"there are some very good people among the Boers, and besides, you used
to be a great 'patriot.'"

"Used to be--yes; and so the trees used to bend to the north when the
wind blew that way, but now they bend to the south, for the wind
has turned. By-and-by it may set to the north again--that is another
matter--then we shall see."

Bessie made no answer beyond pursing up her pretty mouth and slowly
picking a leaf from the vine that trailed overhead.

The big Dutchman took off his hat and stroked his beard perplexedly.
Evidently he was meditating something that he was afraid to say. Twice
he fixed his cold eyes on Bessie's fair face, and twice looked down
again. The second time she took alarm.

"Excuse me one minute," she said, and made as though to enter the house.

"_Wacht een beeche_" (wait a bit), he ejaculated, breaking into Dutch
in his agitation, and even catching hold of her white dress with his big
hand.

Drawing the dress from him with a quick twist of her lithe form, she
turned and faced him.

"I beg your pardon," she said, in a tone that could not be called
encouraging: "you were going to say something."

"Yes--ah, that is--I was going to say----" and he paused.