IX


At Cape Town I saw the High Commissioner--a gentle old man with
delicate hands. He had lived two-thirds of his life, and passed the
virile period.

The responsibility of taking my husband to Pretoria was more than I
could assume alone; my strength was nearly spent. Doctors Thomas and
Scholtz assisted me in every way. Although called separately, and not
in consultation, these two gentlemen were far too broad-minded and
generously interested in our welfare to stand upon professional
etiquette. Dr. Scholtz accepted the post of medical attendant on the
journey up-country, and one of the last faces which I saw at Cape Town
as our train drew out was that of Dr. Thomas, who had left a critical
case to hurry down in order to wish us God-speed.

Jessie Rose Innes had come too, wild night though it was. Under her
tweed cape she had brought from her home at Rondebosch a basket filled
with food--fresh butter, chicken jelly, extract of coffee, and a
home-made cake for 'Jacky boy.' Dear heart of gold! there was no need
of words between us that sorrowful night.

Trotting along beside the slowly-moving train, Sir James Sivewright
held my hands thrust through the open window.

'When the worst comes, you'll do all you can to help us, Sir James?' I