hours, and felt that, notwithstanding the cold and exposure, save for
stiffness and a certain numb feeling in her head--the result, perhaps,
of the unaccustomed brandy--she was well and, what was more, quite
hungry.

Outside on the verandah she heard the voice of Jacob Meyer, with which
she seemed already to have become familiar, telling some natives to stop
singing, as they would wake the chieftainess inside. He used the
Zulu word Inkosi-kaas, which, she remembered, meant head-lady or
chieftainess. He was very thoughtful for her, she reflected, and was
grateful, till suddenly she remembered the dislike she had taken to the
man.

Then she looked round her room and saw that it was very pretty, well
furnished and papered, with water-colour pictures on the walls of no
mean merit, things that she had not expected in this far-off place. Also
on a table stood a great bowl of arum lilies. She wondered who had put
them there; whether it were the old half-breed, Sally, or Jacob Meyer.
Also she wondered who had painted the pictures, which were all of
African scenery, and something told her that both the flowers and the
pictures came from Jacob Meyer.

On the little table by her bed was a handbell, which presently she rang.
Instantly she heard the voice of Sally calling for the coffee "quick,"
and next minute the woman entered, bringing a tray with it, and bread
and butter--yes, and toast and eggs, which had evidently been made ready
for her. Speaking in English mixed with Dutch words, she told Benita
that her father was still in bed, but sent her his love, and wished to
know how she did. Then, while she ate her breakfast with appetite, Sally
set her a bath, and subsequently appeared carrying the contents of the