“It sounds awful,” said Myra, shivering.

“It’s nature.”

“Thank goodness we are not like the animals in the jungle,” said Lilias.

“People find themselves facing dangers sometimes,” I could not help saying.

Roger Lestrange was looking intently at me. “How right you are, Miss Grey. We are all in a jungle of sorts. Ours is different, of course … but the dangers are there.”

“What a morbid conversation!” cried Mrs. Ellington. “Mr. Ellington will be returning home tomorrow. I am sure you will be pleased, Roger. Then you won’t have to see so much of us tiresome females.”

“They are far from tiresome! I promise I shall try to see more and more of their delightful company.”

It was not long before the conversation turned back to Africa and I learned more about that country during that tea party than I had known before.

Roger Lestrange said he could see trouble coming. The Boers resented British rule in South Africa. There had been discontent since the British came in as far back as 1814. They were far too eager to give privileges to the black races since they had brought in emancipation of slavery. This had crippled the farmers for it deprived them of free labour.

He talked of Cecil Rhodes who had founded the state of Rhodesia and had wanted British rule all over Africa; of how he had shared that dream with a man called Leander Starr Jameson who, two years before, had been engaged in the famous raid which had ended in disaster for him.

We all remembered hearing of the Jameson Raid, but had either forgotten or never really known what it was all about.

“Jameson was a hothead,” said Roger Lestrange. “That was surprising because he was a doctor. He was born in your city. You did say you came from Edinburgh? He studied medicine there and came out to practise in Kimberley where he became friendly with Cecil Rhodes. There was a good deal of trouble between the Uitlander party (those are the people settled there who are not Boers—mostly English) and the Boer government.

The President was Stephanus Johannes Paulus Kruger, usually known as Paul Kruger. You must have heard of him.”

“We have heard of him most certainly,” said Mrs. Ellington grimly. “There was all that trouble about the letter sent by the German Kaiser congratulating him.”

“Ah, yes, that was about the Jameson Raid. Rhodes and Jameson had planned together to surprise the Boers west of Johannesburg. Rhodes then decided that the plan could not succeed and called the whole thing off. But, as I said, Jameson was a hothead; he thought he could act alone and win—so he decided to carry on. When he arrived at Krugersdorp just west of Johannesburg he was surprised by a strong force of Boers, was overwhelmed and taken captive. The Jameson Raid was therefore a failure and responsibility for it was disowned by Rhodes and the British government. It was a complete disaster.”

“And nearly resulted in war between us and Germany,” said Mrs. Ellington. “Mr. Ellington was horrified at the prospect. It was a near thing. We felt we had to put that horrid Kaiser in his place.”

“However,” went on Roger Lestrange, “the British government decided that what was happening in South Africa was not worth a war with Germany and so allowed the trouble to blow over.”

“I should have liked to teach those arrogant Germans a lesson,” said Mrs. Ellington.

“The situation is explosive,” went on Roger Lestrange. “Rhodes and Kruger are very watchful of each other. The Jameson Raid may not have succeeded in what it was meant to do, but it is not forgotten.”

“I should like to see South Africa,” said Myra Ellington.

Roger Lestrange smiled at her. “Perhaps one day you will.”

Mrs. Ellington evidently felt that for too long the conversation had been out of her control and I could see she was determined to change it.

She talked about the village and the fete which was some weeks off but needed a lot of planning.

“I wonder if you will be with us then, Miss Grey,” she said.

“Diana’s plans are a little uncertain just now,” Lilias told her.

“But of course. Well, if you are … I wondered if you would take over one of the stalls?”

“I am sure I should like that,” I told her.

“And you will help, too, Roger?”

“I don’t think I should make a very good stall holder.”

“Oh, we’d find something for you to do.”

“Is there a possibility of your being here?” asked Myra.

“I am not sure how long my business will take. But I must not continue to encroach on the hospitality I have received in this house.”

“Oh, nonsense,” cried Mrs. Ellington. “It’s a pleasure to have you.”

“So kind … but I am afraid sometimes that I am imposing.”

“Nonsense. I would not hear of your leaving and going to some hotel. My husband would be most displeased … and so would I.”

He smiled at Lilias and me. “You see what a wonderful hostess I have. I consider myself most fortunate to be here.” He included us all in his smile.

Lilias was glancing at her watch. It was five-thirty, I saw from my own. I knew that visits with Mrs. Ellington were usually on village business and given a limited time.

And now it was clearly the time for us to depart.

We thanked Mrs. Ellington and said goodbye.

Mr. Lestrange, with Myra Ellington, accompanied us out to the dogcart.

As we turned out of the drive, Lilias said to me: “Well, what did you think of that?”

“Very interesting. I enjoyed hearing about South Africa. I think Myra Ellington is quite fond of him.”

“Exactly my impression. It would be nice for her if he married her. I think she would like a husband.”

“I wonder how she would feel about leaving home?”

“She was very eager to hear about Africa.”

“Well, we shall see.”

THE NEXT DAY I had a letter from Zillah. She had written once before. She really seemed to care and to understand my feelings.

My dear, dear Davina,

I hesitated whether I should call you Diana, but somehow it seemed going a bit too far. But perhaps I should have, in case this falls into someone else’s hands. You will have to destroy it as soon as you have read it—which sounds rather dramatic.

How are you getting on? I think a great deal about you. But I’m sure you did right to go and become Diana. You’re going to feel better … calmer and all that.

It seems very strange here without you. People are different. Well, I fancied those round here never much approved of me—so I don’t miss them. I keep saying “I must tell Davina that” and then … you’re not there.

Do let me know how things are.

By the way, your Ninian Grainger has called twice. Really, it is most extraordinary! And, I think, a little indiscreet!

I hinted this but he shrugged it off. He gets me to talk about myself. He’s very inquisitive. I suppose he gets so used to asking questions that it’s a habit with him. He’s attentive. Perhaps I ought to ask him what his intentions are! Pretty obvious, I suppose. But I am rather surprised.

Well, it makes a diversion.

He took me out to dinner one evening. I am sure he thought I was going to ask him in when he brought me home. There’s men for you! I suppose I ought to send him about his business. Then I remember that he did get you off and I’m tremendously grateful to him for that.

I thought I might go to London for a little spell. I feel I want to get away.

Do write. I am thinking such a lot about you.

Lots and lots of love,

ZILLAH

I sat back, the letter in my hand. I was thinking of Ninian Grainger, and I was disappointed in him. I had thought he had some regard for me, but from the moment he had seen Zillah he had become bemused by her. I thought of those sessions together when we had talked so earnestly and the most important thing in the world to him seemed to be to prove me Not Guilty. I remembered that when the verdict had been given, he had held my hands and I had seen with emotion the joy in his face; and, smarting as I was from Jamie’s desertion, I had felt uplifted by it. At that moment I had seen so clearly what Jamie’s affection for me had really been. It had simply grown out of the meeting between two lonely people in the streets of Edinburgh; and so we had believed ourselves to be in love—but it was a love which had wafted away on the first harsh wind.

I had seen it then for what it was and I had allowed myself to believe that Ninian’s care for me—I might say his dedication— was of a very different calibre.

I must remember, of course, that I had been in a hysterical state of mind. I had just stood on trial for my life. I should have realised that my relationship with Ninian was that between an advocate and his client in a case which, if he won, could greatly enhance his reputation.

He had not had a clear win, but still he had triumphed to some extent.

That was all it was; and I had seen in it the beginnings of a deep friendship which might lead to something deeper. That was because I was naive, completely unworldly. As soon as my attractive stepmother had appeared he had lost interest in me.

And now he was actually pursuing her! I felt dismayed and bitterly disappointed.

I could not get the thought of him and Zillah out of my mind. It had affected me more deeply than I had thought possible.

Lilias was aware of my depression and tried hard to interest me in village affairs. I could now ride reasonably well and that provided a diversion. We went out often and I began to know some of the villagers quite well.

As the daughter of the vicarage, Lilias was expected to call on the inhabitants from time to time—especially those who were infirm. She explained to me that Jane was well occupied in the house and this task naturally fell to her, Lilias. She had developed quite an aptitude for it and took the burden off her father’s shoulders.

“They’re all interested to see you. Some of them are confined to their houses and a new face in the village creates a lot of interest.”

That was how I came to be with her when she paid her periodical call on Mrs. Dalton.

She always explained to me a little about these people on the way to them so that I had some idea of what I was going to find.

As we rode along she said: “Mrs. Dalton is an interesting old lady. She must be all of eighty and has lived in this village all her life. She had six children—four girls and two boys. Two of them went abroad—one to America, one to New Zealand—and it is a sore point with her that she doesn’t see those grandchildren as well as their parents. They keep in touch and it’s a great day when she hears from them. The whole village soon learns the contents of the letter. She’s an inveterate gossip and a purveyor of scandal. It’s all she has to do. She can only just move about and she’s in her chair most of the day … just sitting … looking out of the window. Two of the daughters and a daughter-in-law live nearby, and take it in turns to come in and look after her—so there is no worrying on that score. But she loves to have visitors and there is usually a stream of them going in and out. One of the grandchildren goes in to read the paper to her every day; then she relates what she has heard to her visitors. She’s bright and uncomplaining as long as she can get plenty of people to talk to her.”

“I’ll be interested to see her. I like meeting them all. It’s a different way of life here from what I have ever known before.”

“Oh, you’ll be amused by Eliza Dalton.”

We walked across the green to the cottage. The door was on the latch, so Lilias knocked then opened it and walked in.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dalton. Is it all right if we come in?”

“Oh, it’s you, Miss Lilias? Yes … yes … come in. I’m all alone.”

“I’ve brought Miss Grey to see you. Remember, she is staying with us.”

“So you’re Miss Grey.” She peered at me intently. “Nice to meet you. A friend of Miss Lilias. I’ve heard all about you.”

I felt that uneasy qualm and immediately suppressed it.

“Bring up your chair close, so that I can see you.”

“And how are you, Mrs. Dalton?” asked Lilias.

“Well, it’s my rheumatics … come and go, they do. Some days worse than others. The weather don’t help, I can tell you.”

“No. I suppose not. Tell me about the family.”

“Charley’s doing well. Got his own bit of land. He had to go all the way to New Zealand to get it. He says he’s got on quicker out there than he could here. And his daughter’s getting married. My granddaughter and me not there to see her wed. What do ‘ee think of that?”