For an instant, they faced each other, a merry boy and girl. Then
Weldon's lips straightened resolutely, and he bowed.

"I will do my best," he answered slowly.

Half an hour later, he joined her at the gangway and took forcible
possession of her hand luggage.

"Surely," he said, in answer to her objections; "you will let me do
you this one last little service."

"Not if you call it that," she said quietly. "Our acquaintance is
only just beginning. If you are to be in Cape Town for a day or two,
come and let my mother thank you for your kindness to me, all the
way out."

He took her hand, outstretched in farewell.

"Even if I come as Trooper Weldon?" he asked with a smile.

And she answered, with a prophecy of whose truth she was as yet in
ignorance,--

"Trooper Weldon will always be a welcome guest in our home."

Then her father came to claim her. When she emerged from his
welcoming embrace, she saw Weldon, cap in hand, bowing to her from
what appeared a most unseemly distance. The next moment, he had
vanished in the crowd.