Benita smiled.

"I think you had better stick to the horsebreeding," she said.

"You shall judge when you hear the story. But you have been brought up
in England; will you not be afraid to go to Lake Chrissie?"

"Afraid of what?" she asked.

"Oh! of the loneliness, and of Jacob Meyer."

"I was born on the veld, Father, and I have always hated London. As for
your odd friend, Mr. Meyer, I am not afraid of any man on earth. I have
done with men. At the least I will try the place and see how I get on."

"Very well," answered her father with a sigh of relief. "You can always
come back, can't you?"

"Yes," she said indifferently. "I suppose that I can always come back."




V

JACOB MEYER

More than three weeks had gone by when one morning Benita, who slept
upon the cartel or hide-strung bed in the waggon, having dressed herself
as best she could in that confined place, thrust aside the curtain and