For the rest Dorcas was fairly comfortable, as with their means she
was always able to have a nice house in whatever town they might be
stationed, where she could give tennis parties and even little lunches
and dinners, that is if her husband chanced to be away, as often he
was visiting up-country districts, or taking the duty there for another
missionary who was sick or on leave. Indeed, in these conditions she
came to like Africa fairly well, for she was a chilly little thing who
loved its ample, all-pervading sunshine, and made a good many friends,
especially among young men, to whom her helplessness and rather forlorn
little face appealed.

The women, too, liked her, for she was kindly and always ready to help
in case of poverty or other distresses. Luckily, in a way, she was her
own mistress, since her fortune came to her unfettered by any marriage
settlements; moreover, it was in the hands of trustees, so that the
principal could not be alienated. Therefore she had her own account and
her own cheque-book and used her spare money as she liked. More than one
poor missionary's wife knew this and called her blessed, as through her
bounty they once again looked upon the shores of England or were able
to send a sick child home for treatment. But of these good deeds Dorcas
never talked, least of all to her husband. If he suspected them, after
one encounter upon some such matter, in which she developed a hidden
strength and purpose, he had the sense to remain silent.

So things went on for years, not unhappily on the whole, for as they
rolled by the child Tabitha grew acclimatised and much stronger. By this
time, although Dorcas loved her husband as all wives should, obeying him
in all, or at any rate in most things, she had come to recognise that he
and she were very differently constituted. Of course, she knew that
he was infinitely her superior, and indeed that of most people. Like