” “You don’t want t o see Ros Ross?” s?” t he ot her woma woman n asked cur curious iously ly.. Lou’s young features looked sharp and rather said. “No, I don’t I’m very grateful to him for bringing me here to you. You’ve been so very kind and I’ve never felt more at home, but ... well, this seems the time to break away. I’ll keep in touch with Mrs. Randall at Vima Hotel, and if I possibly can, I’ll take charge of Keith when they go back to Singapore. But I’m not going back t o Muler Mulera—ever. a—ever.”” “You know what ’s best for you, I suppose. suppose.”” Mrs. Bai Bain n said it lilight ght ly ly,, but her usually mer merry ry glance was keen. “What if Ross wants you to live there after he’s married, to look after the

 

child?” Lou lost lost a lilitt t le col color. or. “I wouldn’ wouldn’tt do it it,,” she said briefly, and t urned t o t he door. A few minutes later she was backing the car out of the shed and setting the windscreen-

 wipers on t he move. R Rain ain beat in t hrough t he open window, and she wound it up, to find t hat  wit hin seconds t he window windows s were obscured b by y vapor vapor.. So tthe he window had t o remain open and t he hood of her coat had t o be fastened at her throat so that her ha hair ir shoul should d not be drenched. It was a journey rather worse than she had anticipated. The road was thick red mud with rivers coursing between boulders and the verges submerged. Lou sweated within the raincoat but was cooled by the rain that washed across her cheeks and ran down to her chin. She drove carefully round the couple of hairpin bends, negotiated a river that crossed the road and climbed a low hill which, on clear days, gave a five-mile distant view of the Lake. Today the view was limited to a dozen yards of rain-washed jungle. She saw an uprooted tree which had miraculously fallen backwards into the growth, and an untidy straggle of pineapples which had presumabl presu mably y been heaped som somewhere ewhere tto o await t rans ransport. port. Then the hot mist from the lowlands closed in and she saw nothing except shadows and sudden tree branches which warned her that she was running off the road. The car crawled, and even with the window down there was a thick mist inside the windscreen. Had Mrs. Bain forgotten this condition when she had given permission for the drive? Perhaps she had thought the wind and rain would take care of the mist; but there was no wind now, and the rain had thinned. Lou drove on at about fifteen miles an hour. There was a patch of better visibility and she accelerated and congratulated herself. All this, for Greg Allwyn, who might have had a little sense today and stayed wherever he was camped. Still, it was good to be doing something. She liked the Bains, but being shut up in the house with nothing to do was apt to rasp the nerves. And she w was as glad she had been able t o speak so plainl plainly y about her plans. It had been a good idea, if sudden, t o confide in Mr Mrs. s. Bai Bain n at a t im ime e when she cou could ld not ask many quest questions. ions. T hen, sickeni sickeningly ngly,, it came tto o Lou tthat hat if her plan were successf successful, ul, she wou would ld never see Ross again. She felt sharp agony in her throat, her eyes glazed and her fingers tightened convulsively on the wheel. The next moment a huge black shape loomed just beyond the nose of t he car car.. She swung lleft eft and brake braked, d, felt t he t err errib ible le jjolt olt w whic hich h t hrew her forward agai against nst t he  wheel, and lost consciousness. T he great sabl sable e buck did not pause in its gall gallop op acros across s t he mud ttowards owards tthe he mor more e abundant sheltt er of t he t re shel rees. es. Mrs. Bain read another chapter, made some tea and gave her husband a cup as he came in from shedding his oilskins. They drank companionably, talked about the effect of unseasonal rain on their crops and upon the thatched huts of their laborers, and agreed that so long as the roads were not too bad there might be quite a crowd searching for light entertainment at t he Vim Vima a H Hot otel el ttoni onight ght Mr Mr.. Bai Bain n t hought it mi might ght be a good idea t o load hi his s proj project ector or and screen; the hotel proprietor owned a few old films which were always good for a laugh on a rainy day. He went off to take a bathe, and Mrs. Bain once more opened her book and lost herself in it; she was an avid reader. So much so that she did not hear the noise of a car above the rain, and when t here cam came e a t att at t oo at t he door sh she e jum jumped ped ala alarm rming ingly ly.. The door opened, and she exclaimed cheerfully, “Why, Ross! We thought you were still in

 

England.” He dropped his coat outside, came in with the long easy stride and closed the door. “What a day to come home home tto! o! Seei Seeing ng tthat hat my two w weeks eeks a aren’ ren’tt qui quitt e up I t hought I woul wouldn’t dn’t bot her to t elegraph from England. How’s everyth everything?” ing?” “Fine. Do sit down—I’ll get you a drink.” He looked looked about him. “No pat pattt er of lilitt t le feet?” “Keith?” she said. “He’s with Elinor and George Randall at the Vima Hotel. They like it better there than at Lakeside. You didn’t mind our letting him go?”

“Of course not. Why shouldn’t he visit his aunt?” Ross took that glass he offered. “Thanks. You seem t o be alone here. here.”” For some reason, Mrs. Bain began to feel uneasy; to give herself time she turned to mix herself a drink she she did not want . “Bil “Bill’l’s s t aking a show shower er.. Di Did d you arrange for Mrs. Acland t o see a specialist? specialist?”” He nodded. I t ook her myself. She has t o t ake it easy easy.. No more jjaunt aunt s out here, I’ I’m m afraid, but t here’s no reason why she shouldn’t live tto o a good old age.” age.” “I’m glad. Did Paula come back with you?” “No.” The reply was flat and uncompromising. “Except for the rain, it seems awfully quiet round here.” “Y “Yes, es, it doe does, s, doesn’t it? it?”” she said hurri hurriedly. edly. “We w were ere going down t o t he hot el for dinner dinner,, but if you...” “Why shouldn’t we w e all go, so long as the road is usable? There may be some mist mist down t here but my wagon has fog lights.” He drank, gave her a brief, impersonal glance, then asked, “What’s wrong? Aren’t I welcome?” “Don’t “Don ’t be ab absurd. surd. II’ll ’ll t ell Bi Billll you’re here.” “There’s no hurry. But you can call Lou, if you like.” “Lou?” she said, and knew she sounded inane. “Lou’s out out..” “Down with wit h t he Rand Randall alls s for t he day?” “No, not for tthe he day. She went out at about four. four.”” “Four?” Swift calculation calculat ion went on behind t he greeni greenish-brow sh-brown n someone?”

eyes. “Was she with

Mrs. Bain wished he wouldn’t look at her as if it were a crime to let Lou please herself. “No, she was alone, in my old car. She had promised to go to Vima. I did tell her they wouldn’t expect her on a day like like t his, but she was afraid t hey ..... mi might ght .” His glass met the table with a slight reverberation. “I got in at the airstrip at four. It was t umbli umbling ng down. Why di did d you let her go?”

 

“I didn’t really think much about it,” said Mrs. Bain, annoyed with herself because not even her husband had ever made her nervous enough t o quiver so foolishly foolishly.. “She seemed to t hink it  was necessary because t his man would be expect expecting ing her. her.”” “What man?” he shot shot out Mrs. Bain shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. She said he doesn’t take care of himself. She ran into him yesterday and they made the arrangement for today. You know how it is when you meet someone you haven’t seen ffor or some time. time.”” “Apparently I don’t,” he said sharply. “I can’t imagine any date that couldn’t be postponed by t his ki kind nd of rain. rain.”” He w was as already on his feet . “I’m “I’m going down t o Vima. Vima.”” To Mrs. Bain, t his was a relief. “Yes, “Y es, do,” she said. “Bill and I will follow an and d we we’ll ’ll all have dinne dinnerr t oget her. And Ross, if you.. you....” But he was gone, slamming the door after him. Mrs. Bain stood still for a long moment listening to the rain and the engine of the estate car. Then there was only the rain, and she  went along t o t he main bedroom, where she ffound ound her husband u using sing t wo hairbr hairbrushes ushes in t he

best mi mililitt ary st style yle on the dimini diminishing shing grey hair at his temples. “Ross is back,” back,” she said, “and I’ve a horrid feeli feeling ng t hat Paul Paula a has t urned him down. down.”” “Did he say anyt anyt hing about about her?” “No, but he looks fit t o ..... t o hurt someone. someone.”” Smilingly, Mr. Bain said, “Don’t fret about it. That’s what young people are always doing— hurting hurt ing someone or each othe otherr. As a plant planter er,, Ross iis s t erri erribly bly mat mat ure, but he ’s always regarded  women as saplings t o be kept free of weeds an and d prot ect ed from t he winds. Paul Paula a may be ttoo oo old a hand to t o care for it.” Mrs. Bain looked he herr surprise at him. “Wh “Why, y, Bil Bill, l, how wise y you ou are are..” He looked complacent. “I’ll go one step further. A man like Ross would be far happier with a girl who’s int intell elligent igent,, but only jjust ust awakening. awakening.”” His wife stared at him. “Good heavens,” she said soberly, “I believe you’re right. I do hope Lou got t hrough t o Vim Vima a without any trouble. trouble.”” At t hat mom moment ent Lou was driv driving ing at crawl crawlin ing g pace t owards tthe he L Lake. ake. T here was a cont contusi usion on high up on the right side of her forehead which smarted pretty badly and she was still a little dazed after the brief spell of unconsciousness, but by concentrating she could keep the car moving at about fifteen miles an hour, and even though it still rained and was misty, she was nearer her goal every minut minut e. There was no sign of another vehicle, and it was too late for Greg, anyway. Possibly he had come to the halfway point waited a bit and then given her up. It was the sensible thing to do. Her own course was clear. She must reach the Vima Hotel and clean up the mess on her forehead before making her presence known to the Randalls and Keith. By the time the Bains arrived for cocktails she might be feeling almost bright. She noticed her hand trembling on the  wheel and held itit more tight ly. ly. You don ’t lose your ner nerve ve over a beast ly cow or somet hing tthat hat decides to hurry across the road in front of the only car in a twenty-mile stretch. In Africa, such hazards were common, and it had merely been unfortunate that her first experience of them

 

should happen in a teeming mist mist.. Far bett er to t hin hink k of something els else; e; t he best way way,, for in inst stance, ance, of get t ing a jjob ob t hat would last a couple of months or longer. Any time now, a telegram would arrive from Ross, and she had to be well away from the Bains’ and from Chekwe within hours of its arrival. Greg might help her there. He would collect her and her luggage and drive her to Zomba or Blantyre, She really reall y must see him toda today y if she could. Her eyes closed momentarily against a wave of dizziness, but she forced them open and plugged away with the little old coupe. For a while she didn’t think of anything. Then suddenly she was aware that the mist had taken a yellow tinge, and golden lights shone blindingly through the rain and threw back a glare in the mirror. A car came level and stayed there, and  wit h an eff effort ort she t urned her head and looked at t he driver driver.. Her heart froz froze e but she braked automatically. The other car shot ahead and stopped in front of her, and within seconds Ross was  wrenching open the nearside door of t he coupe and sl slidi iding ng into t he seat . Withou Withoutt speaking, he took off the drenched hat and used a handkerchief over his steaming face, got out of his  wat erproof. Poised sed bet between ween and terror, Lou sat first a absolut bsolutely stil ill, l, st aring ahead at. t he wat er pouring overPoi t he window. Shelove coul couldn’t dn’t terror have, spoken ha had dely herst llife ife depended on it it. “So he turned up,” said Ross in a savage undertone. “Did you do your petting in this car or in his?” She moistened her lips and shook her head, was thankful that her injury was on the right side of her forehead and hidden by the t he hood. “I don’ don’tt know w what hat you’re t alki alking ng about .”

“It “It was Gr Greg eg All Allwyn wyn you cam came e t o meet wasn’t it it?” ?” “Yes, “Y es, but I haven’t seen him. him.”” “I’d “I’d rrat at her hear t he t ruth. I happen to know t hat you le left ft Mr Mrs. s. Bai Bain n at about four!” “You’re “Y ou’re the first person II’ve ’ve ever seen si since nce I left t he house. house.”” He was silent silent for a moment T hen: “It’s nearly si six. x. What have you been doing?” “T here was mis mistt and it held me up. I ... stopped st opped ffor or a w whil hile. e.”” Indist ndistinctly inctly he said, “Your cousin lost her lilife fe t ravell ravelling ing by car in a mount ain mi mist st . Didn’t Didn’t you remember rem ember t hat hat?” ?” Lou didn’t answer. Rain drummed on the roof of the car and gurgled in rivulets along the road. Lou’s fingers were still gripped whitely on the wheel, but she was breathing more easily. She had intended never to see him again yet already her heart was warming and thudding, and t ell elling ing her that t his was R Ross, oss, who had come back aft er an age in Engl England. and. She heard herself herself saying, “You “Y ou got back a litt le earl early. y.”” “I did did wha whatt I had t o, and came on t he first plane I could. could.”” “Was your aunt all right right?” ?” “Yes.”” A pause. “Why did “Yes. didn’t n’t you t ell me about t hat sl sligh ightt heart at t ack she had befor before e comi coming ng

 

to Nyasaland?” “She asked me not to. I did save her all I could while I was at Mulera.” “I know, but you should have t old me. me.”” “Your aunt had reas reasons ons for wanting it kept qui quiet et .” “I’m “I’m aware of t hem, hem,”” he said curt ly. ly. “Decent of you t o abet her her,, in such a cause. T Too oo bad I’m going goin g t o disap disappoin pointt you bot h.” h.” She did did flicker a gl glance ance at him then. “What do you mean?" He. spoke through t igh ightt t eet eeth. h. “My aunt want ed t o hang on at Mul Mulera era ttililll I propos proposed ed t o Paul Paula. a. T hat ’s why you kept her illness illness tto o yourselves, so I hear. hear.”” Lou deli deliberat berately ely held her emot emotions ions in check, but she could not help asking quickl quickly y, “You “ You said you’re going to t o disappoint us. Do you mean you ... you’re not going t o marry Paul Paula a Craddock?” “That’s right little one.” He sounded fed up and angry. “I’ve had enough of the subject of Paula. I’ve had it for weeks from Martin and my aunt, and I flatly refuse to have it from you. Paula Paul a st stayed ayed in E England. ngland. Leave iitt at t hat .” Anot her si silence. lence. Lou uncur uncurled led her fingers from t he wheel and looked at t he palm of her hand. It was as wet as she felt under the rai raincoat. ncoat. IIn n fact , her whole body throbbed wit with h damp heat heat,, but her spir spirits its h had ad lilift ft ed a lilitt t le. “I’m “I’m gl glad ad Paula won’t ha have ve Kei Keitt h,” h,” she said. “It’s nice that you’re glad,” was his cynical reply. And then, with a thread of iron in his tones, “What ’s on wit with h you and Greg again? I cleared hi him m out out..” “We met by accident yest yesterday. erday. He tthinks hinks I can help him m make ake a decision.” decision.” “Oh, sure. Anyone else can make their own decisions, but not Greg. He’s found someone  who’s all sympat sympathy hy for t he weak, and he’s not going t o let go t ililll she refuses t o be

hoodwinked.” His ton hoodwinked.” tone e changed. “You’re “Y ou’re not t o see Greg again—do you hear? L Let et him go back t o forest ry—if tthey’l hey’lll have hi him. m.”” “You’re awfully hard, Ross. Greg could do a good job if he were helped. In time, he would have managed Mulera even t o your sat isfact isfaction; ion; you didn’t give him a chance. chance.”” “I couldn’t couldn’t keep him at Muler Mulera. a. He made it im impossibl possible e whe when n he asked you t o marry hi him!” m!” She half-turned to him. “I don’t see why...” she began, and tailed off in fright at the darkness and fury f ury of his expression. “Jab the knife right home and twist it,” he said tightly. “I still can’t decide whether you’re completely innocent of your own powers or using them for all you’re worth! You’ve resented every damn thing I’ve tried to do for you, given affection and sympathy to a man you couldn’t possibly possibl y love enough t o marry. I can t ake just so much!” She lifted a nervous finger and wiped sweat from the side of her nose. Even in his anger Ross must have noticed the gesture. He pushed back the hood of her coat, told her to undo t he but buttt ons, and llift ifted ed t he coat from her shoul shoulders ders an and d lai laid d it over t he back of t he seat. Then he wound up the window for several inches. The turquoise frock left Lou’s shoulders bare

 

except for the narrow straps. They were slim shoulders, and he seemed conscious of the heaviness of his own hand over t he ffine ine skin. His His hand d dropped, ropped, he st udied her profile. “Haven’t you been sleeping?” he asked. “Oh, “O h, yes. yes.”” “You “Y ou haven’t much color color..” She tried to smile, without looking at him. “What with the rain and the heat, I’ve lost my make-up.” Somehow, sarcasm got back int Somehow, into o his voice. “Haven’t been pining for me, by any chance, have you?” Her mout mout h t rembl rembled, ed, t reacherousl reacherously. y. “A “Are re we going on t o Vima?” “Presently. There’s something I want to understand before we get moving. You’re different, Louise.” “Am I?” He waited a minute before saying, “I’ll tell you why I didn’t send a wire to announce my depart ure from E England. ngland. It occurred to me t hat Elinor Elinor m might ight h have ave ttaken aken over K Keit eith—she’s h—she’s been very keen to have him—and that the moment you knew I was on my way home you’d get yourself yours elf lo lost st t ill ill tthe he t im ime e came tto o t ake Kei Keitt h back into t he fold. Was I ri right ght?” ?” Her silence silence answered him. He drew a breat h, said wit with h leashed violence, “It’s amaz amazing ing what I know about you, isn’t it? Amazing that one person can learn so much about another without gettt ing the same respons get response! e! But we can’t go on for ever lilike ke t hi his. s.”” Roughly, he took her shoulders and turned her towards him. Then he saw the red swelling up near her hair line and grey eyes that were near to tears. His violence fell away, suddenly and almost compl complet et ely ely.. He drew her close, pressed his cheek t o her t emple and sli slipped pped ffingers ingers under her hair, t o keep her t here. “Tell me about it,” he said thickly. She managed it, haltingly and in muffled tones, and ended, “I passed out, but not for long. But I daren’t go on driving till I was sure of myself, so I just sat there till I felt capable again. It doesn’t hurt much.” She gave a shaky laugh. “It was better than bumping the cow.”

“It was probably a buck. Even out here we shut up cows in bad weather. I keep a first-aid kit in the wagon. I’ll back up level so that you only have to step from this door into the seat.” “But we can’t abandon t he coupe. coupe.”” “It’ll be all right. We’ll get it shipshape for Mrs. Bain tomorrow.” He managed the transfer swiftly, and with a gentleness that Lou tried to ignore. With her coat about her she s slilid d from the coupe int into o t he est estat ate e car, and was rel reliev ieved ed t o find tthe he air cool cool,, the spacious interior empty. While he found an iodized dressing and fastened it over the graze, she watched his lean face with a wondrous dawning hope. He was so very gentle, actually  winced himself himself as if tthe he hurt w were ere hi his. s.

 

He was closing the box and pushing it back into its compartment when he said offhandedly, “Y “You’re ou’re begi beginning nning tto o reali realize ze t hat I’m in llove ove wit with h you, arent arent’’ you?” She was, yet the spoken words were a delicious shock. “Ross, I can’t believe it. We ... we’ve never got really close. It ... it seems...” “Yes, I know.” He sounded a little grim. “Every blamed thing was against us. But it’s true. It’s time we did get a little close—time you stopped using the rapier. I know I’ve been a brute occasionally, but somehow it wasn’t to be avoided. There were people all round us—troubles galore, and most of them didn’t concern us, though we had to be dragged into them. Even this aft ernoon you w were ere on your way t o Greg—ri Greg—risking sking your llife ife for him. How could you, Lou!” “It wasn’t as bad as that. I really can’t help feeling sorry for him.” She stared at him, her cheeks hot. “You ... you did say you love me, just now?” “Yes, I said it!” “Y “You ou call called ed me L Lou, ou, for t he first t im ime. e.”” “Did I? I? Have you any not ion at all why II’ve ’ve always call called ed you Louise?” “I t hought it was tto o be di different fferent .” “You were absolutely absolut ely right . It made our rel relat at ionshi ionship p just sli slight ght ly di diff fferent erent from any ot her her.” .” A pause. “It do doesn’t esn’t make much iimpressi mpression, on, does it t o know t hat I love you?” She quivered. “It goes so deep into me that ... that I can’t speak about it. And it seems so utterly improbable. You’ve been so angry lately...” “Hell! How much of it do you suppose I can st “Hell! stand? and? II’ve ’ve been badgered ffrom rom all sides, and you yourself were battering at me almost up to the last minute before I left.” He faced her, looking lean and dark-eyed. “I went away ffeeli eeling ng as if II’d ’d lleft eft my llife ife behind—it w was as shat t ering. ering.”” She said breathlessly, “You look vital enough now. Oh, Ross...” He took her into his arms then, to demonstrate just how vital he could be. He was kissing her hard and hungrily, and each kiss sent wild ttremors remors al along ong her nerves. At last she drew her head back, and looked at him with the rapt expression of one who knows she is in heaven and yet can’t entirely believe it. And Ross looked back at her with mounting mount ing passion iin n his eyes, t he incredi incredible, ble, exulta exultant nt passion of a lover. “I didn’t didn’t t hink you’d ever fall in llove, ove,”” she wh whispered, ispered, “and never wit h me. me.”” He laughed suddenly. “It’s certainly more tormenting than I expected, but I’m thankful to the roots t hat I’v ’ve e found you. you.”” “I’ve always thought of the antagonism between us as being fundamental. It was so real.”

He let her relax a little in his arms. “It was Keith—didn’t you realize that? He brought us together, but you don’t marry because you’ve been made co-guardians of a child. And ever since you made your first impression on Martin Craddock I’ve had the horrible suspicion that you’d marry marry jjust ust t o give K Keith eith t he right kind of a home. home.””

 

“It isn’ isn’tt t rue. When Greg off offered ered it it....” ‘Tell me something,” he said a little tensely, “and be quite honest. Would you be prepared to let Elinor Elinor and G George eorge have Kei Keitt h for good?” She looked straight at him. “It wouldn’t be right, would it?” “If I demanded it, would you be pr prepared?” epared?” he repeat ed st stiffly. iffly. “ Ye Yes s .. .... yes, I wo would.” uld.” His laugh was a trifle unsteady. “All right, I’m not going to demand it. All I stipulate is that we get in a honeymoon while tthey’re hey’re iin n charge of him. him.”” She did something somet hing she had ne never ver,, even in dreams, conceived of as possibl possible e t o Lou Pr Prent ent ice; she held his face in her hands. “I love you,” she said, “and I’ll always love Keith because he’s the reason I’m here. But the way I love you is impossible to explain. I’ve been so mixed up ... and disgust ingly jealous, II’m ’m afraid.” He kissed her quickly. “I wanted you to be jealous—it got our feelings right away from Keith. Besides, Besi des, I had my share—I even hat hated ed your st uff uffy y Arnold What shisname iin n England. England.”” “Poor Arnold. He’ll marry someone obedient and never know what he’s missed in life. You know,” mischievously, “you and I don’t really agree on the upbringing of children.” “We’ll get along, and besides, we shan’t start off on the job as we did with Keith—as strangers!” Her high color amused him, and he hugged her. “We’ll have wonderful times. I’ll take you up t o t he Mediterranean fo forr a honeymoon, and when I’ I’ve ve got a chap t o run Mul Mulera era we’ll go over to England and see how Maudie’s going on. You have a brother I ought to meet, too.” He stopped, and his tone went casual. “By the way,” he said into her hair, “I told my aunt that I’m going t o marry you. you.”” “Y “You ou did?” She w was as very st ill, ill, list listening. ening. “She was w as overjoyed. overjoyed.”” “T hat sounds a lilitt t le tall. Your aunt was t erri erribly bly keen for you tto o marry marry Paul Paula a Craddock. Craddock.”” “She’s keen for me to t o marr marry y, full sto stop. p. Paul Paula a was t he only unat unattt ached woman w who ho ever came t o t hese par partt s, and over t he year years s we dri drift ft ed t oget ogether her.. I’ I’m m not goi going ng t o say I never thought of marrying her, I thought of it several times, because Martin kept hinting, as well as Maudie. I’d have liked liked t o please bot both h of t hem, but I just w wasn’t asn’t in love wit with h Paula. Paula.”” “Y “Yet et at Elinor’ Elinor’s s wedding, Paul Paula a was so sure t hat she said she’ she’d d marry iin n Oct ober. ober.”” “Look here, honey,” he said, “do you really want to hear the distasteful details? I’m willing to forget t hem. hem.”” “If I know them, I can forget too. Please, Ross.” He shrugged, and put her back against the upholstery. His hand gestured. “Paula’s one of your modern types. When she’s made a decision and she needs co-operation she asks for it. After my aunt was fixed up in London, I kept a promise to Paula and went down to her country place. For about three hours, Paula, her manager and I were shut up in the house—it was

 

raining almost as hard as this. Paula played us two men against each other—to me it was blatant, and I rather pitied Jim Mordaunt; he’s got a bad case for his employer, and I believe he’d already already ttold old her he want wanted ed t o marr marry y her or get out . I decided tto o put him out of his mi misery. sery.”” “How could could you do t hat hat?” ?” “By ment ioni ioning, ng, rat rather her casuall casually, y, t hat when I got back here II’d ’d ask you t o marry m me. e.”” Lou went pale. “O “Oh, h, good heavens. What did Paul Paula a do?” He grinned. “What do you suppose? She gave a delighted laugh that didn’t ring false at all, and said how peculiar, because she and Jim were getting married soon—in fact they’d chosen October. I knew it was a surprise to Jim, and suggested drinks so that he shouldn’t appear too st staggere aggered. d. And t hat hat’s ’s ho how w we parted. parted.”” “But do you t hink she car cares es for him?” “She likes likes him him—it’s —it’s even possible that he’s mor more e t he t ype she could love tthan han I am am.. Certainly she was never in in love wi witt h me, but she knew me fir first st and was quite convi convinced nced tthat hat it w woul ould d be charming to have a plantation in Africa as well as an estate of her own in England. Besides, she’s snob enough to feel it’s a come down to marry one’s bailiff. But now that Jim accepts the situat situ at ion as iitt is, he may manage her just as expert ly as he manages her propert propert y. y.”” “I hope so,” said Lou soberly. “I’m afraid Martin will be disappointed.” “What t he deuce! We c can’t an’t sat isfy isfy everyo everyone—and ne—and iitt does happen that he lilikes kes both you and Jim Mordaunt! He’ll be getting spliced himself one of these days and bothering more about his own domest ic affairs. affairs.”” “And you’re sure sure about your aunt?” “Maudie only had tto “Maudie o t hin hink k about it ffor or a m minute inute before she s saw aw how much bett er iitt would be for me to have someone young and tractable. Only Maudie doesn’t know the half of it. You’re about as ttractable ractable as a ram ramrod!” rod!” Lou said, said, “I knew P Paula aula wasn’t reall really y in llove ove wit h you—and t hat you weren’t reall really y in llove ove wit h her. But everyone seemed to expect you two to marry.” She paused, and on the point of telling him about that afternoon when she had called on Paula and subsequently scratched his car, she stopped. None of it mattered very much now. But one other thing was rather important. She broached broa ched it warily. “Ross “Ross,, I know you d disli islike ke Greg.. Greg....” “Not so much as I did.” “That’s good, because I’d like you to help him a little. He’s backsliding again...” “Was that t hat why you c came ame o out ut in t he ra rain in t oday?” She nodded. “He said yest erday t hat I mi might ght be able t o help him m make ake a decision. decision.”” “That’s off,” he said crisply. “Yes, I know.” She sounded most submissive. “But y “But yo o u could do it. He’s just aimless again, and I t hi hink nk t hat what he real really ly ne needs eds is isn’t n’t a woman t o bat t en on at al all. l. He needs som someone eone lilike ke you—only not when you’re cant cantankerous. ankerous. You’ve admi admitt t ed he was doing well at Mulera. Mulera.””

 

“I won’t have him at Mul Mulera!” era!” “All right. Then think up an alternative for him. There must be another planter somewhere

 who needs an assist assistant ant .” “No wife would be safe wit h All Allwyn wyn around!” “Y “You’re ou’re prej prejudiced, udiced, and it it’s ’s unfair. Greg ttold old me tthat hat he’d never reali realiz z ed t ililll he came tto o Muler Mulera a how much he’d lilike ke a st ake in a plant at ion. Well Well,, if he w were ere an assist assistant ant ...” Ross put one arm round her and his other hand over her lips. “This is my last word about Greg. If I can, I’ll get hold of a small slice of land for him and run him up a shack. What he makes of it will be up t o him. him.”” She smiled and kissed the palm which covered her mouth and by the small adoring action Ross was vanquished. He was cruel and ttender, ender, laughing and passi passionat onat ely iint nt ent . “My dearest lovely darling,” he said, in various ways. Later, he took time off to look at the rain, and regretfully he started the car. They swished down t he ro road. ad. He glanced at Lou fleetingly and smiled. “Everyone will know what’s happened to us the minute we w e go into t he hot el. Wil Willl you m mind?” ind?” “I want t he world t o know,” she sighed happily. “I llove ove you so much, R Ross!” oss!” “Careful, now. I refuse t o look at you again t ill ill we get t here!” Laughter bubbled in her throat, an overflow from the happiness which filled her heart. She saw a shaft of muted light in the dusk and knew it was from the dying sun, and she thought about tomorrow, when the rain would have left a clean and sparkling world, new-minted for herself and Ross. THE END