THESTORTOr 
 EDEH 
 
 BYDOLFWYLLARDE
 
 THE STORY OF EDEN
 
 THE STORY OF 
 EDEN 
 
 By 
 DOLF WYLLARDE 
 
 NEW YORK i JOHN LANE COMPANY, MCMXIV 
 LONDON : JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
 
 Copyright, 
 BY JOHN LANE 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Copyright, 1906 
 BY JOHN LANE COMPANY 
 
 SEVENTH EDITION
 
 DEDICATION 
 
 Pass, mine Enemy , 
 Friend, pause and look 
 
 I, Dolf Wyllarde, 
 
 Have written this book. 
 
 2138998
 
 PART ONE
 
 The Story of Eden 
 
 PART ONE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "Where the harder natures softtn, 
 
 And the softer harden, 
 Certes, sttch things have been often 
 Since we left Eve's Garden" 
 
 THE sun was coming. 
 
 First there was nothing but clear gold radiance; 
 then long arrows of light shot across the fir-trees and 
 vineyards, which struck out spots of clear yellow on 
 the distant mountain-sides ; then the brazen disk it- 
 self. Not a cloud came with him as attendant, he 
 sprang out upon Wynberg as the round horizon of the 
 world turned just that hair's breadth upon her axis that 
 brought him into view, a round ball of burning gold, 
 he flashed up above the fir-tree belt into the empty 
 heavens awaiting him, and brought the broad cloud- 
 less African day. 
 
 The sun always shot sideways into the garden at 
 Traveller's Rest. He hurled his golden arrows across 
 the little vineyard and struck the hackia hedge with 
 sure and certain aim every day. Then he pierced the 
 trees which stood sentinel-wise round the house, and 
 having won the outer fortifications, he fought a battle 
 with the shadows of the stoep, and won. By the time 
 Mrs. Drysdale came downstairs to breakfast, he had 
 got into the room before her, and was shining bravely 
 on the cool white grapes, and the big bowl of olean- 
 ders, and the empty space waiting for the dish with the
 
 4 The Story of Eden 
 
 hot-buttered mealies. It was no use bringing in the 
 mealies until both Oswald Drysdale and his wife had 
 sat down to the table, because they liked them hot or 
 not at all, and in this particular the Kaffir servants had 
 found that they were mild, but firm. 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale loved the sun, like all good South 
 Africans. She opened the windows yet wider, and 
 pulled the blinds half-way up, and made him welcome. 
 Then she sat down to open her letters, while her hus- 
 band grunted over the paper, and the mealies appeared ; 
 after which a great peace reigned until the hot dish 
 was a thing of the past. I defy any one to eat hot but- 
 tered mealies with a proper attention to the propor- 
 tions of salt and pepper, and to talk intelligently at 
 the same time. A mealy is as little to be trifled with 
 as any other South African representative. People who 
 have lived long in the Colony know this, and treat them 
 accordingly. 
 
 It is impossible, in this world, to over-estimate the 
 breakfast hour, for upon the influence of eggs and 
 bacon, or tea and toast, depend the issues of many a 
 day and a day can make or mar a life. 
 
 " Ossy I have forgotten all about the Cunningham 
 girl ! " Mrs. Drysdale said, and she put down her first 
 piece of toast to say it. 
 
 "What girl?" her husband questioned, as he turned 
 the paper. " I believe we 've lost another seat, 
 Clarice. There 's a Bondman in. Won't you have 
 some marmalade?" 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale helped herself absently. It was the 
 toast which had set her thinking of a neglected duty ; 
 as she crunched, she mentally masticated her social 
 engagements at the same time. 
 
 " Why, Professor Cunningham's sister. Do attend, 
 Ossy, never mind the by-elections." 
 
 " Well, what about Cunningham ? " 
 
 ." I met him at Friedenhof, I believe the Dodds
 
 The Story of Eden 5 
 
 are the only people he visits, and he told me that 
 his sister was coming out in the Dunottar Castle, and 
 the boat was in last Tuesday." 
 
 " And this is Monday nearly a week. Well, what 
 about it?" 
 
 " Why, I said I 'd call and see if I could do anything 
 for her. She knows nothing of the Colony, and you 
 can imagine the kind of household Vine Lodge is! 
 Anthony Cunningham is a Professor of Entomology, 
 not a man. He knows all about a beetle, and nothing 
 at all about himself, much less his servants. Of course 
 the house will be uninhabitable." 
 
 As Drysdale threw himself back in his chair to laugh, 
 he looked out of the window and caught the whirr and 
 glitter of a cycle flying down the drive. " Here 's 
 Livingston," he said. 
 
 The hall door stood open after a careless custom in 
 the neighbourhood, so the early visitor did not even 
 have to unlatch it it was never locked by day ; he 
 leaned his machine against one of the pillars of the 
 stoep, and walked straight into the house and the room 
 where Drysdale and his wife were at breakfast. 
 
 " Good-morning, Drysdale," he said in a peculiarly 
 charming voice. " You have seen the paper I see 
 another seat gone ! I should like to make a bonfire 
 and destroy the electors in bundles. It would clear 
 the country a little." 
 
 As he made his inhuman speech with indifferent 
 cheerfulness, he sat down at the table, and taking a 
 bunch of grapes from the dish in front of him, began to 
 eat them. He was a man who might have been be- 
 tween fifty and sixty, for he was somewhat bald, and 
 what little hair he had was quite white, as was also his 
 pointed Vandyke beard. But his beautiful blue eyes 
 danced with a great youth, and his handsome face was 
 as fresh and healthy as a boy's. So no one ever asked 
 Beaumont Livingston's age, any more than they ques-
 
 6 The Story of Eden 
 
 tioned his right to do and say exactly what he pleased. 
 The impertinence of a gentleman may be unlimited, so 
 long as he is too thorough-bred to offend. 
 
 " You have n't finished your marmalade," he said 
 coolly, peering into Mrs. Drysdale's plate. " That will 
 never do. It is such a bad example." 
 
 " Well, you need n't follow it," she retorted. " I am 
 very much distressed, Beau, I have forgotten all 
 about a girl whom I said I would go and look at, and 
 Ossy will talk about the elections and forgets to pass 
 the toast." 
 
 "Is she worth looking at?" Livingston asked as he 
 supplied the omission. 
 
 " I don't know. I have n't seen her yet ; I must 
 drive round there this morning. What is on to-day?" 
 
 " The Dodds have tennis." 
 
 " Somebody has tennis every day this week ! It is 
 my turn on Wednesday. Have you finished frowning 
 over the paper, Ossy ? I heard the cart drive round 
 some minutes since." 
 
 " What it is to be a business man ! " said Livingston, 
 lightly, as they strolled out onto the stoep. " You have 
 my sincerest sympathy, Ossy. It is going to be in- 
 fernally hot ! " 
 
 " Unless the wind changes when it will probably 
 be infernally cold ! That is the African climate over 
 which we all rave while we are in England ! " 
 
 " Have you heard Mr. Forrester's last witticism on 
 the weather? " said Mrs. Drysdale. 
 
 " I have not and I do not wish to," returned Liv- 
 ingston, pointedly. " Forrester is an Oxford man. 
 Heaven defend me from the soldier who still smells of 
 the university ! " 
 
 " He is very amusing, nevertheless. Some one was 
 condoling with him on the fearful changes of last week, 
 25 in one day three times running, was n't it ? 
 and he remarked that if one went out in Africa one
 
 The Story of Eden 7 
 
 needed to take a portmanteau and change behind a 
 hedge ! " 
 
 " Not bad," said Drysdale, as he motioned to the 
 Kaffir boy to bring the cart up to the steps. " I have 
 sometimes gone out overclothed, and come back sneez- 
 ing. So long, Clarice ! I '11 look in at the Dodds' this 
 afternoon, and bring you back, if you like." 
 
 " Yes, do. And, Ossy, don't be late. You might get 
 a set if you turned up about five." 
 
 " Have you heard that Cayley is ordered out tc 
 Simon's Town on special duty?" said Livingston, as 
 the cart rolled out of the gate. " It is a sell for Mrs. 
 Redmayne, and a good thing for his purse." 
 
 " Don't talk scandal, Beau ! I like Cissie Redmayne, 
 and I believe she is devoted to her husband." 
 
 " Devotion to a husband may I smoke ? Thanks ! 
 generally implies an equal devotion from some one 
 else ! If I were married, and my wife were devoted 
 to me, I should institute divorce proceedings pro- 
 vided always that the temperature was over seventy." 
 
 " Beau, if I did not worship the ground you tread on, 
 I should positively dislike you ! I am going to order 
 the dinner. Will you smoke on the stoep? " 
 
 " No, I must be going. I have an idea that I am 
 busy to-day. By the way, I think Ossy meant to invite 
 me to dinner ; that he did not do so was mere forget- 
 fulness ! " 
 
 " Come if you like there will be grapes at least ! 
 I shall see you this afternoon at Friedenhof ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! And you can take me home with you ! 
 Au revoir ! " 
 
 He lifted his hat airily, and wheeled his machine 
 into the road. Mrs. Drysdale heard the whirr of the 
 wheels as she stood cutting flowers in the garden to 
 refill her vases. She strolled back to the house again 
 with her hands full of oleanders, walked in at a long 
 open window, and arranged her dinner in her own
 
 8 The Story of Eden 
 
 mind while she arranged her flowers. By the time the 
 cart came back from the station she was waiting on the 
 stoep, and took the reins from Leaf to drive herself 
 into the village. 
 
 " It is really going to be hot ! " she said to herself, 
 as she was trotted out of her own gate and along the 
 shady red road between the fir-trees. " I wish we had 
 a Cape cart instead of this open trap, only that means 
 a pair. Steady, Bob ! I shall have to let Leaf drive 
 you, and put up a sunshade, I believe." The pony 
 was pulling, and the sun was increasing in power ; by 
 the time Mrs. Drysdale had visited the baker, the 
 butcher, and the post-office, had bowed to seven 
 acquaintances, and stopped to chat to three, she was 
 glad to resign the driving seat and shield herself from 
 the glare. 
 
 " I want to drive round by Vine Lodge, Leaf," she 
 said absently. She was thinking, as the Kaffir servant 
 turned in the direction indicated, that after all Miss 
 Cunningham was only the Professor's half-sister, so she 
 might be possible after all. It was so irksome to take 
 up a girl who was a mere drag-weight socially, and 
 Anthony Cunningham was frankly detested as the most 
 disagreeable man in the neighbourhood. Even his house 
 had a repellent aspect to Mrs. Drysdale's eyes as they 
 turned in at the gate and pulled up before the stoep. 
 
 Her first ring at the bell was unanswered. " I 
 thought so ! " said Mrs. Drysdale to herself. " The 
 servants don't do their work properly perhaps there 
 are none ! I never have known how the Professor lived. 
 The door shut too, and most of the windows ! How 
 nasty and stuffy the house must be ! Ah, at last ! " 
 
 The door opened slowly to disclose a coloured girl 
 in a dirty print dress, with no cap on her tangled head, 
 and with shoes down at the heel. Mrs. Drysdale's quiet 
 comprehensive glance had the effect however of dis- 
 persing the broad grin on her fatuous face.
 
 The Story of Eden 9 
 
 " Is Miss Cunningham at home ? " 
 
 " I dunno, Missus ! " 
 
 " Then you had better go and see. I will wait here." 
 
 " I 've only bin hyar since yesterday ! " the girl 
 volunteered, with a new but fainter grin, and disap- 
 peared into the dusk of the hall behind. Mrs. Drysdale 
 chafed. " Dirty, slovenly creature ! I should like to 
 have her under me for a week only I should n't keep 
 her ! When I see that kind of Kaffir girl I almost agree 
 with Beau Livingston's barbarous assertion that the land 
 has never been decently governed since the abolition 
 of slavery. Oh, here you are again, are you ? Well, 
 is Miss Cunningham in? " 
 
 " Yaas, Missus. Will you come in hyar ? " 
 
 She shambled along the hall and opened a door into 
 a large room seemingly the drawing-room, if there 
 had been one. Mrs. Drysdale walked in and looked 
 round her. Some one had evidently made a half-hearted 
 attempt to put it in order, and then abandoned it in 
 despair. One window was open, and a long ray of 
 sunshine struggled in through the partly lowered blinds, 
 displaying the forlorn appearance of ugly, faded furni- 
 ture, heavy curtains looking terribly out of place in the 
 African summer, a moth-eaten skin or so spread on the 
 carpet, a dilapidated fern-stand with a few plants in 
 it, and 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale turned as the door opened, glad to 
 abandon her dreary inspection. If the room had filled 
 her with pitying dismay however, the girl who advanced 
 to meet her made it worse. She was evidently ashamed 
 of herself to begin with, for she had been crying so that 
 her face was streaked with tear-stains, her fair, fluffy 
 hair was untidy, and her clothing looked hot and un- 
 comfortable beside Mrs. Drysdale's fresh washing 
 dress. The Professor's sister was quite a young girl 
 probably about nineteen or twenty; her figure was 
 slight, and she was rather small altogether. Whether
 
 io The Story of Eden 
 
 or no she was pretty, or could be pretty, Mrs. Drysdale 
 felt it unfair to judge under the present circumstances. 
 
 "I am so ashamed of myself, Miss Cunningham," 
 she said, rushing into speech to avoid the awkward- 
 ness of the situation. " I meant to have come to see 
 you days ago, and ask if I could do anything for you. 
 Your brother told me you were coming out, and I dare- 
 say you find it terribly strange at first, knowing nothing 
 of the country. A bachelor's household is always rather 
 a trial, too, isn't it?" 
 
 " Thank you," said the girl, simply. She had a pretty 
 voice, and a very English reserve in her manner. " I 
 should be very grateful if you would give me some 
 advice ! I am not used to housekeeping, and I am 
 rather lost out here. It seems so difficult to get any- 
 thing I want ! " 
 
 " It ought n't to be. We think ourselves rather well 
 supplied in Wynberg. You see we get the things sent 
 out from Cape Town. Of course you must order in 
 advance, if you want anything special." 
 
 " That is just it. You see, Anthony does n't like 
 ordinary things. He used to dine at the Vineyard 
 until I came, and he doesn't think I manage well, 
 and he grumbles at everything the servants cook, and 
 and " To Mrs. Drysdale's horror the tears began 
 to roll down her face again. 
 
 " Poor little soul ! " she thought remorsefully. " She 's 
 had a week's bullying from a bad-tempered man, miles 
 away from everything and everybody that she knows, 
 and is very miserable. No wonder she cries ! I howled 
 at first, and I had Ossy to help me and smooth things 
 over. I wish I had come and seen her before ! We 
 are selfish brutes to have left a 'tenderfoot' alone 
 like this!" 
 
 She took hold of little Miss Cunningham, for she was 
 a tall woman herself, and literally put her into a chair 
 and sat down beside her. " Look here," she said. " It
 
 The Story of Eden n 
 
 is n't so bad as that. Don't cry, but tell me all about 
 it. I know what men are when they are not fed prop- 
 erly. It 's the servants, I suppose. Have you got a 
 cook?" 
 
 " I 've got a coloured woman, but she can't cook 
 well, and I don't know how to teach her. Perhaps it 
 is because I am not used to black people." 
 
 " Ah, that 's the great trouble out here ! The ser- 
 vants are a trial. But you must go on bullying them 
 it 's no use telling a Kaffir a thing once and then think- 
 ing that he will do it. You must see that he does it, 
 and tell him again every day. Has any one been to see 
 you yet? " 
 
 " No one but you. I think it is so kind of you to 
 come ! " 
 
 " I think it is very unkind of us all to have left you 
 alone for so long ! We are really like a big family 
 round about here. You can hardly believe it, I sup- 
 pose, but I think Wynberg a delightful place to live 
 in ! It is so gay almost too gay, I think. We 
 are so lighthearted that we are rather irresponsible. 
 There must be something in the sunshine that makes 
 us so." 
 
 " I can't fancy any enjoyment in the neighbourhood 
 of Kaffir servants, and tradesmen from whom one has 
 to order a week ahead ! " said the girl, with a faint 
 laugh. " Particularly if you have to keep house for a 
 Professor of Entomology ! You don't know how tired 
 I am of being miserable it makes me feel positively 
 wicked ! " 
 
 " Unhappiness is n't good for anybody, or moping 
 either. You want to get out and forget your trials for 
 a time. You'll come back fresher for the struggle. 
 What are you going to do this afternoon ? " 
 
 " I was going to have another try to put this room 
 straight." 
 
 " Leave it for to-day. I '11 come round to-morrow
 
 12 The Story of Eden 
 
 morning and help you. I 'm going to a tennis after- 
 noon at a house near by, and I '11 take you with me 
 and introduce you to the neighbourhood. The hosts 
 are awfully kind-hearted people very rich Johannes- 
 burghers who have settled here. Do come ! You can 
 bathe your eyes and put on a white frock, and you '11 
 forget all your troubles for a while ! " 
 
 The girl's young eyes unconsciously brightened. " I 
 should like it very much," she said with a faint hesita- 
 tion. " Will you call for me? " 
 
 " Yes, about four. Now I must be going Leaf 
 will think I have got out the back way and walked 
 home ! " 
 
 " I will come and let you out. Is that your cart ? 
 What a pretty pony ! I do wish we had something to 
 drive ! " 
 
 " Haven't you?" said Mrs. Drysdale, in some sur- 
 prise. " I am sure I have seen your brother driving ! 
 I always think he turns out particularly smartly for a 
 scientific man." 
 
 " He has a horse and trap that he always hires, I 
 believe, and that the proprietor reserves for him. But 
 I don't know anything about that." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mrs. Drysdale, inclusively. " You will 
 have to have something to drive sooner or later 
 though. Every one does about here even if it is 
 only a donkey cart ! You see it is really too hot to 
 walk much in the summer, and the neighbourhood is 
 so spread that you must drive if you mean to visit. 
 Do you ride?" 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! I have never had a chance to learn. 
 I have only just learned to cycle." The girl laughed 
 a little, as if her amusement outweighed her chagrin 
 at her own confessions. As she stood on the stoep 
 her hair took a sunnier glint and her round young face 
 defied even the tear-stains to be wholly defacing. 
 
 " Good-bye," said Mrs. Drysdale. " I will call for
 
 The Story of Eden 13 
 
 you at four. Mind you are ready ! " " She 's very 
 English, and very young, but she is a nice little girl," 
 she added to herself as she drove home. " I think she 
 will brighten up but she has had a terrible time ! I 
 wonder I wonder what Wynberg will make of her 1 
 She has come out too young to retain her personality 
 and make something of Wynberg. Women influence 
 the Colony, but the Colony influences girls." 
 
 Margery Cunningham stepped down from the stoep 
 as the cart rolled away, and walked down the garden. 
 She sniffed at the sunshine, drew in long breaths of 
 the pure dry air, and looked at the dazzling distance 
 of sap-green vegetation and dark firs and blue moun- 
 tains. It was very fresh and green and luxuriant, and 
 it raised in her the eager desire to be happy which is 
 never very dormant in human nature particularly 
 when one has only had twenty years in which to see 
 that happiness is impossible in the nature of things. 
 
 " What a fool I was to cry ! " she said to herself. 
 " I like that woman. I hope she will be friends with 
 me. I am afraid she must think me a little idiot to 
 sit down and weep because I can't manage the ser- 
 vants and Anthony grumbles. How nice and cool 
 and smart she looked ! I feel so hot and untidy and 
 unsuitable I must look nice this afternoon, if only 
 to show that I am not always like this. I wonder if 
 I 've got anything that will do ? how the sun does 
 shine ! It 's nonsense to make a trouble of things in 
 such weather ! " 
 
 She went into the house again, up to her own bed- 
 room, and opened the window wider. The sun fol- 
 lowed her in, and even the atmosphere of the house 
 could not dispel his influence. She unlocked a big 
 trunk, which she had not had the heart to do before, 
 and diving in among certain fripperies, found some 
 cooler clothes that were not too crushed with packing. 
 Mrs. Drysdale had already given her the idea that
 
 14 The Story of Eden 
 
 white was appropriate to the sunshine and the green 
 world round about her. She decided on all the details 
 of her costume, and hunted them out, leaving her 
 pretty task in a reluctant hurry to see that luncheon 
 was properly laid. 
 
 The luncheon was most improperly laid, as she soon 
 discovered ; when she entered the dining-room she 
 was greeted with a mingled flavour of damp mustiness, 
 which pervaded it from being long shut up, and the 
 smell of burnt food. It was evident that the Kaffir 
 cook had not been successful to-day, and her heart 
 sank as her eyes fell on her half-brother sitting in the 
 arm-chair. He was waiting for his luncheon, that 
 was one bad mark against her name, she knew, and 
 the luncheon was making itself manifest beforehand. 
 The youth and pleasure went out of her face, as she 
 quietly took her seat at the head of the table and 
 awaited the storm. 
 
 The Professor was a tall man with a narrow chest. 
 His skin was pale and unhealthy from confinement and 
 the effect of a hot climate upon his liver, but he was 
 not by any means to be considered plain. His ginger- 
 coloured hair was worn away, and left the top of his 
 high arched head quite bald ; but a large ragged mous- 
 tache ornamented his upper lip and hid a loose-lipped, 
 ill-tempered mouth, and his prominent brown eyes 
 were large and full. When he glared as he was 
 doing at the present moment they were very large 
 and full indeed. He rose as his sister came into the 
 room, and turned round upon her like a snarling dog. 
 
 " Is this what you call luncheon, Madge ? It is half 
 an hour late to begin with ! You know I have told 
 you that I expect my meals punctually. It gives 
 me indigestion to wait." 
 
 " I am very sorry, Anthony. I don't think it is more 
 than five minutes late ! That clock is wrong." 
 
 " Why don't you put it right then ? D' you expect
 
 The Story of Eden 15 
 
 me to see to everything in the house your duties as 
 well as my own? The place is kept disgracefully. 
 Look at the table ! It is like a second-rate lodging 
 house ! " 
 
 " Mary does not understand how to lay a table prop- 
 erly yet. She is getting better, but if I always do it 
 for her she will never learn. I will come and look it 
 over another time before you come in." 
 
 " You had better alter it in some way, I think ! I 
 had you out to look after the house, and I am more 
 uncomfortable than before you came. Why don't you 
 make the servants do their work? Why don't you 
 send them about their business if they don't? Am I 
 to keep servants to do nothing? I have all the paying 
 and none of the comfort, it seems to me, and it is 
 my money, remember " 
 
 " Don't you think that we had better continue this 
 edifying discussion at another time?" said Madge, 
 changing from red to white. She could see the half- 
 vacant, half-terrified grin on the face of the Kaffir girl 
 Mary, who was bringing in the dishes, and, though it 
 was by no means new to her now, the humiliation 
 seemed almost too much to bear to-day. 
 
 " No ! " said the Professor, rudely. " I shall speak 
 as I please, and when I think necessary ! You seem 
 to think that the house is yours, and you are going to 
 manage things as you please. It 's damned bad man- 
 agement too ! What 's this ? The meat is burnt ! 
 Take it away I can't eat that ! Upon my word, 
 Madge, I shall dine at the Vineyard, or I shall be 
 starved ! " 
 
 A long acquaintance with, and a habit of dealing 
 with Kaffirs had given the Professor a boisterous rough- 
 ness of manner when he wished to enforce his opinions 
 or lost his irritable temper, which he found very 
 efficient in dealing with black females. It had the 
 effect upon the white female opposite him of making
 
 1 6 The Story of Eden 
 
 her tremble with rage and nervous terror. She clutched 
 the edge of the table with her hands, and restrained a 
 hysterical desire to shriek as she steadied her voice to 
 answer him. 
 
 " Very well, Anthony, if you think you would be 
 more comfortable, I quite agree that it would be better 
 for you to have your meals at the hotel. I will get 
 things into working order as soon as I can. I am 
 sorry I am not a satisfactory housekeeper, but after all 
 you do not pay me a regular salary, so you have only 
 my keep to weigh against my incompetence ! " 
 
 The Professor sat back in his chair silenced, and 
 scowling under his brows. He was a little ashamed, 
 and a little conscious of having gone too far. An 
 opposition outburst was an excellent thing for him, but 
 it was extremely wearing to the nerves of an adversary 
 who loved peace and was unaccustomed to screaming 
 in an equal degree to his own. Madge had bought a 
 respite from war at the expense of her own luncheon, 
 which she could not eat, not on account of its being 
 badly cooked, but because her nerves were thoroughly 
 jarred. She kept a strained silence while the Professor 
 eat milk pudding, bread and cheese, and grapes, con- 
 tinuing his nagging fire of objections between the 
 courses. Not until he had thrown down his napkin, 
 and risen with a muttered oath as grace, did she gather 
 breath and speak. 
 
 " Will you dine at the hotel to-night, Anthony ? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly, if you can give me nothing better 
 than this ! " 
 
 " I cannot answer for the servants at present. I think 
 it would be better if you did not have your meals at 
 home. I am tired of being abused." 
 
 He began grumbling that he did not want to abuse 
 any one, but the food was disgracefully prepared, and 
 the house a filthy sty, unfit 
 
 " Yes, I know all that," his sister said hastily,
 
 The Story of Eden 17 
 
 shrinking from the thick Colonial accent which 
 his voice seemed to have caught, and which always 
 made itself manifest in his tempers. " I am going 
 out this afternoon with Mrs. Drysdale. She very 
 kindly offered to take me to a tennis afternoon at 
 Mrs. Dodd's." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! I hope you will look presentable then, 
 that 's all. Mrs. Drysdale is a very smart woman, and 
 she knows when people are all right. She won't like 
 taking a dowdy girl about with her." 
 
 He spoke coarsely, and had the pleasure of seeing 
 his victim wince. Anthony Cunningham had a system 
 of his own in dealing with a weaker vessel. He sawed 
 his horse's mouth and flogged his dogs until he broke 
 their spirits ; he screamed oaths at his coloured ser- 
 vants, and harried his dependents of all classes. The 
 real terror in Margery's mind was that he would strike 
 her, and then she did not know what she would do. 
 The blind fury he would have raised could not have 
 found expression either in the deadly revenge of a 
 woman of experience, or even the momentary lashes of 
 her tongue. Madge knew herself too young to manage 
 a man with a temper as ungoverned as her brother's, 
 and in all her twenty years she had been treated with a 
 certain consideration and kindliness, even while she 
 earned her own bread. She had lived for a week with 
 a perpetual dread of her brother's violence, and a con- 
 stant guarding against raising it to extremes. Her 
 hands were clenched and her movements unsteady as 
 she left the dining-room and went back to her inspec- 
 tion of her clothes. 
 
 " I could n't help it ! " she said to herself. " I was 
 getting worse and worse every minute. I wanted to 
 kill him, I was so angry. He drives me. There is 
 nothing I would not do." The short, hard sentences 
 flew through her mind like blows. " I must get out of 
 it for a time, as Mrs. Drysdale said. I can bear it 
 a
 
 1 8 The Story of Eden 
 
 better then. Oh, why do people make you angry and 
 wicked for nothing? " 
 
 She looked out of the window at the warm, sunny 
 land, basking in the joyous afternoon. " How silly ! " 
 she said. " As if it really mattered but it did, 
 down there in the dining-room and the shadow. I 
 want to get out of the house. I '11 dress now and wait 
 in my things." 
 
 When Mrs. Drysdale's speckless cart and pony bowled 
 up to the door, Madge was waiting on the stoep, her 
 white figure hovering restlessly between the trellised 
 roses. She flew into the cart like a bird, and fluttered 
 herself down on the seat beside the driver. 
 
 " How pretty ! " thought Mrs. Drysdale. " And how 
 fresh ! She will be a success. I am glad I found her 
 she is my discovery. What has she on ? A white 
 frock, and a shady hat, but it is n't that. She knows 
 how to put them on. She wants to enjoy herself, and 
 she will. She is enjoying herself now, just because she 
 is young and pretty." 
 
 " Did n't some one say that the Garden of Eden was 
 in Africa? " said Madge, dreamily, looking at the blue 
 mountains scintillating with the heat at the end of the 
 aisle-like vista of firs. 
 
 " Well, if it were, it was certainly round about here. 
 The Eastern Province is ugly, and inland is the Karroo 
 and the veld." 
 
 " And the ' Mushroom Cities ' that one hears every 
 one talk about so much ! " said Madge, laughing. 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Drysdale, with some dryness. 
 "People at home are very fond of comparing us to 
 mushrooms, they think it witty. They insist that the 
 social life is the same, here to-day, gone to-morrow." 
 
 "And it is not the fact?" 
 
 " Wait and see. We last a few years anyhow, 
 even the Regiments. The Duke's have been here 
 twelve months already. True is quite an old institution."
 
 The Story of Eden 19 
 
 "Who is True?" 
 
 " He is a little man in the Duke's whom every one 
 loves. I '11 introduce him to you. He will tell you that 
 he does n't count, nor does he except in the best 
 sense. He does unheard-of things, and we all say that 
 it does n't matter because it is True. The Duke's are 
 not all so popular. But you will see him and judge for 
 yourself. This is Friedenhof ! " 
 
 The pony turned his clever head in at the gate and 
 pricked his small ears. " All right, Bob, no dogs ! " 
 said his driver, and he took his way daintily up the drive. 
 " He is afraid of dogs," she explained to Madge. " We 
 think he must have been hunted at some time. Most 
 Basuto ponies have some vice. Bob bolts from a big 
 dog." 
 
 Madge jumped down as gaily as she had got into the 
 cart, and followed her chaperon up the broad steps onto 
 the stoep. Friedenhof had been built in the days of 
 Dutch landowners ; its walls were three feet thick, and 
 its great beamed entrance hall a dwelling room in itself. 
 The front doors were wide open, and people were pass- 
 ing in and out ; two or three girls in light frocks and 
 men in flannels stood talking to each other on the stoep, 
 under the climbing green creepers. They paused and 
 looked at Madge with some curiosity, and she saw 
 rather than heard them say, " Who has Mrs. Drysdale 
 got with her?" "Nobody I know. Is she a visi- 
 tor? " "A new face is always interesting." 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale, followed by Madge, walked straight 
 into a room on the left and up to the tea-table, where 
 a stout woman was laughing and talking to two young 
 men who were trying to drink their tea with rackets in 
 one hand and the cup in the other. There were a good 
 many people present, and a universal chattering. 
 
 " Ah ! it 's all very well, Mr. Forrester ! " she said, as 
 Mrs. Drysdale entered. " But I know you are not so 
 wedded to tea that you would n't rather have a whisky J
 
 2O The Story of Eden 
 
 Wait until my husband gets you in here alone, when our 
 backs are turned ! " 
 
 " On my honour, Mrs. Johnnie, I 'd rather have tea 
 if I 'm to play again. And some of Miss Dodd's 
 cake ! " 
 
 " Do you hear that, Starling ? Here 's Mr. Forrester 
 paying you compliments through the oven, as it were ! 
 Your cookery is appreciated here at all events ! " She 
 turned to attract the attention of a girl who was pouring 
 out the tea, and saw Mrs. Drysdale. " My dear, how 
 late you are ! " she said. " I Ve been expecting you 
 this half hour." 
 
 " I went round to fetch Miss Cunningham," said Mrs. 
 Drysdale, drawing Madge forward. " You did n't know 
 that Professor Cunningham's sister had come out, did 
 you, Mrs. Johnnie? We were all in the dark, and I 
 found her quite dull with seeing nobody, and beginning 
 to think that Africa was indeed a desert ; so I brought 
 her with me by force to have that idea dispelled. We 
 can't let her write home and tell them that the Colony 
 is a dreadful exile, can we?" 
 
 " No, indeed ! We must break you of that impres- 
 sion, my dear ! " The stout lady took Madge's hand 
 in both hers and shook it heartily. " So you Ve only 
 just come out ! Were n't you sorry to leave all the gay 
 doings of the Diamond Jubilee behind you ? Not but 
 what we keep it up pretty well here ! There is plenty 
 to do roundabouts, and I always think the young people 
 have a good time of it. Starling ! This is Miss Cun- 
 ningham my daughter ! " 
 
 " How pretty and soft she is ! " Madge thought to 
 herself, as Miss Dodd turned from the tea-tray and pro- 
 ceeded to make friends. " She is about my age, but 
 she is n't nearly so shy as I feel. I like her dark hair 
 and eyes, and the little lisp in her voice. I wonder why 
 they call her Starling?" 
 
 "Do you play tennis?" Starling said. It was an 
 inevitable question. Madge answered, "A little."
 
 The Story of Eden 21 
 
 " We will make up a set as soon as you have had 
 your tea. Mr. Livingston, will you give Miss Cunning- 
 ham some cake ? Mr. Livingston Miss Cunningham. 
 I will find you a good partner, Miss Cunningham, as 
 you say you are out of practice, and he can take all the 
 hard work. I wonder where True is? I am afraid he 
 has just been playing." 
 
 Madge looked up as a long sensitive hand offered her 
 the cake, and smiled. " Not quite such a large piece, 
 please ! " she said. 
 
 " Nonsense ! I am quite sure you would eat all that, 
 and then break all the sugar off the top and pick out 
 the plums if there were no one here to see ! " 
 
 " I daresay I should. Would n't you? " 
 
 " I will now, if you will come into a corner with me 
 and share the plunder. Look there, we will take 
 those two seats by the sideboard, behind Johnnie Dodd. 
 His back makes a most effective screen ! Do you know 
 Johnnie Dodd?" 
 
 " I don't know any one," said Madge, looking up at 
 the fat black back behind which Mr. Livingston had 
 settled her. " Is he our host ? " 
 
 " I am not quite certain. Sometimes I think he is, 
 and sometimes I think he is only a host in himself. 
 He is one of the nicest men hereabouts, but then, 
 we are all rather nice." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Livingston ! What are you doing ! You 
 have really cut off all the sugar top ! " 
 
 " Of course I have. There ! That is half for you 
 and half for me. Now if any one discovers us, I shall 
 say it is all your fault ! Ah, I hoped you would 
 laugh ! " 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because your laugh is particularly pretty. Here 
 is Starling coming to rout us out, and I am not at all 
 pleased. My dear girl, when will you learn not to 
 interrupt when not wanted?"
 
 22 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Don't take any notice of him, Miss Cunningham. 
 Nobody here does. We have all got so used to him 
 that I am afraid he says many things unrebuked that 
 we ought to suppress. Will you play with me, Mr. 
 Livingston? I can't find True, but I think he is on 
 the court. We will go and see." 
 
 " No, I am going to play with Miss Cunningham. 
 Have you got your shoes on, Miss Cunningham ? 
 Yes ? I wonder where you get your shoes ! " 
 
 " I brought these from home with me." 
 
 " Don't wear them out. You won't find it easy to 
 replace them." 
 
 " I thought you had such good shops in Cape 
 Town ! " 
 
 " Ah, but they don't keep small sizes enough. (I 
 hope she won't lose her faculty of blushing, very soon. 
 That was as delicious as a winter sunset.) Who is 
 going to play with you against us, Starling? " he added 
 aloud. 
 
 "True, if I can get him. I shall see. Miss Cun- 
 ningham has not yet said that she will play with you, 
 however." 
 
 " That is jealousy ! " said Beau, airily. " Notice 
 the malicious way in which she tries to part us, Miss 
 Cunningham ! Last week I was her slave, she can- 
 not bear being dethroned ! " 
 
 Madge felt rather as if her head were whirling. The 
 light chatter all round her in the tea-room, which had 
 seemed to her crowded, the way that this man with the 
 pointed white beard and the young eyes rattled on, 
 Starling's careless verbal retorts flung over her shoul- 
 der as she led the way, all coming together after her 
 week's depression, and seeing no one but her brother, 
 made her a little bewildered. They were approaching 
 the tennis ground through the plumbago walk, and she 
 glanced up longingly at the clusters of exquisite flowers 
 hanging over her head.
 
 The Story of Eden 23 
 
 "Do you want some ?" Livingston asked, stopping 
 to pull a spray carelessly down. 
 
 " If I might have a piece to wear. Oh, that 's 
 enough, don't pull any more ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! I am always saying nonsense to you. 
 Johnnie Dodd would be delighted to give you the 
 whole hedge. Let me put it into your waistband for 
 you." 
 
 His delicate, characteristic fingers tucked the flow- 
 ers into her belt, with a familiarity which made Madge 
 take a reassuring glance at his white hair to excuse 
 herself. Starling had gone on in front ; Madge fol- 
 lowed her with a quickened step, and then asked 
 herself why with some annoyance. 
 
 " I can't get used to the gravel courts," she said, 
 hastily, as they emerged opposite the netted square 
 among the fir-trees. 
 
 "They are all gravel here. It makes the game 
 much quicker. I have come to prefer these shady 
 netted courts to the open field in which people always 
 play in England, with the sun blinding you on one side, 
 and the balls going into the next county on the other." 
 
 " I can't find True ; he has gone to the house for 
 tea, I suppose. I will get some one else. Will you 
 take your places?" Starling said. 
 
 Madge was becoming curious over the ever-recurring 
 True, and was sorry he was not her adversary. She 
 had not much time to discover who that was, or what 
 he was like, before the game began, and then all the 
 attention she could spare from her balls was given to 
 her partner. Considering his age, Beaumont Living- 
 ston was a wonderful player. Madge was nervous and 
 out of practice, but her admiration for the cool man- 
 ner in which he covered her mistakes made her do her 
 best, and they only lost the set by one game. 
 
 " I congratulate ourselves," he said. " If our oppo- 
 nents had not played in such exceedingly bad form
 
 24 The Story of Eden 
 
 Starling, listen to what I am saying ! we should 
 have won. They placed all their balls, and screwed 
 their service. It is better to have lost the set by one 
 than to have gained it in such a dastardly fashion." 
 
 " I will throw all the balls at you if you say another 
 word," said Starling, coming up to the other side of 
 the net. " We won by sheer good play, did n't we ? " 
 she added to her partner over her shoulder. Starling 
 had a way of turning her head like a bird, and tossing 
 her soft-voiced words to people at a distance, who 
 generally caught them deftly, as something precious. 
 
 " Good play is never sheer," said Livingston, adroitly. 
 " Look at that woman who has just arrived, Miss Cun- 
 ningham ! Does n't she remind you of a vinegar bottle 
 with the cork left out ? She is very good. Very good 
 people always make me long to label them and put 
 them on a shelf in rows until wanted." 
 
 " Only no one ever would want them," said Starling. 
 " The dust of ages would accumulate on Mrs. Naseby 
 before I took her down again. She is talking scandal 
 to Polly Harbord. I know by the way her under lip 
 shoots in and out." 
 
 Madge laughed outright, and then, remembering 
 Mr. Livingston's eulogium, blushed, to his greater 
 pleasure. She looked away from him, conscious of 
 his enjoyment, and her eyes encountered those of her 
 late adversary and Starling's partner. At the first 
 glance she thought him the handsomest man she had 
 ever seen, but then her experience was limited to a 
 small country town in England, and the voyage out, 
 during which she had been too ill to get to know one 
 third of the passengers. 
 
 " I wonder who he is? " she thought, while her eyes 
 still met his. Something passed between them, she 
 did not know what, some recognition of a mutual 
 attraction that seemed even in that first minute to 
 have been of long duration. And it was just then that
 
 The Story of Eden 25 
 
 Starling said : " Well, you have been a long while ! I 
 hope you made a good tea," very sarcastically, and 
 added, " Captain Truman, Miss Cunningham," which 
 distracted Madge's attention. 
 
 " I have heard of you so often," she collected herself 
 to say, as she shook hands. 
 
 " Why ? " asked the newcomer, gently. He still 
 held her ringers in his and smiled at her out of a most 
 expressive pair of eyes. He was totally unlike what 
 Madge had expected, being short and broad-shoul- 
 dered, while she had thought he would be dapper and 
 weedy. His features were good, and his face much 
 sunburnt, but his eyes were undoubtedly his attraction. 
 They could, and did, say anything, and his quick soft 
 voice only echoed their sentiments. 
 
 " Your friends are always speaking of you," said 
 Madge. 
 
 " I hope they were kind." 
 
 " I don't think they were unkind. But they gave 
 me an erroneous impression, all the same." 
 
 " I will give you a chance to correct it as much as 
 you like. Will you play the next set with me? " 
 
 " Ah, you come too late ! I have just played with 
 Mr. Livingston." 
 
 " Later on then. We can go and sit down together 
 and watch this game. Then you will begin to find out 
 what I am really like." 
 
 " I am finding out now. Are you aware that you are 
 still holding my hand ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I was just thinking how nice it was of you to 
 leave it there. It was quite comfortable, was n't it ? " 
 
 " Well, really ! " Madge said rather breathlessly. 
 
 " It does n't matter what I do, you know. I don't 
 count." 
 
 "So I hear. I am rather glad. It must be so 
 nice." 
 
 He nodded. " It is nice. Will you come and sit
 
 i6 The Story of Eden 
 
 down with me now? I am sure you are tired after 
 playing. Or would you like some more tea? " 
 
 " No, I would rather sit down." 
 
 " Miss Cunningham and I are going to find out what 
 each other are like," Truman explained to Starling. 
 u She says you gave her a wrong impression of me." 
 He set straight a tumbled piece of lace on her gown 
 as he spoke, with a little familiar movement that made 
 Madge laugh. 
 
 " I see you do not count," she said. 
 
 " No, he really does n't," Starling agreed. " Find 
 Miss Cunningham a seat then, True. I have got to 
 arrange the next set." 
 
 " Have you been out here long? " True asked as he 
 led the way to a rustic bench. "Wait a minute, 
 let me alter the cushions for you." 
 
 " About a week. Thank you ! What a nice nurse 
 you would make ! " 
 
 " Yes. I think of taking it up in my leisure moments. 
 Do you want one? " 
 
 " For myself? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " I don't know. I think I would rather try you 
 first, in your leisure moments ! " 
 
 "Very well. I won't forget. You haven't told me 
 how you like Africa." 
 
 " Very much, just now," said Margery, thinking of 
 her household trials and not of the implied compli- 
 ment to him. " I have had a lot of bother with the 
 servants, but I hope I shall get straight soon. The 
 house is in such a hopeless muddle." 
 
 "Where do you live? Vine Lodge? I am just 
 near, at the Camp. May I come in and help you 
 sometimes. I know how to put up curtains." 
 
 " Do you ? I should be only too thankful ! Mrs. 
 Drysdale is coming to-morrow morning." 
 
 " I can't come to-morrow morning we are going
 
 The Story of Eden 27 
 
 route marching. But I '11 turn up in the afternoon, if 
 I may." 
 
 "Will you really? I should be very pleased. Do 
 you do you know my brother?" 
 
 " Yes." He smiled into her eyes reassuringly. " He 
 does n't mind me. Nobody does. I '11 come to-mor- 
 row then." 
 
 Margery remembered this promise when she was 
 leaving in the train of Mrs. Drysdale, and she turned 
 to Starling half apologetically. " Captain Truman says 
 he will come and help me put up curtains," she said. 
 
 " Oh, will he?" said Starling, easily. A group of 
 people who were leaving were standing all round them 
 laughing and talking. Starling turned with a smile 
 from Beau Livingston, and the smile deepened as she 
 looked at Margery. "That is all right," she said. 
 " Captain Truman is a splendid carpenter. You will 
 find him really useful we all give him jobs to do." 
 
 The momentary doubt in Margery's eyes was dis- 
 pelled, and she heaved a sigh of relief. At home she 
 had not been used to an acquaintance of half an houi 
 offering to put up her window curtains, particularly if 
 he were a captain in the army. But here it seemed 
 the usual thing. She looked at True's face, and 
 thought his friendly offer of his services a pleasant 
 change from conventionality. And he, chancing to 
 look at her at the moment, continued a wordless flirta- 
 tion for a few minutes by his own private code of 
 glances. Margery would have found his gaze embar- 
 rassing if she had been in a mood to think of anything 
 seriously. But the sunlight poured down its generous 
 gold upon the open drive where they were all stand- 
 ing ; it lay in warm patches on Starling's brown head, 
 and her own white gown ; and it warmed the wide 
 steps and the doors of Friedenhof above them, and 
 Johnnie Dodd, who, like the household deity, stood 
 beaming a farewell blessing upon his guests ; its influ-
 
 28 The Story of Eden 
 
 ence derided a serious thought. The careless lightness 
 of the talk and laughter round her seemed to float 
 away into the element of the sunshine like thistledown, 
 until the nonsense and the brightness of the moment 
 were the only things of importance, and nothing was 
 serious in the whole world. 
 
 " I wonder," said Madge to herself, " if it is always 
 so light? I seem to have drifted into the air and lost 
 my feet. I am like a creature sunning itself, and only 
 conscious of the present warmth. But how lovely to 
 be young, and to live in the sunshine 1 "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 " Oh, the days were so sunny, the skies were so blue, and the apples 
 so readily fell to the hand 
 
 Of the beautiful women who once were so pure, as they -wandered 
 like Eve in Bohemia's land I 
 
 There was something so tender and true in the voicg of the Ser- 
 pent who glided and bask'd under leaves 
 
 Concealing the fruit that a minute destroys, and a lifetime of 
 misery never retrieves I 
 
 There were kisses in plenty, and jewels galore, and deep-scented 
 flowers to twine in the hair 
 
 Of the woman who drank up her joy at a draught, and galloped 
 on Pleasure through Vanity Fair" 
 
 " MAY I come in? " said a voice. 
 
 Madge dropped the work from her hands, and went 
 to welcome her visitor, who was standing on the stoep. 
 
 " Yes, do ! " she said. "Lean the bicycle up against 
 the steps, Miss Harbord. Now sit down in that easy- 
 chair and talk." 
 
 Polly Harbord did as suggested, and sat down, look- 
 ing round her with bright interested eyes. To do her 
 justice she was always interested in her surroundings, 
 a lovable quality that had something to do with her 
 popularity. Margery Cunningham had made the ac- 
 quaintance of many girls in the past three weeks, but 
 of them all she inclined mostly to Starling Dodd and the 
 girl now before her. Polly was always ready to laugh, 
 and for that matter to gossip, but she had such a way of 
 combining the two that it was difficult to take her tales 
 of the neighbourhood seriously. She looked, in her 
 smart cycling dress, the impersonation of youth and 
 enjoyment and good temper. The sunshine was danc- 
 ing in her eyes, and the carelessness of Wynberg on 
 her lips. Yet she held the position of companion to a
 
 30 The Story of Eden 
 
 hypochondriac elderly lady who spoiled her enjoy- 
 ments as often as not, and would have embittered the 
 lives of nine girls out of ten. Some of the African 
 sunshine must certainly have been absorbed into Polly 
 Harbord's very being. 
 
 " What an improvement it is, having this room to sit 
 in ! " she said. 
 
 " I had a hard fight to get leave. Anthony never 
 used it, but that was no reason to his mind that I 
 should. I like sitting here much better than in the 
 dining-room, that is so depressing. Oh, if you could 
 have seen the house the first day that Mrs. Drysdale 
 found me crying in the dust and dirt ! It looked 
 hopeless to me then, and even now I can hardly under- 
 stand how I have got it as straight as it is." 
 
 " You have altered things wonderfully yourself 
 included, if you don't mind my saying so." 
 
 " Not a bit ! " said Madge, frankly. " I don't won- 
 der you think so. I shall never forget my first intro- 
 duction to you all I had been so miserable, and you 
 all seemed so happy ! I have caught the contagion a 
 little myself now, I think." 
 
 " I wonder what you thought of us ? I often wonder 
 how we strike a 'tender-foot.' " 
 
 " You ought to say an Oitlander, it 's the same thing, 
 is n't it? Let me think ! I have got to know you all 
 so well since, that I can't remember. My head was 
 full of Mr. Livingston and True when I got home, and 
 I thought a good deal about Starling. I hardly spoke 
 to any one else." 
 
 " Is n't True a good sort ! I suppose he is a flirt, 
 but not a dangerous one like Beau for instance." 
 
 " True is a darling ! But I don't think there is any 
 harm in Mr. Livingston, is there ? He has been aw- 
 fully kind to me from the first." 
 
 "You haven't known him very long, have you," said 
 Polly, dryly. " But I don't say there is any harm in
 
 The Story of Eden 31 
 
 him, exactly " She looked at Madge's face, and 
 the explanation did not come. Some day people 
 would be less reticent. " Let her find out for her- 
 self," Polly thought shrewdly. 
 
 "How is Mrs. Wrighton this morning?" asked 
 Madge, as she went on stitching at the covers which 
 she was making for the cushions. 
 
 " Better. She is always better on Mondays, because 
 Dr. Langdon has to go into Cape Town to the Hospi- 
 tal that day, and she knows that she can't send for 
 him. I often think what a nice scandal I could make 
 if I chose ! He goes up to her own room and stays 
 there any amount of time with no one else by I'm 
 supposed to go up too to take his instructions, but I 
 know I 'm not wanted, and I 've learned to hunt out 
 former prescriptions downstairs until five minutes be- 
 fore he leaves." 
 
 Madge put down the cushion hastily, and drew back. 
 " I don't think you ought to say that sort of thing ! " 
 she said, flushing with the effort, and speaking very 
 gently. " It is horrid ! " 
 
 "Well, I dorft say it that is just the point. I 
 could set half Wynberg by the ears with the things I 
 hear and practically know to be true. But what 's the 
 good ? The women are all alike out here, and the men 
 get their diversions in Cape Town." 
 
 " Madge ! " called a querulous voice from some- 
 where in the back regions of the house. " Madge ! 
 why can't you hear me ? I want you ! " 
 
 " Oh, run along, for goodness* sake, or he '11 be in a 
 fever ! " said Polly, with a laugh that was perfectly 
 undisturbed. " Give him my love, and tell him not to 
 be stuffy ! that 's slang for bad temper." 
 
 For once Madge was glad of her brother's summons, 
 though it heralded a reprimand for sins of omission 
 and commission, of which she felt herself guiltles.s. 
 He further garnished the interview, whose real ob-
 
 32 The Story of Eden 
 
 ject was a mislaid article of clothing, for which Madge 
 did not feel herself responsible, by a comment upon 
 the bicycle leaning against the steps of the stoep 
 which he could see from his laboratory windows, and 
 several disagreeable remarks as to the number of visi- 
 tors who came to the house and increased the house- 
 keeping bills. It was his money, and she seemed to 
 think 
 
 Madge threw her chin up. "It is Miss Harbord. 
 But I have not given her anything to eat or drink, so 
 that is sixpence saved," she said. " I rarely do when 
 people drop in like this." 
 
 By the time she got back to the morning-room, 
 Polly had strolled out into the garden and had taken 
 her bicycle preparatory to leaving. " I must be get- 
 ting back," she said, " or Mrs.Wrighton will want me. 
 It is a curious thing that I may sit for hours in the 
 house, and she never requires my presence at all, but if 
 I go out for half an hour, she always rings the bell, and 
 is injured that the servant cannot find me." 
 
 She rode off in the sunshine, and Madge wandered 
 down into the vineyard, instead of returning to the 
 house, and sat down in the rustic arbour to eat grapes. 
 It was brilliantly hot this March day, though the summer 
 was on the wane, and she sunned herself as joyously as 
 a cat. Before her stretched the rows of bobbley round 
 vines weighted to the warm dry earth with golden- 
 green grapes ; they touched the limit of the ground 
 belonging to Vine Lodge, and were shut in by a high 
 hedge of hackia. On the other side of the hedge 
 was a little private road leading up to the Camp ; it 
 was not supposed to be used by ordinary foot-passen- 
 gers, but the gates of Vine Lodge, which would have 
 shut it off from the more public highway, were always 
 open, and whoever chose to go that way might do so. 
 Madge got up from her seat in the arbour after a while, 
 and pushed her way through a gap in the hedge into
 
 The Story of Eden 33 
 
 this lane. On the other side of the lane was another 
 vineyard belonging to a neighbour, and at the bottom of 
 the hill for the vines grew on a slope was a small 
 stream. There were arum lilies growing down by that 
 stream, as Madge had discovered. They grew wild in 
 the swampy ground which they liked, and the Natives 
 called them pig-lilies, and threw them literally as pearls 
 before the swine, who ate their roots. It would be 
 trespassing, but they were of no value, and Madge 
 liked them in vases about the drawing-room ; should 
 she go across the vine-clad hillside and steal the 
 arums? A bugle rang out sweetly across the sunny 
 land, and she hesitated. It was the dishing-up call : 
 
 " Officers' wives get puddings and pies, 
 And soldiers' wives get skilly I " 
 
 surely there would be time before luncheon was on the 
 table, and Anthony came back from his beetles, in a 
 rage, to eat it. 
 
 As she stood there hesitating, she heard the sound 
 of horses' hoofs, and two horsemen riding down the 
 lane caused her to back into her own domains. She 
 stood in the gap in the hedge and watched them. 
 One was a man she knew slightly a certain Captain 
 Barton, "Teddy Barton, of the Gunners," said Wyn- 
 berg. Madge nodded to him, and he lifted his cap 
 and called out a salutation. The other man she did 
 not know and yet she did. As she looked from 
 Barton to his companion, who was riding on the off 
 side, she remembered her first introduction to Wyn- 
 berg society, and the man who had played tennis with 
 Starling against her and Livingston. She had not been 
 introduced to him that day, though while they had all 
 talked together he had made several remarks which 
 she had answered in the general conversation ; she had 
 never met him since, and had not asked who he was 
 in the first instance, because she knew she thought him
 
 34 The Story of Eden 
 
 very handsome, and he had looked at her, and their 
 eyes had met ; at any rate, her reasons were inexplica- 
 bly feminine. In the excitement of seeing more and 
 more new people during the past three weeks, the in- 
 cident had passed from her mind. She retained her 
 impressions of Beau Livingston and True, because she 
 met them, time after time, and improved their ac- 
 quaintance. This man, riding with Teddy Barton, she 
 had never seen again until now. He turned in his 
 saddle and looked back at her, past Barton. Madge 
 knew it, but she did not look at him until he had 
 passed. Then she cast a glance searching enough at 
 his big figure in its riding dress, the fair hair shaved 
 closely to the thick tanned neck, and at every detail a 
 woman's eye could note. 
 
 " I will ask Starling who he is," she thought. " He 
 is very nice, and his clothes are all right." Then she 
 blushed furiously, and laughed at herself, and the sun- 
 shine laughed too, and danced about her hair, until it 
 looked as if a little of its priceless gold had got en- 
 tangled in a mesh of spider's webbing. 
 
 The man in question had turned to Teddy Barton as 
 soon as they were out of hearing. 
 
 " Is n't that Cunningham's house ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes, and that 's Cunningham's sister," said Barton, 
 smoothing his moustache. " That 's their vineyard to 
 our left over the hedge. It 's the best about here 
 beats the Drysdales' hollow." 
 
 "I wonder Cunningham leaves that gap in the 
 hedge," remarked Barton's companion, "Any one 
 might get in and steal his grapes." 
 
 " I dare say the Kaffirs will, but as long as Cunning- 
 ham does n't know of it, it won't matter," said Barton, 
 carelessly. He was thinking more of the white gown 
 by the gap in the hedge, than of the Professor's grapes. 
 Perhaps his companion was also. But he only smiled, 
 as if he saw a good joke that he could not share.
 
 The Story of Eden 35 
 
 There was a Field Day, on the morrow after Polly 
 Harbord's flying visit to Madge, and Starling sent 
 round a note to Vine Lodge in the morning to say 
 that she was going to drive out to the Flats and see if 
 she could catch sight of the manoeuvres; she would 
 call for Madge, if she liked to go. Madge did like, and 
 when Starling came she found her ready as, indeed, 
 she would have been for any sort of entertainment. 
 
 " I have promised to pick up Mr. Livingston, if I 
 see him on the road," she said. "That is why I 
 brought the spider and not the dog cart. It is not so 
 nice, but he won't interfere with us much, as we sit at 
 the back." 
 
 " Oh, I am very glad you did," said Madge, gener- 
 ously. " I like him, you know. How amusing he is ! " 
 
 " Yes, and so very much at anybody's disposal. He 
 is a great convenience if one wants an escort in a 
 hurry. One can be quite sure that he will never have 
 a business engagement to prevent him, at any rate." 
 
 " Who is he? He never does anything ! " 
 
 " No. He is well off, I suppose. He says that he 
 is rich enough to be idle, but not to work. The one 
 only requires credit, and the other capital. When he 
 first came out here, on account of his health, he was 
 staying at Government House, and he liked Africa so 
 well that he said he felt he must be under a delusion, 
 and he should stay to find out how soon it became 
 detestable. That is two years ago." 
 
 " He does not dislike it yet, then ! " 
 
 " No. He went to Groot Schuur for a time, because 
 he knows Mr. Rhodes, and Groot Schuur is a kind of 
 private hotel for all Mr. Rhodes' friends. The only 
 thing he will not do is to go there and entertain them 
 himself. Mr. Livingston has been Home twice but 
 he always comes back." 
 
 " I don't wonder ! I think this is a delightful place. 
 I feel as if there could n't be any very great trouble
 
 36 The Story of Eden 
 
 here at all events for long. At least not trouble of 
 one's own making. Every one seems to live just to 
 enjoy themselves ! " 
 
 " How about the men in business? " 
 
 " Yes, they work, of course but they enjoy them- 
 selves, too, don't they? And then so many of them 
 round here have made their money and retired." 
 
 "It does seem rather Arcadian on the surface," 
 Starling agreed. " And then, you see, it is all new to 
 you." 
 
 " I hope it won't ever lose its niceness. I can't 
 fancy any one doing anything wicked here, I can't 
 fancy them serious enough ! That was what struck me 
 that first day. Every one was so light-hearted, just 
 as if it were the sunshine affecting them. Oh, Starling, 
 I meant to ask you who was that man who played 
 tennis with you that afternoon?" 
 
 " I don't remember. I thought I played with True ? " 
 
 " No, he had gone back to the house to have tea. 
 The man I mean is much older than Captain Truman, 
 and big and fair. I have never met him since, but I 
 saw him riding yesterday morning." 
 
 "Oh, I remember now, of course. It was Major 
 Vibart the Duke's Major. He has been out for a 
 fortnight's shooting, I think. I haven't seen him 
 myself for some time." Starling paused, and added 
 slowly, " He isn't a very reputable character." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Madge. She did not in the least 
 understand the last clause, but she translated it as 
 meaning that Major Vibart was fast, and she thought 
 that he had looked rather like that, and that it made 
 him none the less interesting. The word " fast " con- 
 veys one thing to the ignorance of twenty quite 
 another to the experience of ten years later. It is not 
 a pretty word rightly translated. It leads to gout and 
 crow's-feet rather than Byronic repentance. 
 
 " I don't exactly know why I should say that either,"
 
 The Story of Eden 37 
 
 said Starling, in her soft little voice, for she cooed like 
 a wood-pigeon. " He has never been anything but 
 most pleasant to me, nor have I ever known him do 
 anything ungentlemanly. It is only his reputation. 
 But I suppose he must have acquired that somehow." 
 
 " I daresay it is because he is so handsome," 
 thought Madge, sensibly. " The other men are jealous, 
 or else the women think he must be bad because ^e 
 really is unusually good to look at. " 
 
 " There is Mr. Livingston ! " said Starling, pointing 
 at a cool grey figure sauntering along the road before 
 them. They were driving in the direction of Rondes- 
 bosch, along a road like the aisle of a cathedral. 
 Stem within stem stood the firs, betraying by their 
 symmetrical lines that Man planted them, and not 
 Nature, whose imagination never measures an equal 
 space between tree and tree. The branches almost 
 met overhead, and shut out the hot blue sky, except 
 for the brilliant triangles and lozenges of colour that 
 peeped through. Beau Livingston was standing in the 
 shade as they drew up, gazing through the narrow belt 
 of trees to the open ground beyond, through his field- 
 glasses. 
 
 " I have spotted the enemy ! " he said ; " but not the 
 Duke's. The Wessex are the enemy to-day. How do 
 you do, Miss Cunningham? And how are you getting 
 on under your own vine-and-fig-tree-lodge roof? Shall 
 I sit in front, Starling ? " 
 
 " Please and tell John where to go. I want to 
 see as much of it as possible." 
 
 "Then I think we will drive on about a hundred 
 yards, and leave the trap in the road while we recon- 
 noitre, if you don't mind." He gave his directions to 
 the black boy who was driving, and then turned round 
 and sat with his arm over the back of the seat to look 
 at the two bright faces behind him. 
 
 " So you like Wynberg ! " he said quietly to Madge.
 
 38 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I knew you would. It is a change from your English 
 country town, isn't it?" 
 
 " How do you know that I lived in an English coun- 
 try town?" 
 
 " Pf ! I know all your back history. You have been 
 telling it to me ever since I met you. You lived in a 
 country town with occasional visits to London which you 
 very much enjoyed, and thought very delightful. And 
 the only animals of the opposite sex whom you encoun- 
 tered were leggy boys, and old men who ought to have 
 known better." 
 
 " Oh, do go on ! " Madge said, as well as she could 
 for laughing. " It is all quite true ! " 
 
 " Of course it is quite true ! I particularly appre- 
 ciate the fact that you know what I mean when I say 
 they ought to have known better. Did they all come 
 to the point ? " 
 
 " No, of course not. I mean I don't know what you 
 mean." 
 
 " I do like winter sunsets ! " said Beau, with a soft 
 sigh of enjoyment. "To proceed was your father a 
 doctor, by the way? " 
 
 "Yes, but he died many years ago. I am an 
 orphan." 
 
 " I am perfectly aware of that especially upon the 
 mother's side." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " If you had had a mother she would have told you 
 many things. As it is, you are blissfully unwise. 
 Where was I? Oh, at your orphanage. The world 
 has not been a bad foster-mother to you, on the whole, 
 has it?" 
 
 " Everybody has been very kind particularly when 
 they were not my relations," said Madge, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Exactly. How like relations ! They are things I 
 never have myself. Miss Cunningham, I have told you 
 your past. You alone can tell your present which is,
 
 The Story of Eden 39 
 
 after all, the only thing that matters in such perfect 
 weather." 
 
 " I think I should like to get out here," said Star- 
 ling, patiently. " I am so afraid that if we don't you 
 will go on talking ! " 
 
 John had pulled up in the curve of the road. Be- 
 yond them the trees ran out like a thin streamer which 
 ended on open ground. Across the broken country, a 
 line of dust-coloured figures crept here and there 
 sometimes revolving itself into a string of pygmies with 
 Liliputian muskets in their hands, as the men showed 
 up against the skyline. In a hollow not twenty yards 
 away was a group of Staff officers whether the attack- 
 ing force or the enemy, Livingston said he could not 
 tell. The men sat motionless in their saddles in the 
 shade of a clump of trees ; every now and then a horse 
 grew impatient, and was reined back and turned 
 round, jingling his bridle. Then the sunshine flashed 
 on the steel and the gold, or caught the glitter of lace 
 and the hilt of a sword. Otherwise it had the arrested 
 motion of a photographic scene. 
 
 " How large it all is ! Those men look like dolls ! " 
 Madge said, as they made their way through the plan- 
 tation, and stood on the outskirts overlooking the Staff 
 officers in the hollow. 
 
 " That is Wyniard of the R. A. M. C. on the white 
 horse," said Livingston. " He has seen us, and is 
 coming out." 
 
 A big man in khaki was making his way towards 
 them. He drew up and saluted, and Livingston went 
 up to him and stood at his bridle rein. 
 
 " Whatever fat dray-horse have you got onto, 
 Wyniard ! " he said in his clear voice. " I never saw 
 such a beast ! He looks like a beer-barrel finished off 
 with a fiddle for a head." 
 
 " He is rather a crank. Makes a good show though 
 to any one who doesn't know. He belongs to the
 
 40 The Story of Eden 
 
 Mounted Infantry, really. That's the way Govern- 
 ment serves us. How are you, Miss Dodd?" 
 
 " Very dissatisfied that I can't see more of the 
 battle at present. What are you all doing?" 
 
 " Waiting for the enemy. They 're hiding below 
 that hill we think. There go our men ! " 
 
 He turned in his saddle at the sound of dropping 
 shots. The figures on the skyline ran forward, halted, 
 fired, and ran again. 
 
 " In full sight and range ! " remarked Livingston. 
 " What are they thinking of, Wyniard ? They must be 
 just as good a mark for the Wessex, as they are for us ! " 
 
 " No, they have the trees behind them from the 
 enemy's ground. But that open order might have 
 been better done. Vibart must have been bouncing 
 in his saddle ! There, he is sending some one out to 
 ask what they are playing at." 
 
 " Is Jack in Command ? I have n't seen him since 
 he came home. Did he have good sport? " 
 
 " I have n't heard." He slipped out of the saddle 
 and stood beside the great grey horse. " By Jove ! I 
 am hot ! I don't suppose there will be any casualties 
 for me to attend to, so I '11 take it easy for a few 
 minutes." 
 
 He hitched his horse up to a tree out of sight of the 
 Staff, and threw himself on the ground beside Starling. 
 
 " When it comes to war, we shall see the value of 
 field days," he said. " We have made about ten mis- 
 takes this morning already, and we shall make exactly 
 the same next time. A real enemy could have crum- 
 pled us up." 
 
 " Is the General there ? " 
 
 " One of 'em is, and Vibart and Scott Murray, and 
 two or three A. D. C.'s, to say nothing of Me. Oh, the 
 Staff is beautifully efficient ! " 
 
 " I wonder if we should see more round the other 
 side ? We are so far off here. I want to get into the 
 thick of it."
 
 The Story of Eden 41 
 
 " There is n't much to get into, but you might try 
 to drive round that hill. Will your pony stand the 
 firing?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. Come along, Madge, I am going into the 
 battle. There go the Staff ! " 
 
 Madge turned and looked after them as they rode 
 away in the sun. She had recognised Major Vibart. 
 
 " We must get round quickly and catch them up, if 
 we are to see anything," said Livingston, as he helped 
 the two girls into the spider again. " They have got 
 a good start. Shall I take the reins, Starling? " 
 
 " Yes, if you like. But don't turn us into the road, 
 and remember that Lollo may shy at the firing, though 
 I don't think he will." 
 
 Livingston changed places with the Kaffir boy, and 
 the trap flew. It swung from side to side as the pony 
 tore down the road, and Madge laughed with excite- 
 ment as they cut dangerously short to their left, and 
 skirting the open land, raced the Staff which they could 
 still see galloping across the burnt grass. It was like 
 flying under a bright blue sky with the black firs and 
 then the small white houses flashing past in procession 
 through their headlong race. The pony came to a 
 standstill, panting, in a narrow road at the end of 
 which Livingston had caught sight of a small detach- 
 ment, though whether it were the enemy or not he 
 could not say. Starling panted a little too, when she 
 found herself safe. 
 
 " You are so reckless ! " she said to Livingston, in- 
 dignantly. "If you don't value your own life, you 
 might think of ours. I hope you were not very fright- 
 ened, Madge? " 
 
 " I liked it," Madge confessed. Her eyes were 
 shining and dilated, and the wind had tossed her 
 misty hair about her face. " I liked the excitement 
 and I never thought of the danger ! " 
 
 " Of course not," said Livingston, coolly. " It would
 
 42 The Story of Eden 
 
 spoil the enjoyment if one were always looking on the 
 reverse side of the picture. Besides, as long as the 
 excitement lasts, the danger does not matter. But 
 you were really quite safe, Starling ! " 
 
 " Safety seems to lie in the opinion of the subject ! " 
 retorted Starling, dryly. 
 
 " Most things exist only in our opinion of them. 
 Hush ! This must be the end of the entertainment, 
 for the General is going to speak." He backed Lollo 
 a little, and they sat in the shade and listened. They 
 could hear the General's voice, but his words were 
 frequently lost as he had his back to them. 
 
 "Some one is getting a wigging," said Livingston, 
 with keen enjoyment. " Look at Forrester's face ! 
 He has just been called out for special criticism. I 
 should n't wonder if he led that last attack." 
 
 " Can they see us from here? " whispered Madge. 
 
 " Not to matter. Besides we have a perfect right to 
 be in the public road. By Jove ! they are coming this 
 way ! " 
 
 It was too late to drive on in front, so they sat there 
 helplessly, while the Staff rode past, and then the Duke's 
 and the Wessex. Starling leaned back with some 
 annoyance in her face as. one man after another saluted 
 her, but Madge was trying not to laugh. She had met 
 and played tennis with several of the men riding past 
 her soberly in khaki, but had never seen them in 
 uniform before, and her easily roused amusement 
 threatened to bubble over. 
 
 " How funny and sweet True looks in his helmet," 
 she thought, glancing along the line. Their eyes met, 
 and he smiled as he raised his hand, while Madge 
 nodded gaily. Then her eyes danced back along the 
 line, and she caught the glance of the man at that 
 moment passing the trap. It was Vibart. Madge 
 tried to look away, horrified to find that merely to 
 meet his eyes now made her blush with more than 
 her usual facility.
 
 The Story of Eden 43 
 
 " I wish I had never looked away from True," she 
 thought. " He is so safe. What must Major Vibart 
 think of me ? That I am an idiotic little schoolgirl, if 
 he recognises me at all, I suppose." 
 
 " Old Jack looks a fine figure in uniform," remarked 
 Livingston, as he drove gently homewards in the wake 
 of the soldiers. "You know Vibart, Miss Cunning- 
 ham?" 
 
 "No not exactly. I mean I met him that first 
 day I met you, but I 've never spoken to him directly." 
 
 " Ah, I see ! " Livingston's eyes sparkled. " You 
 will like him. He is a friend of mine, and a charming 
 fellow." 
 
 Starling looked at Madge, and then at Livingston. 
 " It is a great misfortune that his wife should be so 
 afflicted" she said in a tone impossible to translate. 
 
 "My dear Starling, you speak rather as if Vibart 
 were the affliction. You really ought to explain a 
 little further, or you will leave Miss Cunningham under 
 a mistaken impression. Vibart's wife is in an asylum, 
 Miss Cunningham. She is not despaired of by the 
 doctors, but there does not seem much chance of her 
 getting any better. It is rarely mentioned now, and 
 Jack gets the reputation of being an improper bachelor 
 who won't marry because of Don Juan tendencies. In 
 reality, he is that most unenviable thing, a husband 
 with no Available wife." 
 
 " Oh, poor fellow ! " Madge said involuntarily. Liv- 
 ingston smiled. Starling looked at him again, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 They were nearing Vine Lodge, trotting down the 
 very road into which its never closed gates opened, and 
 Madge's face clouded ominously as she sighted her 
 own home. She had almost forgotten her first week 
 in Africa through which she had cried her way to Mrs. 
 Drysdale's acquaintance, except when she was reminded 
 of it by the atmosphere of Vine Lodge. She was
 
 44 The Story of Eden 
 
 pluckily doing her best to make her brother's house- 
 hold move on oiled wheels, but she looked to the out- 
 side world for distraction and relief from his irascible 
 temper. 
 
 " Has your brother got you a pony yet ? " said Liv- 
 ingston, as they set her down at the gate, and he shook 
 hands with her. 
 
 " No, but he really said something about my having 
 one." (What the Professor had really said was, " As 
 you are learning, I suppose you ought to have a horse 
 of your own. It was n't worth while when you would 
 only have bumped about on the saddle and looked a 
 fool for I certainly was not going to take you out 
 with me at that stage ! However, I don't care to have 
 you always sponging on the Dodds, so I '11 think about 
 it.") " How good of you it was to speak about it to 
 him ! " 
 
 " Pf ! a little plain speaking did him no harm. I am 
 not afraid of Cunningham, or any other beetle-hunter ! 
 I wish he would take to hunting fleas, by the way ; he 
 should have the first pick of all my clean shirts. Those 
 Malays have a fine assortment. Oh, Miss Cunning- 
 ham, stop a minute ! Here 's Vibart ! " 
 
 Margery paused and turned round to see a horse 
 stopping beside the spider, and Major Vibart shaking 
 hands with Starling. He was still in uniform, as her 
 shy eyes testified. She hardly liked to look up as 
 Livingston introduced them and the Major saluted. 
 
 " How much nicer that is than when men lift their 
 hats," she thought. " I feel like the Queen." 
 
 " I have just got rid of the General, and am going 
 to my own place to change," said the Major. " I am 
 afraid it was a poor show this morning, Miss Dodd." 
 
 " Oh, we were very much entertained ! " said Star- 
 ling, demurely. 
 
 "I am afraid you were how unkind you can be 
 sometimes 1 I saw you flying along the road in hot
 
 The Story of Eden 45 
 
 pursuit of the enemy. I think you would make most 
 efficient scouts." 
 
 " That was Mr. Livingston's fault. I believe he 
 meant to kill us. It was a marvel that we didn't 
 go over." 
 
 "Miss Dodd is a coward," said Livingston, in his 
 peculiar, clear voice. " Miss Cunningham is much 
 braver. She likes the excitement, and she does not 
 think of the danger." 
 
 The two men laughed in concert, and Margery won- 
 dered what she had said to amuse them. " Well/' she 
 began, and looked up under her lashes at Vibart and 
 pouted. 
 
 " It is n't true, is it, Miss Cunningham ? You were 
 just as frightened as anybody." 
 
 " I was n't frightened until the thing was done. 
 Then, when Lollo stood still, I had time to think, and 
 we did come rather fast ! " 
 
 " What a shocking confession ! " Livingston said, 
 lightly. " That I should live to be described as fast ! 
 Vibart, my dear fellow, do I dine with you to-night?" 
 
 " I hope so. You have been pledged for some days." 
 
 "Oh, is it guest-night?" said Margery, eagerly. "I 
 am so glad ! Then I shall hear the band." 
 
 " Can you hear it at Vine Lodge? " Vibart asked. 
 
 " Yes, if I go out on the stoep. My brother goes to 
 sleep after dinner, and I am so glad when the band 
 plays. It is so dull to sit and watch a person getting 
 through all the stages of going to sleep ! " 
 
 Both men looked at her in open amusement. " Why 
 did n't you send for me ? " said Livingston, and his 
 eyes danced. " I would have brought my fancy-work 
 and sat with you." 
 
 " But oh ! " said Margery, laughing, " what would 
 happen if Anthony woke up ! " 
 
 " Let him wake up ! What is a garden for? What a 
 shrubbery? Before I would be caught the Professor
 
 46 The Story of Eden 
 
 would have to be keener than he is on a spider ! but 
 we are putting most immoral ideas into your head, and 
 I perceive that Starling is horrified." 
 
 " Not at all I am resigned. I am only wondering 
 if you will have ceased talking nonsense in time to let 
 me get home to luncheon." 
 
 "After that," said Vibart, lightly, "there remains 
 nothing for us to do but take our leave. Good-bye, 
 Miss Cunningham ; " he walked his horse round the 
 spider to Madge, where she stood by the gate. " I 
 would rather say, Au revoir," he added in a lower tone. 
 
 Madge put her hand into his, laughed nervously to 
 herself over the pressure it received, and ran down the 
 drive. % 
 
 " Really," Livingston said, as he settled himself again 
 in the spider, "Cunningham ought not to leave his 
 sister about loose like this. If I were he, a sense of 
 my responsibility would keep me painfully awake 
 even after dinner." 
 
 " The Professor probably thinks that his own grounds 
 should be safe enough for his household," said Starling, 
 with the soft petulance in her voice of an angry wood- 
 pigeon. " If you will consider a moment I think you 
 will see that it is so." 
 
 " But there is always the open gate," said Living- 
 ston, with a wave of his hand towards the proof of his 
 words. 
 
 " And the gap in the hedge," Vibart added to him- 
 self as he rode away. 
 
 Starling turned her face from her companion and did 
 not continue the conversation. Livingston had taken 
 Margery's empty seat beside her, and after two minutes 
 of the silence, the red road, and the green hedges, he 
 spoke. 
 
 "Is this dignified ignoring of my existence inten- 
 tional, Starling?" 
 
 " Not particularly. I was thinking."
 
 The Story of Eden 47 
 
 "That I am a most annoying person?" 
 
 " That you are rather undependable." 
 
 " Were you really vexed with me for driving hard to- 
 day? Surely you knew that there was no danger! I 
 would not have risked a hair of your head " 
 
 " I know, of course, that you think there was no dan- 
 ger. I object to reckless driving personally, and I ob- 
 ject to letting my friends undergo it. You did not 
 know that Miss Cunningham was not an intensely nerv- 
 ous girl. If it had been Edith Hofman she might have 
 tried to jump out." 
 
 "When you are indignant, Star, and catch your 
 breath like that, you are like a little bird ruffling up its 
 feathers. You never could do anything but peck, how- 
 ever angry you were, and your voice would always be 
 pretty and soft." 
 
 He spoke as coolly as ever, but the brilliancy of his 
 eyes altered as they rested on her face. They tried to 
 look tender, and succeeded in looking sensual. Star- 
 ling shrank in the shadow of the back seat, and drew 
 her hand away from his as it touched her no more. 
 Polly Harbord had said but it did not matter. 
 
 " I don't want my peculiarities inventoried, thank 
 you," she said sturdily. Starling always knew her own 
 mind. " My objection to you to-day is mainly that 
 you said certain things to Margery Cunningham which 
 were totally unnecessary, and you said them before 
 Major Vibart. I do not care for Major Vibart, though 
 I do not wish to say anything against him. But, you 
 know, in his Regiment, they call him ' the Tracker ' 
 and you know why." 
 
 She jumped down at her own gate and held out her 
 hand. "Good-bye," she said simply. "John will drive 
 you home. Yes, please it is too hot for any one to 
 walk, and it will not take him five minutes." She gave 
 herself a little shake as she went into the house, as 
 though she settled her plumage. " I am glad I said
 
 48 The Story of Eden 
 
 that to him he ought n't to have spoken as he did. 
 It was time I pulled him up. The sunshine and the 
 intimacy and the licence here make the men careless. 
 I know it means nothing summer weather and pro- 
 pinquity and idleness that is all. But I wonder 
 what would have happened if I had left my hand 
 there?" She frowned a little. Starling was not much 
 older than Margery, but she had learned a great deal 
 more in the same time. 
 
 "It doesn't matter but all the same it does," she 
 said to herself. " We are all so careless that we drift, 
 and it seems silly to make a fuss over a little thing, so 
 it grows, and before one knows, people gossip. And 
 Polly Harbord says "
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 " The Book of Life begins with a Man and a Woman in a 
 Garden . . . and it ends with Revelations." 
 
 " SHALL I go round to the stables and ask your man 
 for a ladder?" said True. "It is a pity to leave 
 that hanging branch if the wind gets up it will be 
 broken." 
 
 He was standing beside Margery in the drive, look- 
 ing up at the climbing roses which were trained up the 
 pillars of the stoep and along the balcony. 
 
 " Yes, I wish you would do you mind ? " she said. 
 " Robert ought to do it, but Anthony sends him on so 
 many errands that he has hardly time to attend to the 
 garden. You will find the ladder in the coachhouse. 
 I want that rose to grow all along the balcony it 
 looks so pretty from my windows ! Do you think it 
 will?" 
 
 "Are those your windows?" 
 
 "Yes, overhead. Isn't it a Juliet balcony? I think 
 you ought to come and serenade me one night?" 
 
 " I will bring the big drum," said True, serenely. 
 " It is the only instrument that I can play." 
 
 " Have you ever played it? " 
 
 " Yes the other day when we were coming home 
 from a long march. They trained the Rifles, and they 
 made us walk. And the men were tired. So to amuse 
 them, I went in front and took the drum. I played 
 them back to Camp. They quite forgot to be tired, 
 they were so interested in watching me." 
 
 " How you do love your men, True ! " 
 
 He smiled without answering. "Shall I get the 
 ladder?" he suggested in his quick, handy fashion.
 
 50 The Story of Eden 
 
 " We will do our best to make that rose grow as you 
 want it." 
 
 " You will do your best, you mean. I shall probably 
 look on." She sat down contentedly on the edge of 
 the stoep in the sunshine, her eyes resting dreamily on 
 the sunny green land all round her, which looked 
 warm and sleepy in the afternoon light. Half an hour 
 later Mrs. Drysdale, coming up the drive, laughed at 
 the tableau, True on the ladder, nailing up the rose, 
 and Margery sitting at the foot, her elbows on her 
 knees and her chin in her hands. 
 
 " I knew True was here when I saw the ladder," she 
 said, sitting down beside Margery. " All right, Captain 
 Truman, you need n't come down. Go on with your 
 work, and I will talk to Madge." 
 
 " He dropped in half an hour ago," Margery said, 
 with a nod at True. " And I always set him to work 
 when he comes. It is the easiest way of entertaining 
 him." 
 
 " Did you go to the Field-day manoeuvres yesterday? " 
 
 " Yes, Starling and Mr. Livingston and I. I do like 
 Mr. Livingston ! He amuses me so." 
 
 " He is an old fraud ! But, yes, he is amusing. I 
 have just left him at Friedenhof. He said he should 
 come on here and fetch me." 
 
 " The way that people drop in on you here is delight- 
 ful ! " Margery said with a long sigh of pleasure. " It 
 makes things so friendly, and I have got to know every 
 one round here quite well. Why, I call Captain Tru- 
 man ' True ' already and I am sure I ought not to." 
 
 " Why should n't you ? Every one does. And be- 
 sides True does n't count. If I heard you calling Mr- 
 Forrester, Pete, I should advise you not perhaps." 
 
 " Oh, but of course I should n't do that ! I don't 
 know why, but one never gets to know Mr. Forrester. 
 He is very nice socially, and I like talking to him 
 but I never want to know him any better. He is quite 
 satisfactory as he is."
 
 The Story of Eden 51 
 
 " He is represented in most people's minds by his 
 knack of saying clever things or things that sound 
 clever. But there really is more of him than that, and 
 I am not sure that it is a nice more. He tells a very 
 good story ; but unfortunately he has grown so used to 
 doing so that if the story is not good of itself he em- 
 proves upon it. He will not allow his reputation to 
 suffer for the sake of verity. Don't always believe 
 him." 
 
 " I don't think I do. He just amuses me I hardly 
 listen. Mrs. Drysdale, I have been thinking that I 
 should so like to have some tennis afternoons here. 
 Do you think I could?" 
 
 " Why not ? It is a charming house, and now you 
 have got it into order it looks very nice. Your court 
 is a good one too, I know. Is your brother the 
 objection?" 
 
 " I am afraid he would make some, anyhow ! " 
 
 " I wonder if I could manage him ? It is wonderful 
 how much more easy other women find it to manage our 
 brothers than we do ourselves. And perhaps True 
 can help." 
 
 "What is that in which I can help, Lady?" asked 
 True, as he descended the ladder and stood in front of 
 them. " The rose is all right. When it has grown a 
 little more, I will tie it up again." 
 
 " Why, Margery wants to start tennis here, and is 
 afraid of the Professor. How you are advancing, 
 Madge ! I can hardly recognise in you the tear-stained 
 individual of three weeks ago." 
 
 " Please don't ! What a little fool I was ! But I 
 was very miserable." 
 
 " I found her weeping bitterly because the furniture 
 would not arrange itself, and the servants would not 
 work, and the Professor stormed, " Mrs. Drysdale 
 explained to True. 
 
 His large eyes rested on the vexed crimson of Mar-
 
 52 The Story of Eden 
 
 gery's face with a beautiful concern. " Was it as bad 
 as that?" he said softly. "I wish I had known." 
 
 " Why? You could n't have done anything." 
 
 " I could have cried too." 
 
 "Are you going to give us tea, Madge?" Mrs. Drys- 
 dale said as she rose. " I think I ought to get home." 
 
 " I told them to put it outside the morning-room, on 
 the stoep." 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale slipped her arm into the girl's, and 
 they walked round the house together, while Truman 
 took the ladder back to the stables. " Is your brother 
 at home?" Mrs. Drysdale asked musingly. "Does he 
 ever come to tea?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, often. But he reads the paper most of 
 the time. I tried to talk to him at first, but he said 
 he would rather I held my tongue. If I had nothing 
 worth saying I was only annoying him for nothing." 
 
 "Does he generally make such pretty speeches?" 
 
 "Yes, generally." 
 
 " Yet he can be as pleasant as possible. There is 
 a good deal of difference in your ages, is n't there ? " 
 
 "Nearly twenty-five years." 
 
 " He is old enough to be your father ! What made 
 you come out to him ? " 
 
 " It was Anthony's own suggestion, and as he is the 
 moneyed member of the family, his words have weight. 
 He wanted some one to keep house for him, and he said 
 he could give me a home instead of my earning my 
 living in any other way. His letter was not partic- 
 ularly kind, but it was very uncontrovertible. I think 
 sensible people are very trying, don't you ? " 
 
 " They make mistakes too, sometimes, like the silliest. 
 I wonder your brother had you out like this. A min- 
 ute's thought would have suggested to him that a girl 
 of twenty is not an automatic machine to be applied 
 to fill a long felt want, and to be instantly satisfactory 
 especially in Africa. She will possibly grow, and
 
 The Story of Eden 53 
 
 inevitably gain experience. And it may not be con- 
 fined to housekeeping." Mrs. Drysdale appeared to 
 be musing outloud. Then she turned to Margery more 
 directly. " Do you like the Colony, Madge?" 
 
 "Yes, Ido, very much. I love the sunshine; I am 
 a regular pagan ! I should like to worship Apollo. 
 And then there is so much more doing here than 
 there was at home. And, in spite of Anthony, I go 
 out far more. I do like to enjoy myself ! " 
 
 " You are an honest little person, and it is quite nat- 
 ural. Here comes your brother with True ! " 
 
 The Professor did not read the paper while he drank 
 his tea. He talked to Mrs. Drysdale, of whose long, 
 graceful figure and taste in dress he approved. He 
 even forbore to do more than absolutely decline to 
 hear of it when she suggested the tennis afternoons. 
 He was not at all rude, and he did not abuse her ; he 
 merely said that before he had any of that kind ol 
 foolery at Vine Lodge, he would shut up the house and 
 go and live Up Country, where Society could not annoy 
 him. This, for him, was a great self-restraint. Be- 
 cause if Madge had made the tennis suggestion when 
 they were alone, he would have nagged at her for half 
 an hour with interjections that still made her turn from 
 white to red and bite her lips. She never could accus- 
 tom herself to rough language. 
 
 " He will come to it yet," Mrs. Drysdale said to her- 
 self coolly. " When a man says ' no ' as boisterously 
 as that, he is always to be managed. Margery will give 
 tennis parties, and dinner parties, too, before the year 
 is out." 
 
 True had gone on talking to Margery throughout the 
 discussion. His eyes opened wider than ever, with a 
 troubled compassion, but he took no other notice of 
 what the Professor and Mrs. Drysdale were saying. 
 Margery smiled a little ; her lips were still so young 
 that they found it difficult to be bitter, but she had
 
 54 The Story of Eden 
 
 learned to smile with a certain dryness of humour far 
 removed from mirth. "Are you going to Friedenhof?" 
 she said, as True was leaving. 
 
 " I shall pass there on my way, if you have a mes- 
 sage ? " 
 
 " Would you mind telling Starling that I would rather 
 ride in the afternoon than the morning?" 
 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 Both her visitors left together, and Margery stood on 
 the stoep to watch them depart into the sunset. The 
 Professor had subsided into an easy-chair and the news- 
 paper, but his ill-tempered figure was still visible be- 
 hind her as they turned round at the curve of the drive 
 to look back. 
 
 "Anthony Cunningham is a brute ! " said Mrs. Drys* 
 dale, calmly. " Don't contradict me, True ! I say he 
 is a brute ! " 
 
 "I don't think he means to be, Lady. It is only 
 manner, and perhaps he has got into the habit of say- 
 ing disagreeable things." 
 
 " I wish you were not so invariably charitable. You 
 are always poking round into rubbish-heaps for stray 
 jewels. You may poke and poke in the Professor, but 
 beyond general nastiness, you won't find anything in- 
 teresting. The worst of it is, that he is driving that 
 little girl into outside distraction. And that is not good 
 for any little girl out here. We must help her, True." 
 
 " Yes, Lady, I want to." 
 
 They shook hands at the open gate and parted. 
 True turned to the left, and took the longer road to 
 Camp that led round past Friedenhof. Mrs. Drysdale 
 went to the right, and twenty yards farther on was 
 overtaken by Beaumont Livingston. 
 
 " Well met ! " he said gaily ; " though I meant you 
 to stay at Vine Lodge until I came ; I should thus have 
 seen two charming ladies instead of one. Miss Cun- 
 ningham sent her love to me, of course?"
 
 The Story of Eden 55 
 
 " If you wanted to know, you might have left Frie- 
 denhof a little sooner and come in to Vine Lodge ; as 
 it is, you only just caught me. I am troubled about 
 Madge," she added, as they walked on side by side. 
 " I have just been telling True " 
 
 "Yes, I met him. Don't tell True; tell me. What 
 was he doing at Vine Lodge ? " 
 
 " Nailing up a creeper. Oh, that is all right ; don't 
 be ridiculous ! Margery has been at Vine Lodge three 
 weeks ; but the atmosphere out here has the effect of 
 a forcing house. She might have left England three 
 months. She is older." 
 
 " We must all leave the nursery in time. But I see 
 no alarming symptoms in Margery. Did you ever 
 encounter a more blooming specimen of youth and 
 health? I do not want to kiss many people, but I 
 confess I always think of kisses when I look at her ! 
 She is so nice and soft and round ! " 
 
 " Don't be so terribly material ! It was not Mar- 
 gery's body that I was thinking of; it was her mind. 
 She is not growing as yet ; she is only living ! I ex- 
 pected her to develop." 
 
 "What in three weeks? And you own that she 
 is older ! I don't see what more you could expect of 
 her in the time. Do leave the poor child alone. She 
 is living and expanding, like all young animals, and 
 by-and-by she will 'develop' quite sufficiently to be 
 disagreeable. At present she is as transparent as fine 
 glass " 
 
 " And as shallow ! " 
 
 " Of course she is, and quite right, too ! Depths 
 are always uncomfortable things, and to be happy as 
 she is happy requires a skill beyond yours and mine. 
 We lost it long since ! " For a minute his face altered, 
 and he was an elderly man. Some shadow from his 
 eyes seemed to be reflected in Mrs. Drysdale's. They 
 shook hands silently, and parted at her own gate.
 
 56 The Story of Eden 
 
 True faithfully delivered Madge's message, and she 
 rode with Starling the following afternoon. The Pro- 
 fessor had not yet obtained a pony for his sister, but 
 he was in treaty for one, and Madge looked forward to 
 the new possession eagerly. As she turned in at her 
 own gates, she saw a figure coming towards her down 
 the drive, and drew rein in some surprise. 
 
 " How do you do, Major Vibart? " she said, bending 
 down to shake hands. 
 
 "How are you?" he returned pleasantly. "I have 
 just been to call upon you ; I was sorry to find you out." 
 
 " Is Anthony out, too? " 
 
 "So your servants say. He has gone to Newlands." 
 
 " I did not know he was going. Won't you come 
 back to the house and have some tea? " She was not 
 quite sure that she ought to suggest it in the Professor's 
 absence, but she was quite sure that she wanted to do 
 so. And it was only tea, after all ; tea was not like 
 dinner ! Of course she would not ask him to dinner ; 
 but True had had tea alone with her once ; and 
 " Will you come," she said. 
 
 " Thanks if you are going to have it ? " 
 
 " Of course I am." She turned in her saddle to 
 extricate herself from the pommel and jump down. 
 Vibart came to the rescue before the Kaffir boy could 
 dismount, and putting his hands on her waist, lifted 
 her easily to the ground. 
 
 " I am always afraid to see girls jump ; they so often 
 twist their ankles," he said quietly. 
 
 " Take the ponies back, please, John," Margery said 
 to her late escort. "And tell Miss Dodd I will be 
 ready any time after ten to-morrow morning. Come 
 along, Major Vibart ; tea is on the stoep." 
 
 " I did not know you rode," he said, as he followed 
 her. 
 
 " I am learning. I like it so much ! Sugar? " 
 
 " Please. You were riding one of Dodd's ponies? "
 
 The Story of Eden 57 
 
 " Yes ; Anthony is going to get one for me, but he 
 hasn't arranged for it yet. I am getting on quite 
 nicely. I can trot at last." 
 
 " I wish you would let me give you a few lessons," 
 he said slowly. " Would you ? I don't suppose your 
 brother has much time ; and I think it is really safer 
 for you to learn with a man than with another girl. 
 Suppose something happened?" 
 
 " But nothing has happened ; and I am past the 
 worst stage now. Thank you very much; but I am 
 afraid " 
 
 "You think your brother would not let you ride 
 with me? " 
 
 Margery blushed as generously as the roses. She 
 remembered every hint and accusation she had heard 
 against this man, and felt small and mean in the sight 
 of the grave blue eyes watching her. If only he had 
 not put it in that way ! 
 
 "Anthony is rather odd about things," she said 
 breathlessly. " I don't often ask leave to do this or 
 that, because it makes such a fuss, that 's all. I wanted 
 to have tennis here, and you can't think how cross he 
 was ! It is only because he dislikes being asked." 
 
 " Supposing I got his permission, you would have no 
 objection to ride with me? " 
 
 " Of course not ; I should be very pleased par- 
 ticularly if you will finish my education," she said 
 hastily. 
 
 " I will be a most exacting master. How long have 
 you been out here, Miss Cunningham ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, every one asks me that ! Am I so obvi- 
 ously new?" 
 
 " You are rather. I always think more regretfully of 
 England after I have met you." 
 
 She looked up to laugh and say she could not see the 
 compliment, met his eyes, and was again conscious of 
 that strange signal between them. "What is it? " she
 
 58 The Story of Eden 
 
 said inwardly. "What is it? I seem to have known 
 him to have almost belonged to him ever so long 
 ago from the beginning." 
 
 " I have been out three weeks," she said soberly. 
 " Not long enough to alter my excessive greenness, I 
 suppose. I am what the Australians call a ' tenderfoot.' " 
 
 " I hope you won't lose your freshness, for all our 
 sakes." 
 
 " I said ' greenness.' " 
 
 " And I said ' freshness.' " 
 
 Madge made him a present of another blush. She 
 was rather prodigal of her ruddy favours in those days, 
 but it was a habit she never entirely lost. As John 
 Mortimer Vibart sat in his wicker chair on the stoep, 
 where a jutting wall covered with honeysuckle made a 
 cosy corner behind him, his eyes could rest without let 
 or hindrance on the sun-shot cobwebs of her hair, 
 for she had thrown her hat aside, and the wind had 
 ruffled her head, snare-wise, on the curved sweep of 
 her eyelashes with the glint of blue between them, the 
 ingenuous tilted line of nose and upper lip and chin, 
 all shortened and rounded with the unformed softness 
 of youth. Under her chin the little white throat melted 
 into the hard linen collar, and below that the severe 
 habit made the utmost of a developing bust and slen- 
 der waist. She held the habit out of her way with her 
 left hand while she stood beside the tea-table pouring 
 out the tea with her right. He missed no curve of her 
 as he sat in his corner watching with the steady, de- 
 vouring gaze of a beast of prey. As fresh and fragrant 
 as the honeysuckle, as dainty and delicate as the fretted 
 sunshine among the firs, as young and maidenly as the 
 ripening fruit in the garden there below, not ready 
 to be picked as yet. Vibart looked, and coveted, much 
 as he might have coveted the cool sweet grapes if this 
 had been the barren and dry land where no water is, 
 that it has the reputation of being.
 
 The Story of Eden 59 
 
 " You like the Colony ? " he said. 
 
 " Very much. Don't you ? " 
 
 " Certainly just now." 
 
 If he had not laughed, she might have suspected 
 danger ; as it was she laughed also. It was so good to 
 laugh, and there could be no fear where people were 
 merely merry. They were still laughing and talking by 
 the tea-table when the thin, angular figure of the Pro- 
 fessor sauntered round the house, and came up the 
 steps, peering with prominent brown eyes to see who 
 Madge's visitor could be. He seemed surprised to 
 recognise Vibart, and his sister's tensely-strung nerves 
 quivered into relief at the civility, which was almost 
 cordiality, of his tone. She had yet to learn that the 
 Professor differed from his Maker as much as possible 
 in being a respecter of persons. Vibart was not only 
 second in command, but well off in a Regiment which 
 was notoriously poor. The Professor shook hands with 
 him, hardly listening to Madge's hesitating explanation 
 of his presence, and offered him a cigar. 
 
 "Will you have a whisky, Major? " he said. "I 'm 
 sure it 's better for you than all that washy tanin." 
 
 " Thanks," said Vibart, carelessly. " If you are hav- 
 ing one yourself." 
 
 " Tell the girl to bring soda and glasses, Madge," the 
 Professor said over his shoulder. " That 's the most 
 comfortable chair, Major. Sit down and have a chat. 
 I have n't seen a civilised being to speak to for days. 
 I 'm sorry I was out this afternoon." 
 
 Margery could hardly believe her ears. She gave the 
 servant the requested instructions, and having seen her 
 brother and his guest supplied with drink and smoke, 
 slipped away to her own room to meditate. 
 
 " How nice he is ! " she thought, and she was not 
 referring to her brother. " He talks so well, and he 
 is n't a bit silly, though he does make you feel " 
 She went out on the balcony round which True had
 
 60 The Story of Eden 
 
 trained the roses, and leaned her arms on the rail. 
 From the stoep beneath came the sound of her brother's 
 voice and Vibart's ; they had reached the question of 
 the increase of the coloured population, and the Pro- 
 fessor was snarling. Vibart's tones were the more 
 pleasant to listen to by contrast; he spoke with a full, 
 soft note that rose and fell easily. Margery listened to 
 the sound with enjoyment, she could not distinguish 
 the words, but he appeared to have left the political 
 view, and to be telling a story, for the Professor laughed. 
 Many older women than Margery Cunningham had 
 experienced the charm of Vibart's voice and manner, 
 he was clever socially, but it was fortunate that the 
 drift of his present conversation passed Margery's ears, 
 unhearing. When with men he was very excellent 
 company. 
 
 The Professor came to the dinner-table in a good 
 temper. The whisky he had drunk had not yet 
 affected his liver, and had raised his spirits. He 
 remarked that Vibart was a nice fellow and a gentle- 
 man, and Margery's heart warmed to her brother for 
 his discrimination. 
 
 " At least he does not listen to gossip, or allow it to 
 prejudice him. He must have heard plenty of stories 
 about Major Vibart, yet he openly says he is glad to see 
 him. Of course if he thought him a really questionable 
 character, he would not have him here, as I am in the 
 house, and he seemed to quite like my talking to 
 him," she thought in all innocence. The Professor was 
 in truth somewhat pleased that his sister had appeared 
 able to entertain Major Vibart in his absence, and that 
 gentleman's attitude towards her had raised her in her 
 brother's estimation. The Professor was sublimely 
 indifferent to people's reputations, quite superior to 
 such grovelling details, in fact, so long as no disagree- 
 able consequences accrued to him from their acquaint- 
 ance. If the Major had been a shady character as
 
 The Story of Eden 61 
 
 regarded debt, or gambling, or drink, and had not worn 
 such well-cut coats and been welcome in the uppermost 
 seats of the Wynbergian synagogue, Anthony Cunning- 
 ham would have shunned him like the plague, and 
 would have said that he could not afford to be seen 
 with such people, it was damaging to his own posi- 
 tion. But Vibart did not want to borrow money of him, 
 and his name of " the Tracker" threatened nothing to 
 the Professor individually. He did not look further. 
 
 " By the way, Madge," he said during dinner. " I 
 have seen that pony that Drysdale recommended. I 
 think it will do all right, but I shall try it myself first. 
 It is as well to have one that is up to my weight, in case 
 I want it at any time. Vibart wants you to ride one of 
 his for a day or so." 
 
 " Oh, yes, he mentioned something about it," Madge 
 said, as carelessly as she could. Her heart beat high, 
 and she waited breathlessly for what should come. 
 
 " Of course if he likes to lend it to you, you can 
 accept. It is really very good of him, considering that 
 you are a beginner. For God's sake don't let it down ! " 
 
 " I don't see why I should let Major Vibart's pony 
 down any more than Mr. Dodd's. I have ridden his 
 from the first time I went out, and I am surely more to 
 be trusted now than then." 
 
 She did not ask whether the Major had also offered 
 himself as an escort, but left the arranging of the 
 situation to Fate. She went a step further however 
 when she wrote to Starling, next day, to say she did 
 not think she could come for her usual ride. 
 
 " I sha'n't say that I am going with Major Vibart," 
 she argued, " because I don't know that I am. He 
 did n't say he would bring the pony to-day, or send it. 
 Ten chances to one he won't. In that case, I shall be 
 the only one to suffer, because I shall miss my ride. 
 But I will just leave it and see. Anthony does n't like 
 my always using Mr. Dodd's ponies, so a day off is a 
 good thing."
 
 62 The Story of Eden 
 
 It was a brilliant day. The air seemed to twinkle 
 with its own radiance and heat, and the bright-coloured 
 country round Vine Lodge seemed more untouched 
 with the sadness of the world than ever. Margery 
 spent the morning on the stoep working ; it chanced 
 that no visitors dropped in on her, and she had the 
 sunshine and the warm sweet-smelling garden to her- 
 self. The bugles called across the distance, and a 
 detachment of infantry swung down the road, route- 
 marching, with the band playing "Tommy Atkins," 
 and once a solitary horseman came down from Camp, 
 along the narrow white way between the little red 
 cottages and the vineyards ; but he turned to the left, 
 instead of coming up the lane to Vine Lodge. Mar- 
 gery took up her work again that had fallen in her lap, 
 and went on sewing. 
 
 The Professor had gone to Cape Town. Margery 
 lunched alone, in the shaded dining-room with the 
 sunlight trying to creep between the lowered Venetian 
 blinds; she was somewhat sobered from her secret 
 anticipations of the morning, and ate her grapes pen- 
 sively. There were always grapes at every meal 
 through the season, cold, bloomy, and luscious, and 
 the white wine of Constantia which is made from them 
 and is like Muscatel. After luncheon she put on her 
 "cappie," which is a big pink or white sun-bonnet, 
 and went into the sun-warmed garden. In Madge's 
 case the bonnet was pink, with a flapping border, and 
 her face peeped out between the frills, which made an 
 ideal frame for her young beauty, warm lips, round 
 cheeks, dewy eyes, and hair like cobwebs with the 
 sunshine tangled in it. She made a tour through all 
 her domain, from the little plantation of fir-trees 
 behind the house, how odorous they smelt, and 
 how strong of pine in the noontide heat ! down 
 through the kitchen garden, the ripening mealies, and 
 the peach-trees, even to the vineyard. As she saun-
 
 The Story of Eden 63 
 
 tered up the steps to the higher level of the drive 
 again, between the oleander bushes, her heart gave a 
 sudden throb, and she stood still with a curious reali- 
 sation of Fate. Two horses stood before the door, and 
 a figure in riding-dress was apparently having an alter- 
 cation with the Kaffir girl, who nodded and grinned 
 with double vehemence as Madge appeared. 
 
 " Oh, Major Vibart, did you mean to ride now ? 
 Won't it be too hot?" she said, coming forward, and 
 looking up from the pink shadows of the cappie. 
 
 It was not often that he was taken at a disadvantage, 
 but for a second he only looked and did not speak. 
 
 " I thought I would just come in and see how you 
 felt about it," he said, and there was some sort of 
 effort in his voice. '' Do you think it will be too hot ? 
 It is past three by the time you have got on your 
 habit, and we start, it will be nearly four." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mind the heat. If you are willing, I 
 will change as quickly as possible, and we will go at 
 once. I am quite ready. Which is my pony? This? 
 What a dear ! " 
 
 " He is a capital lady's horse." They stood side by 
 side to examine the animals, a few minutes more of 
 the sun-bonnet, before Madge changed into more con- 
 ventional attire. Women are fond of blaming the 
 Devil for their misfortunes, but after all they are his 
 best ministers. He can generally be quite sure that 
 they will do their best to help him. 
 
 Margery did not take long to change into her habit ; 
 an unacknowledged fear that the Professor would come 
 home before she started made her quicker than usual. 
 Of course he might raise no objection to her riding 
 with Vibart, or he might join the party himself. Mar- 
 gery honestly owned to herself that the excursion would 
 considerably lose its attractions if he did. She had no 
 absolute assurance that he did not mean her to ride 
 with Vibart alone she would do so anyhow this once,
 
 64 The Story of Eden 
 
 and "just see." Again the influence of the past few 
 weeks. 
 
 " Now if I do anything wrong, you must be sure and 
 tell me of it," she said as she settled herself in the 
 saddle. "Please, don't be polite and only think 
 things." 
 
 " I will put a leading rein on your pony if you like. 
 Is that stirrup short enough? " 
 
 " Yes no ! I think I should like it a hole higher." 
 
 She could not help smiling down upon him as he 
 stood with the bridle of his own horse slung over his 
 shoulder, and his handsome face bent over her foot. 
 He was extremely bronzed from his fortnight's shooting 
 Up Country, and Madge thrilled a little with pleasure 
 as she covertly noted the strength of his shorn square 
 chin and the breadth of his chest and shoulders. He 
 was a tall man, well-developed and well-trained, thanks 
 to his profession. People who go to cattle-shows, and 
 are judges of such things, observe and admire the same 
 class of advantages in the entries there. Vibart was 
 standing so close to her that Margery could detect a 
 faint scent of cigar smoke about him, ever a pleasant 
 scent in the open air, but always with a masculine sug- 
 gestion about it to a woman. It was almost a relief 
 when he swung himself into his own saddle and they 
 rode away, up the lane, and out of the open gate into 
 the sunny red road. 
 
 " Now, where shall we go ? To the Flats ? " she said. 
 
 " Have you been out to Bishop's Court yet ? " 
 
 " No, I don't think so. We have generally gone to 
 the Lady's Mile, or out by Kenilworth." 
 
 " This way then. Don't hold your rein so tightly, 
 please your pony will go better if you loosen it." 
 
 " I am so afraid, with a strange pony, that he will 
 stumble ! " 
 
 " Oh, he is quite sure-footed, and besides you could 
 pull him up with the rein like that. You can hold a
 
 The Story of Eden 65 
 
 horse perfectly without letting him know it until the 
 moment comes or a man either." 
 
 " My experience of the latter animal is limited." 
 
 "Is it? I should not have thought so." 
 
 " Perhaps you could give me hints in that art too? " 
 
 "What art?" 
 
 " The management of man." 
 
 " Miss Cunningham, will you forgive me if I say you 
 are a little hypocrite ? " 
 
 " No, I don't think I should so don't say it." 
 
 " I shall think it anyhow. Do you really want to 
 know how to manage men? " 
 
 " It would be interesting to hear a masculine 
 opinion." 
 
 " Will you give me a feminine opinion if I state 
 mine?" 
 
 " I won't promise but I think I will. Well? " 
 
 " Go on as you have begun." 
 
 The horses were walking side by side up the soft red 
 road in the direction of the mountains, which rose 
 before them distinct, yet without a hard outline, and 
 warm with purple shadows and golden lights. Blue 
 was everywhere, in the pure vaulted sky over the 
 alternate oaks and firs which lined the roads, in the 
 flowerful plumbago hedges crowned with quivering 
 colour and delicate breath, and in Margery's eyes 
 between the curve of the lashes. The motion of the 
 horses was enough to send the blood flying through 
 her young veins without the excitement of keeping 
 mental pace with the subtle influence of Vibart's tone. 
 He said more than the mere words he spoke. 
 
 " I thought you were going to advise me to learn to 
 cook," she said, with a laugh born of her racing 
 blood. " I think that is the feminine ideal of man- 
 aging men." 
 
 " I should never trouble to tell you to look after a 
 man's physical wants." 
 
 S
 
 66 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because you are much too clever to neglect such 
 an obvious advantage." Margery was young enough 
 to like being called clever. " Miss Cunningham, I 
 wonder if you would think it very strange if I confided 
 in you." 
 
 Margery was young enough to feel flattered by a 
 confidence from such a man. She had realised that 
 he was a person of importance in her present world, 
 and he had a vaguely fascinating reputation ; further- 
 more, he managed her perfectly. 
 
 " I should be very flattered," she said, for she was 
 an honest little girl. 
 
 "You know Beau Livingston, don't you? " 
 
 Yes " 
 
 " He is a friend of mine. He met me this morning, 
 and in the course of conversation he said, in his light 
 way, that Miss Dodd had been trying to poison your 
 mind against me. Now, please, don't think that I 
 believe that literally I know Livingston was only 
 joking, but I know too that he had some foundation 
 for the remark. Is n't that so ?" 
 
 The flush on Margery's face answered him. 
 
 "Whatever Miss Dodd said," Vibart spoke in a 
 lower voice, and looking straight between his horse's 
 ears, "I don't think she would be uncharitable. 
 But in any case, I don't want you to be prejudiced 
 against me. You won't let yourself be so, will you? " 
 
 " No, of course not. But indeed I don't listen to 
 gossip, Major Vibart. You must n't think " 
 
 " 1 don't think anything. Only I am very anxious 
 that you should be friends with me will you ? You 
 don't know how much a man in my position values a 
 girl's friendship ! " 
 
 It was as old as the hills, a paraphrase of the 
 eternal. "I am a bad man, and you, as a good 
 woman, can influence me. Undertake my conver-
 
 The Story of Eden 67 
 
 sion," with the added reference to his unusual 
 misfortune skilfully thrown in. Madge was quick to 
 feel ; her eyes grew rather misty, and she impulsively 
 reached out her hand to him. 
 
 " Indeed I will ! And I don't mind what anybody 
 says. They are sure to gossip in a place like this." 
 
 He took the kind little hand, and turning back the 
 riding gauntlet kissed the soft wrist. It was very 
 chivalrous, Madge thought, and even if an element of 
 flirtation should enter into their compact of friendship, 
 it could not possibly matter now that they understood 
 each other. " Poor man, I daresay he is glad enough 
 to distract himself ! " she thought ingenuously. " And 
 it won't hurt me ! " Twenty is an age when we are 
 serenely certain of being bullet-proof. 
 
 "Shall we try a canter?" Vibart said in a lighter 
 tone, and, Madge assenting, they rode joyously forward 
 between the sunlit earth and the blue sky, with no 
 trace in their faces of tragedy in the past or thought 
 for the morrow. It was a splendid ride, Madge always 
 thought afterwards ; she did not know that she would 
 ever enjoy another more. Vibart was a delightful com- 
 panion, tactful, amusing, ready to laugh or to fence 
 with "verbal point and parry," with the facility of twenty 
 years' practice behind him, and the whetted appetite of 
 the present to make him exert himself. 
 
 "I hope we shall have many rides together," he 
 said, as they turned homewards again. 
 
 " I hope we shall," Madge assented gaily. 
 
 " May I come to-morrow? It is a pity to lose the 
 fine weather at the end of the summer ! " 
 
 " I shall be very pleased," said Madge, wondering 
 how she was to explain to Starling. "What a pity 
 summer does n't last all the year round, even here ! " 
 
 " Winter is not so serious a season as in England, 
 you know. It is cold and rainy, but one gets beautiful 
 warm days, and sunshine nearly always,"
 
 68 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I am glad of that. Don't you love the sunshine ? " 
 
 "What a lot of love you do waste on inanimate 
 Nature ! You loved that old house of the Bishop's 
 just now, and now it is the sunshine ! " 
 
 "I always think Nature is so well worth loving. She 
 gives you measure for measure." 
 
 "Not more than human beings, surely?" 
 
 " I don't know. There is always ' 1'un qui baise,' 
 you know." 
 
 "Is there? I do not know, but am open to learn." 
 
 " Now you are talking nonsense." 
 
 " Excuse me, we were talking about measure for 
 measure, and ' le baiser.' " 
 
 She laughed in spite of herself. " Well, can you 
 honestly say you have ever given measure for 
 measure? " 
 
 " In what commodity? " 
 
 " I could only mean one ! " 
 
 " Why not ? Have you never tried " 
 
 " Of course I have n't ! " 
 
 What ? " 
 
 She gave a vexed laugh at finding herself in a cor- 
 ner. " I mean well, what did you mean? " she said. 
 
 " What I mean is that if you like to offer me either, 
 I will give measure for measure ' pressed down, and 
 running over.' " 
 
 But without answering, she put her pony into a can- 
 ter and rode on through the sun and the shadow, with 
 the wind cooling the surprised flush on her face. " He 
 should n't oh, he should n't really," she thought 
 between her irrepressible laughter and the intoxication 
 of her own high spirits. " But he got me nicely into a 
 corner, and how cool of him to turn it round like 
 that ! " 
 
 Not until they had nearly reached Vine Lodge again 
 did Vibart refer to their compact. 
 
 " I wish you would give me a piece of plumbago to
 
 The Story of Eden 69 
 
 remind me of this ride of ours," he said. " Won't you ? 
 Because we are going to be such friends." 
 
 Margery leaned from her saddle and pulled a spray 
 of the ephemeral blue flowers. 
 
 " How pretty they are ! " she said, " and how soon 
 they fade. They look nothing by gaslight either 
 they are just made for the sunshine and the day. 
 There " some instinct of coquetry had made her 
 divide the flowers and tuck half of them into her breast. 
 " There is your reminder. I suppose you will find it 
 withered to-morrow morning, and throw it away, won- 
 dering why you kept it. And then what becomes of 
 the remembrance? " 
 
 " You can be very cruel, Miss Margery. But I shall 
 leave facts to contradict you." 
 
 As he took the flower, his eyes met hers, and she 
 drew back. Only for an instant then she had lost 
 the impression again, and they rode home gaily. She 
 kept her little feeling of triumphant amusement all the 
 evening, and the smile in her eyes and the song on her 
 lips partook of it. 
 
 " Si vous n'avez rien 4 me dire, 
 Pourquoi venir aupres de moi ? " 
 
 " I wish you would get out of that disgusting habit 
 of humming, Madge," said the Professor. Yesterday's 
 whisky was revenging itself upon him. 
 
 " I '11 go into the garden then you won't hear me," 
 said Margery, somewhat flippantly. 
 
 " Pourquoi me faire ce sourire, 
 
 Qui tournerait la tete d'un roi ! " 
 
 " Would it, I wonder? 'Qui tournerait la tete d'une 
 reine ' I daresay !" 
 
 " Si vous n'avez rien i m' apprendre 
 
 Pourquoi me pressez vous la main ? 
 Sur le reve angelique et tendre 
 Auquel vous songez en chemin I "
 
 yo The Story of Eden 
 
 " I wonder if he knew that he had slipped from Miss 
 Cunningham into Miss Margery in one single after- 
 noon ? I must really be careful, or we might lose the 
 ' Miss ' altogether. Should I mind much ? I wonder 
 no, I won't wonder. I will just enjoy."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 " Doubt not the heavy Snake was whitt 
 Who tempted Eve from Paradise I " 
 
 JOHNNIE DODD had come down from Johannesburg two 
 years since and settled at Friedenhof because it was the 
 most expensive house he could find. He was a simple 
 soul, and believed in the touchstone of price. " If a 
 thing is good, you must pay for it," he argued, and 
 delightedly put down his ten thousand pounds as a 
 beginning of operations. Friedenhof was an old Dutch 
 house, large and roomy; but Johnnie's views were 
 larger. He began to expend some of the enterprise 
 which had stood him in good stead "Between the 
 Chains " in adding embellishments to his house, until 
 the original structure began to have the scandalised 
 air of an old lady tricked out in juvenile garments. 
 When Beau Livingston first drifted into Wynberg 
 society, and stayed there awhile to laugh at it, he 
 found Johnnie Dodd adding a large billiard-room to 
 his west wing with immense energy, and stated his 
 opinion with beautiful directness. 
 
 " Johnnie, you are a Goth ! " 
 
 " Don't care if I am ! " said Johnnie, airily, in the 
 high windy voice which surprised strangers from his 
 large solid person. " 1 go in for comfort and conven- 
 ience." And he went on building. 
 
 " Johnnie," said Beau, serenely, " you are a fool ! " 
 
 Johnnie Dodd stopped building, and considered the 
 proposition. It touched the question of price, for ii 
 he were a fool, he might be damaging the market value 
 of his property. 
 
 " You have got a singularly curious and interesting
 
 72 The Story of Eden 
 
 Dutch house," said Livingston. "Something of a 
 unique specimen, with a value that money cannot 
 produce, though it can buy it once made. You are 
 busy now adding anachronisms in the way of glass 
 houses and hot water pipes, and are depreciating your 
 own property." 
 
 " Just what I began to fear ! " said Johnnie, rubbing 
 his hair up on end. " But I want to play billiards and 
 to have my hot bath." 
 
 "Then play billiards and bathe, but do not build 
 brand-new rooms to do these things in. The house 
 is far too large for you and your wife now, and even 
 when your daughter comes home from school she can- 
 not occupy more than a suite of rooms. Use that 
 which you have, and alter to suit your convenience ; 
 but with due respect to the Dutchmen, who knew far 
 better how to build for the climate than you do." 
 
 So Johnnie stayed his hand, and devoted his inven- 
 tive mind to adapting modern luxuries to old stability, 
 in such a cunning fashion that it should not jar on 
 antiquarians. He introduced a marble bath and elec- 
 tric light, and he kept his glass houses out in the 
 grounds that they should not stare in on his cool, 
 vast drawing-rooms under the impertinent guise of 
 conservatories. A year later, Starling came home from 
 school in Switzerland, and Johnnie had again to be 
 restrained from breaking out in a new direction. 
 
 " I must have a room where the little girl can 
 dance," he expostulated with Beau. " And what 's 
 the good of all those tiles?" 
 
 " Very well, then have a parquet floor that you can 
 put down over the tiles which are the original flooring 
 of such houses as Friedenhof, and which it is sacrilege 
 to dig up. You '11 have to pay for it, and that will 
 please you," said Livingston. 
 
 The Millionaire put his hand into his pocket, and 
 was content.
 
 The Story of Eden 73 
 
 Starling's own rooms made another outlet for her 
 father's expenditure. She was the only child, and 
 adored by both parents, from whom she fortunately 
 inherited enough good sense and simplicity of character 
 to prevent her being unbearably spoilt. She was a 
 little person who liked knick-knacks, and the objects 
 of " bigotry and virtue " in her " den " would have 
 furnished a museum. 
 
 True was always making or arranging or putting up 
 something for Starling, a process which involved his 
 being in and out of Friedenhof so perpetually that no 
 one minded him any more than the household cat, and 
 Mr. Johnnie hardly troubled to treat him as a visitor 
 when he met him on his own doorstep. 
 
 " Hulloa, my boy ! " he would say, patting the little 
 Captain on the back with a huge hand. " Have I seen 
 you before to-day? I really forget. Are you going in 
 to see the womenkind?" 
 
 " Is Mrs. Johnnie in, sir?" True would smile. 
 
 " If she is n't, Starling is," Mr. Johnnie would reply. 
 " Come and have a game of billiards with me when 
 you 're tired of petticoats. I 'm just going through the 
 grounds to see that those lazy niggers are keeping 
 things up as I told them ! " 
 
 Whereupon True would conduct himself into the 
 hospitably open house and through the corridors to 
 Starling's domains, where he gave a peculiar double 
 knock of which no one else knew the secret. True 
 and Starling had a code of signals, which was no doubt 
 a great convenience to them. They had known each 
 other just about a year when Margery Cunningham 
 came to Wynberg, which was equal to a seven years' 
 acquaintance at Home. A shifting population forces 
 an intimacy of years to be condensed into a few months. 
 Under these circumstances the hothouse intimacies of 
 the Colony are understandable, and a whole life's 
 experience in England may be condensed into a 
 year or so
 
 74 The Story of Eden 
 
 True appeared at Friedenhof in his usual fashion 
 one afternoon that summer, and finding the hall door 
 open, and no one about, he walked in without ringing 
 the bell. It was only about a week since he had nailed 
 up Madge's roses, and spoken to Mrs. Drysdale about 
 her. Now he had his reasons for wishing to speak to 
 Starling. He did not meet Mr. Johnnie as he half ex- 
 pected, so he went straight to Starling's domains, and 
 knocked at the outer door. Starling was at home in 
 her nest, and said, " Come in, True." 
 
 "What is the Lady doing?" said True, as he came 
 in smiling. All the sunshine of the outer world seemed 
 to be shining darkly in his eyes, and he looked particu- 
 larly radiant as he sat down beside the writing-table 
 where Starling was dimly discernible amongst a forest 
 of papers. 
 
 " Writing invitations. Mother is giving a moonlight 
 picnic next week. Take a pen and address the en- 
 velopes, True." 
 
 True moved his chair closer to the scribe, and es- 
 tablishing himself as near as circumstances would per- 
 mit, he set to work. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Forrester," he read, sotto voce. " Shall I 
 address Pete's to Camp, or to the Cottage, Lady?" 
 
 "The Cottage. And there's Edith Hofman's 
 better do the pair together." 
 
 True smiled under his moustache, and wrote the en- 
 velopes. 
 
 " Next, please, ' Beaumont Livingston ' what is 
 that you are tearing up? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing only yours. I did n't know you 
 would come to-day, so I just wrote it to be on the safe 
 side." 
 
 " I don 't count," said True, sweetly. " But let me 
 have my invitation, please ! I sha'n't come if you 
 don't." 
 
 " Well you may as well have it, for the date and the
 
 The Story of Eden 75 
 
 meeting place. Go on, True how lazy you are ! 
 Polly Harbord and Mr. Tullock. We are going to put 
 him up, he can't get back to Simon's Town the same 
 night, and the Cunninghams, and the Drysdales. 
 There, be quick ! " 
 
 "Does Miss Cunningham cycle?" asked True, very 
 busy with the addresses. 
 
 " Yes, but not well enough to ride a long distance, and 
 besides she has n't a machine. I expect they will ride." 
 
 "She has been riding with you lately, hasn't she?" 
 
 " Not now," said Starling, dryly. " She has found 
 some one else to ride with, I think." 
 
 True bit the penholder thoughtfully, and looked at 
 the pile of letters. " Are n't you going to ride together 
 any more ? " he said. 
 
 Starling could not be said to be bad-tempered, but 
 she was occasionally testy. "That depends a good 
 deal on our mutual convenience, I should think," she 
 said. When she was annoyed, the little lisp in her 
 voice became intensified. 
 
 True dipped the pen in the ink. " It might be kind 
 to ride with her as she is a stranger in a strange 
 land," he said tentatively. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to offer yourself as escort. 
 If you don't some one else will ! " said Starling, tossing 
 over a loose sheet. " There 's another envelope to ad- 
 dress Major Vibart's." 
 
 "The Tracker doesn't cycle!" said True, with a 
 sigh. 
 
 " Look here," said Starling, with a sudden effort, " I 
 can ask Mrs. Cromo Dame." 
 
 True's eyes met hers and flashed something unde- 
 cipherable. The code of signals was not confined to 
 sounds or movements. " Your mother does not like 
 her," he remarked. 
 
 " Neither do I but Major Vibart does." 
 
 " She looks very well in her riding habit," said True,
 
 76 The Story of Eden 
 
 " She is a work of art in any costume," said Starling. 
 " The only ' bon mot ' of Mr. Forrester's that I ever 
 treasured was when he said he could not at first remem- 
 ber her double name, but he always called her Mrs. 
 Hand-painted Lady in his own mind." 
 
 " It was rather a neat paraphrase," True acknow- 
 ledged. " I don't think she is a bad sort, you know. 
 She was very kind when the Drysdale kids had the 
 hooping-cough. She was always sending fruit down to 
 them." 
 
 " The crumbs from the rich man's table," said Star- 
 ling, with a sniff. " I hope the Drysdales like charity. 
 However, I will ask her, and she will come. She looks 
 particularly well by moonlight ; the moon is generous, 
 and almost as kind to passee women as pink-shaded 
 lamps." 
 
 "Then I shall cycle," was all True said, irrelevantly. 
 
 Starling cycled ; but she knew that True had hovered 
 on the brink of sacrificing himself in his usual fashion, 
 and riding, in order to act as bodyguard to Madge, and 
 the relief in his voice rang sweetly in her ears. 
 
 Mrs. Johnnie Dodd had fixed her picnic for the night 
 of the full moon, probably the last moon of the sum- 
 mer weather. She palpitated with anxiety all that day, 
 for a South- Easter had arisen, and the world was an evil 
 combination of discomfort and red dust. " If it blows 
 like this it will be perfectly impossible to cycle," she 
 said to Starling twenty times at least, and bemoaned 
 her fate that such a wind should have cursed her in 
 March. " I really thought I could calculate that the 
 last of them had gone down with the February drought," 
 she said. " Why, we have even had a little rain, 
 enough to make the roads good, and almost autumn 
 weather up till now." 
 
 "Never mind," returned Starling, dimpling over a 
 pyramid of sandwiches. " If we can't cycle, we will 
 ride or drive. No one will care, so long as you let them
 
 77 
 
 eat their supper on the grass and play at chuck-half- 
 penny afterwards ! " 
 
 Poor Mrs. Johnnie sighed, and ordered marzipan and 
 venison patties despondently. With the sunset, how- 
 ever, the wind fell, and her spirits rose. Mrs. Johnnie's 
 own face was something like the full moon, and when the 
 clouds did not obscure it, it beamed with a mild and radi- 
 ant light. The hampers were packed into the Cape carts, 
 and Mrs. Johnnie took her place alongside, as the clock 
 pointed to ten minutes to eight. Mr. Johnnie and 
 Starling had gone on before, a large black blot and a 
 small black blot upon the moonlight, skimming on in- 
 visible wheels a foot or so above the sleepy red earth. 
 Mr. Johnnie's machine had been built for him ; it was 
 necessary to mount his seventeen stone on a weight- 
 carrier, but he rode up and down hill valiantly, with the 
 dim hope of some day acquiring a lighter machine. 
 
 The party assembled at the entrance of Main's 
 Avenue from the high road, blocking the traffic and 
 drawing a native audience to stand and stare ; truly it 
 was an awe-inspiring calvacade : a dozen cycles, six 
 saddle horses, two Cape carts, six hampers, and Mrs. 
 Johnnie. When the Cunninghams arrived on the scene, 
 all the party had assembled save three, the Drysdales 
 and Beaumont Livingston, and as soon as these lag- 
 gards appeared, it started. 
 
 " You had better let me go in front with the pro- 
 visions," said Mrs. Johnnie from the cart. " That will 
 give me time to see that the farm people set the tables 
 properly. Why, Mrs. Drysdale, I thought you were 
 going to cycle ! " 
 
 " I never ride a dead horse when I can have a live 
 one," Clarice Drysdale's voice rang cheerily in the 
 black shadow of the firs. The bugles announcing rein- 
 forcements to the rescue would never sound sweeter in 
 Truman's ears than did her well-known tones. If ever 
 his big eyes expressed anything, they expressed grati-
 
 78 The Story of Eden 
 
 tude then. She also had thought beforehand of the 
 probable disposition of the party. " You are of one 
 mind with me, I see, Madge. Ah, Professor, so you 
 really have been tempted from your beetles? Are 
 you going to ride with me? How d'ye do, Mrs. 
 Cromo Dame, saw you in the village this morning, 
 but you didn't see me." 
 
 " Really ? Where was that ? " 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale did not answer; she was chatting 
 gaily with the Professor, who looked anything but the 
 accepted type of a man of science. His horse and 
 himself were irreproachable, and he was pleasantly con- 
 scious of being the best dressed man present, except 
 perhaps Major Vibart. This knowledge made him 
 passingly gracious, even to his sister, whom he advised 
 to look out for mole-holes when they came to the Flats, 
 and then handed her over to Oswald Drysdale's com- 
 panionship. Madge had turned to look at the woman 
 to whom Mrs. Drysdale had spoken. She had never 
 met Mrs. Cromo Dame before, and her glance was 
 inclusive. The lady represented, in profile, a sug- 
 gested double chin and a developed bust. As the 
 cavalcade strung itself out across the tram-lines and 
 down towards Kenilworth, she passed Madge, laughing 
 and talking with Vibart, and displayed herself as a 
 woman with rippled red hair and a too white skin, 
 a woman of velvet flesh and art colouring, impossible 
 to believe in, but not impossible to admire, as one 
 admires the painted flowers on a deep pile carpet. 
 
 "She is well over thirty, and I have seen many 
 duplicates of her in town," thought Madge. "In the 
 Park, in Regent Street, shopping in Piccadilly, always 
 fat, and made up, and yes lovely to look at if one 
 doesn't go too close. Does he admire that sort of 
 thing, I wonder? I suppose that is why they call him 
 fast, because he talks to her, and she paints, and I 
 daresay she is clever. I don't see why he should n't
 
 The Story of Eden 79 
 
 talk to her if he likes. She is probably far more enter- 
 taining to a man of the world than any one else here. 
 Oh, dear, and I thought I was going to enjoy to-night 
 so much, and now I am afraid I am not ! " 
 
 " I wonder what she is thinking about to make her 
 so silent ? " cogitated Drysdale. " Shall we ride on a 
 little faster, Miss Cunningham?" he said. "We shall 
 get a nice smooth bit for a canter in a minute." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Margery, rousing herself. " Yes, let us." 
 
 There is nothing so awake as an African night. All 
 day the earth drowses in the sunshine ; but when the light 
 dies, she wakes up, and whispers to herself all through 
 the darkness. As the hoofs flew over the soft, sandy 
 roads, the wind made little noises in the branches of 
 the trees, which muttered together, "We know, we 
 know," in answer ; and when the party broke out into 
 the wide, waving grass-lands, the sound of their going 
 could^ hardly overpower, even to themselves, the thrill 
 of life innumerable on the Flats. At the end of half 
 a mile, Madge drew rein ; the rest of the party were 
 somewhat scattered, near and far, about the intermin- 
 able silver sweep of the grasses, intersected by the level 
 roads on which the cyclists looked like flies in the 
 distance. 
 
 " Let us walk a little now," she said. " I want to 
 look about me ; it is all so beautiful." 
 
 " Yes, I always think the night is the best time to 
 see the country. In the day one wants to sit under 
 one's own vine and fig-tree and bask. Hear the 
 crickets? " 
 
 The air was full of their busy voices, like the whirr 
 of a vast fairy machinery. Every now and then some- 
 thing would rustle, whether overhead or underfoot 
 Madge could not tell, but the whole empty night, the 
 straight, level grass of the Flats, only swelling a little 
 up and down in black and silver heights and hollows 
 to the mountain range, and the solitude of the infinite
 
 8o The Story of Eden 
 
 sky, seemed thrilling with their own spirit and mystery. 
 They rode in comparative silence, with disjointed con- 
 versation now and then to mark their sociability, until 
 a lonely belt of dark trees became visible in a curve of 
 hollow ground to their right, and, " That is the farm ! " 
 Drysdale said. 
 
 The bustle and life, and the laughing and talking 
 under the trees seemed an incongruous contrast to the 
 silent silver night beyond, when Madge rode into the 
 party again. Two long tables were set up in the plan- 
 tation behind the farm, with wooden forms to seat the 
 guests after the manner of a school-feast. The moon 
 shone broadly down upon the white cloth and the 
 Dodds' glass and silver, while the generous load of 
 provisions would have victualled a small army. 
 
 " I shall steal the supper soon, if we don't sit down," 
 remarked Livingston, genially. " Mrs. Johnnie, I think 
 you would like me to carve. Miss Cunningham, you 
 would like to sit beside me, I know. Are we all here? 
 What are we waiting for, you and I ? " 
 
 " All except Vibart and Mrs. Cromo Dame," said 
 Forrester. "Shall we wait for them, Mrs. Johnnie? 
 Or " he lowered his voice and spoke to Livingston 
 " shall we do as her husband is reported to have 
 done at the marriage ceremony, and begin without 
 her? They say it was hardly legal." 
 
 " Well," returned Livingston, in the same tone, " if 
 she were not worth waiting for then, she certainly is 
 not now. Jack will have to take care of her, and she 
 will have to take care of herself." He turned to 
 Margery suddenly, "The moon has not stolen your 
 appetite, has it, Miss Cunningham ? " 
 
 "Is the moon a universal thief?" said Margery, 
 gaily, as she took her place. At least she would not 
 notice the absentees, she thought ; when they did arrive, 
 she would be fathoms deep in her supper and Living- 
 ston's conversation.
 
 The Story of Eden 81 
 
 " She has not stolen the colour of your eyes, at any 
 rate," he said, with the assumed courtesy of an old 
 man towards a child. " Now what shall I have for 
 supper? What do you think would amuse me?" 
 
 " I am too concerned with my own to think of yours 
 as yet. Is that caviare ? I love caviare ! " 
 
 " Dissipated little girl, what a vitiated taste ! Sup- 
 pose I begin with caviare too ? It gives one an appe- 
 tite, I have heard. What will you drink? Champagne, 
 of course. Pass the champagne, Pete. There is quite 
 a slump in fizz down this end of the table." 
 
 "Are you going to have some too, Mr. Livingston? 
 I wish you would n't eat and drink exactly what I do. 
 You have followed me throughout, and it begins to 
 make me quite nervous." 
 
 " I am a little doubtful of Johnnie's food, and I 
 would rather you were poisoned than I, if some one 
 must go. Besides which it entertains me to see what 
 you eat, and to risk it for once. Everything you have 
 chosen as yet has been entirely unfortunate." 
 
 " You seem to be as easily entertained, as the man 
 who used to take off his wife's wedding-ring whenever 
 he wanted a little excitement. He must have had 
 such a very simple mind." 
 
 "Or an admirable memory I should say imagina- 
 tion. But what a very naughty little speech for you to 
 make ! Have some more champagne I feel that 
 you oughtn't to be encouraged. Ah, here are the 
 truants. My dear Vibart, we have finished most of the 
 pink food, which is always the best (have you ever 
 noticed that in a menu, Miss Cunningham?), but there 
 is still some white and brown left." 
 
 "We lost our way we did really," Vibart said, 
 joining good-humouredly in the laughter and chaff 
 which greeted him. Mrs. Cromo Dame did not laugh. 
 Her sharply-defined red lips smiled a little, and she 
 shot a glance down the table as she sat down and 
 6
 
 82 The Story of Eden 
 
 said, " Turkey, please ! " to Mr. Johnnie's solicitous 
 appeal. 
 
 " What a disreputable-looking woman she would be 
 if she were not so smart in her clothes ! " Polly Har- 
 bord remarked quietly to Starling. Polly's keen, 
 sleepy eyes had taken in every line of Mrs. Cromo 
 Dame as she sat down, and were still fixed musingly 
 upon her, "She bears the stamp of her type too 
 plainly upon her." 
 
 "Yes," said Starling, briefly. It was one of her 
 peculiarities that she rarely discussed people she did 
 not like, not entirely from charity, but partly because 
 she did not care to let her thoughts dwell upon them 
 at all. 
 
 " Did you hear the last story about her? " 
 
 " No. Take care ! Captain Truman will catch 
 what you say ! " 
 
 " No, he won't, he is too busy lighting his cigarette. 
 You know Cromo Dame went shooting a week ago, and 
 was not to return until Monday morning. Well, he 
 turned up unexpectedly on the Sunday night, and his 
 wife had got a supper-party consisting of one. As it 
 happened Cromo Dame met the supper-party on the 
 doorstep, just going in, and the Tracker said " 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " Well, you must have known who it was ! He ts 
 clever; he had just three seconds to collect himself. 
 He said, ' My dear fellow, I saw your cart at the 
 station, and I guessed you had come back. I just 
 came round to see how you had fared. Did you have 
 good sport ? ' Cromo Dame, who is either very deep 
 or very unsuspicious, asked him to supper. So the 
 preparations were not entirely wasted after all. But 
 don't you think the Tracker deserves to get on?" 
 
 " I hope he will never get what he deserves. At 
 least I have that much charity. But, Polly, how do 
 you know these things?"
 
 The Story of Eden 83 
 
 " Oh, Blanche Cromo Dame absolutely told me her- 
 self. You know she is very outspoken. How smart 
 the Professor looks ! He is an unusual sort of man. 
 I was so surprised to see him here to-night." 
 
 "We had several surprises. How complicated 
 everything seems just now ! I am constantly expect- 
 ing something to happen. Only the safeguard of our 
 life out here is that none of us stay long enough for 
 things to reach a crisis." 
 
 " It is the wives and husbands who are complicated," 
 said Polly, with a little laugh, as she rose from the sup- 
 per-table. " Mr. Forrester says he finds it almost as 
 difficult to sort them properly now as they seem to find 
 it themselves. Are we going to play games? Do 
 let's have Blindman's Buff, or Hunt the Slipper, or 
 something really silly, Starling ! I like to laugh one 
 day in seven, and Mrs. Wrighton has sighed and 
 groaned all this afternoon." 
 
 " Poor Polly ! I am afraid Blindman's Buff won't 
 do, though. Edith Hofman fell down last time and 
 twisted her ankle by tripping over the root of a tree. 
 We can play Tags, if you like." 
 
 Tags was a new game to Margery, as was also the 
 spectacle of twenty grown-up people rushing to and 
 fro with far more zest than a party of children, waking 
 the quiet night with their voices and laughter, and 
 charging into each other's arms to avoid being caught 
 by the pursuer as they were chased from one tag to 
 another. A tag, she discovered, consisted of two 
 people, a girl standing in front of a man who generally 
 placed his hands on her waist to steady her. She 
 found herself in this position, one of eight couples, 
 with Clive Forrester behind her ; Oswald Drysdale was 
 the pursuer, or " Devil," and Polly Harbord, " Odd 
 Man Out." It was Polly's business in starting the 
 game, to try and reach one of the tags, which were 
 stationed at equal distances from her and from each
 
 84 The Story of Eden 
 
 other, before she was caught herself. If she could do 
 this, and station herself in front of the girl, the man 
 behind became " Odd Man Out," and had to run for 
 it in his turn. And so on and so forth, with more 
 noise and scuffling than at the ordinary school-feast. 
 More licence, too, for dignity vanished in the heat of 
 the game, and men forgot their manners if not their 
 preferences. Mrs. Johnnie did not play, but all the 
 other women did, in spite of riding-habits or other 
 drawbacks. It was nothing to Madge to rush across 
 a moonlit space of grass about twelve feet wide, for 
 she was young and light and active, and even her habit 
 could not impede her. She was difficult to catch, and 
 knew that she showed to advantage over Mrs. Cromo 
 Dame, who, with panting breast and hysterical laughter, 
 hurled herself into the men's arms, for she generally 
 seemed to chance upon those tags which had been 
 shifted so that it was not a girl who stood in front. It 
 was a relief to Madge to remember, when the fun was 
 at its loudest, that her brother had gone off to smoke 
 with Mr. Johnnie and talk " trade," before the game 
 began. She would have been afraid to run, and call 
 out warnings to others in danger, if Anthony had been 
 standing by, in sneering contemplation of antics about 
 which, as she well knew, he would express an unmodi- 
 fied opinion next day. As it was she laughed, and 
 ran, and made as much noise as any of them, when the 
 cry came, " Miss Cunningham, you 're out run ! " 
 and she saw the " Devil " dodging on the other side of 
 the tag. It was in a headlong rush from behind Beau- 
 mont Livingston and Polly Harbord that the pursuer 
 doubled and met her before she could reach another 
 tag. Madge gave a shriek of excitement, and turning 
 fell into the first pair of arms she saw. 
 
 " Take care, Lady ! " said True, catching her deftly, 
 and holding her as daintily as if she had been a but- 
 terfly, even while he smiled into her eyes. " Miss 
 Hofman, you are out."
 
 The Story of Eden 85 
 
 Edith Hofman fled from behind him, and Madge 
 stood still, panting. 
 
 " Oh, True, this is a dreadful game ! " she said laugh- 
 ing. " I am so glad it was you." 
 
 " I am glad too. I don't count. Stand steady, 
 there is going to be a rush, and two people think they 
 are < Odd Man Out.' " 
 
 This indeed had happened, and the next three min- 
 utes were lively with the shrieking, flying figures of 
 pursued and pursuer. Madge stood her ground, know- 
 ing that she was within the rules, but during the scrim- 
 mage she was conscious that True had been swept away, 
 and a woman Polly Harbord, she thought had taken 
 his place behind her, which was of course all wrong. 
 Then Polly was shifted, and a man's hands seized her 
 waist again with a stronger grip than True's. 
 
 " Stand still, you are quite safe," said Vibart's 
 voice in her ear. It had the intoxicated sound of 
 laughter and high spirits and excitement, and Madge 
 shrank from it, frightened, and from his warm breath 
 on her neck. 
 
 "Major Vibart, is it you?" she tried to say. 
 " Don't " it was impossible to free herself of the 
 hands pressing her waist " Don't you think we have 
 played enough ? Every one is getting tired. I think 
 I shall stand out." 
 
 " They will stop in a minute there 's going to be a 
 rush. Forrester, that 's not fair," he shouted over 
 Madge's head, startling her afresh with the loud tones. 
 She had a horrible feeling that he had lost his head, 
 and anything might happen, and a resentful remem- 
 brance of his devotion to Mrs. Cromo Dame up till 
 now. She had meant to be dignified and indifferent if 
 she did come in contact with him, but the coming in 
 contact had not been quite so physical in her imagi- 
 nation, and it is difficult to be dignified over one's 
 shoulder to some one very much taller who must bend
 
 86 The Story of Eden 
 
 down to hear. There came a rush of the younger 
 men, who were romping together like young puppies, 
 and were equally out of control, and Vibart hastily put 
 his arms round the girl in front of him to protect her. 
 It was really necessary, for the horseplay threatened to 
 become too rough for safety, and one of the players 
 came rather heavily to the ground. Then the game 
 was over, and Margery extricated herself with a new 
 feeling of distaste. 
 
 " How detestable ! " she said to herself, as she and 
 Starling smoothed each other's ruffled plumes. " And 
 the worst of it was, I had to accept it and say nothing. 
 I wonder if any one saw, and what they thought ? Well, 
 I really could n't help it, and to do him justice I don't 
 think he could either. If only it had been True ! I 
 won't ride home with him whatever happens. I don't 
 suppose he wants to, but anyhow I 'm not going to be 
 treated like that neglected all the evening, and then 
 suddenly taken liberties with because the man gets ex- 
 cited over a game. Thank goodness, I have arranged to 
 spend to-morrow with Mrs. Drysdale, and I sha'n't have 
 to see him, even though he should chance to call." 
 
 " We can't have another game, it is getting too late," 
 Starling said, as she tucked in a little wisp of Madge's 
 hair. " The hampers are being packed up now. Is n't 
 it a nuisance, True's cycle has punctured, and he can't 
 ride home ! He will have to drive in one of the carts 
 I suppose." 
 
 Madge moved away, wondering if it would not be 
 safer for her to drive too, and if she could pretend that 
 her pony had fallen lame to effect that end. She was 
 horribly afraid of Vibart's society. 
 
 As she mounted, and walked her pony slowly out of 
 the farm enclosure, Mrs. Johnnie and the carts passed 
 her. To Madge's dismay she saw that Drysdale was 
 driving, and he turned and called something to her of 
 which all she caught was, "Sorry to desert you 
 another escort."
 
 The Story of Eden 87 
 
 "Then we are uneven numbers," thought Madge, 
 she had forgotten all about Truman and his punctured 
 bicycle, " and I must either ride with Anthony and 
 Mrs. Drysdale, which he won't like, or go with the 
 cyclists. Of course the other couple who are on 
 horseback are out of the question." 
 
 As she quickened her pace, Starling passed her, rid- 
 ing with Livingston. Madge did not stop to consider 
 that here was another change of escort ; she put her 
 horse into a trot, with some idea of catching them up 
 and asking leave to join them. The sound of hoofs 
 behind her only made her the more anxious ; without 
 turning to look who it was she changed from a trot to 
 a canter and raced as hard as she dared, with her slight 
 knowledge of riding, until the other horse overtook 
 her in spite of her efforts to escape. 
 
 "What are you doing?" said True, breathlessly. 
 " You are following the road, and that will take you 
 ever so far round ! I 've been trying to catch you for 
 five minutes." 
 
 " I was going to join Starling," said Margery, with 
 intense relief. " I did not know you were riding. I 
 went off by myself in a pet, you see, thinking I was 
 deserted." 
 
 " You might have known I should n't desert you, Lady. 
 Shall we have a canter? This is a nice level bit." 
 
 On the whole, Margery enjoyed the ride home 
 even more than the ride out. It was a real relief to 
 her to have True with her, and she possessed the happy 
 faculty of putting a past disagreeable out of her mind 
 to enjoy a present pleasure. Whether it would be the 
 same with a great grief she had not yet had occasion 
 to try ; but the little pin-prick of Vibart's devotion to 
 Mrs. Cromo Dame, and her revulsion of feeling with 
 regard to him, were not sufficient to mar her enjoyment 
 of the long canter over the moonlit grass, and True's 
 congenial companionship. Margery liked True; he
 
 88 The Story of Eden 
 
 was not brilliant in conversation, or subtle, as Vibart 
 could be at times ; his air of devotion was entirely on 
 the surface, but really genuine where he placed his 
 friendship. He never said unkind things, and he 
 never offended a woman on the plea of being a man. 
 That much she had discovered already. As she went 
 to bed that night she summed up her evening's experi- 
 ences with great candour in her own mind. 
 
 " Major Vibart is a flirt I have been told so often, 
 and it is quite true. He has been riding with me for 
 a week or two now, and making me believe that 
 well, that he liked me very much, and would rather 
 talk to me than to other people. To-night he has 
 looked at and spoken to no one but that woman with 
 the red hair and the figure except once, and then I 
 wish he had n't. It was horrid ! " (At this point she 
 plunged her face and arms into cold water, as if to wash 
 away a remembrance.) " It is all my own silly fault that 
 I felt humiliated, because my vanity led me into believ- 
 ing that he really meant the things he hinted. He 
 was too clever to say them absolutely, I see that now. 
 For the future, I won't think anything of what he says, 
 I will only laugh. And I won't talk to him more than 
 to other people, or look upon him as anything in partic- 
 ular. How lovely the mere riding in the moonlight 
 was ! I enjoyed it with my body, and brain, and soul. 
 I shall never forget those great waving Flats; I felt 
 somehow as if I were growing, as if I had found some- 
 thing larger than my own life, and wanted to expand to 
 it, I wonder if any one else felt so too. It 's rather 
 lonely to have those feelings all to myself, with no one 
 to sympathise and understand. What a nice little 
 fellow True is, and how he does flirt with his eyes ! 
 He never makes me uneasy though, as some of the 
 other men do, Mr. Livingston, for instance. He is 
 very amusing, and he makes me feel as if I were effer- 
 vescing somehow. I seem all fizz and froth and talk-
 
 The Story of Eden 89 
 
 ing nonsense very fast when I am with him. Nothing 
 matters, because nothing is real." (Here she took 
 down her hair, and buried her face in its soft thick 
 folds.) " But sometimes he says something, quite 
 lightly, that might mean a great deal, terrible things 
 that I am afraid to understand, and at which we both 
 laugh as if we were talking nonsense still. I wonder 
 I think I will talk a good deal to Mr. Livingston. He 
 makes me feel as if I had been exercising my brain, 
 and were getting quite skilful at chattering." (Here 
 a little white foot slipped out of a velvet slipper, and 
 Madge stood, frilled and snowy, beside the bed for a 
 moment, before she scrambled in.) " He is Jack 
 Vibart's friend too and they seem to think a great 
 deal of each other. I believe I could attract Mr. 
 Livingston as well as an older woman." (She got 
 into bed, and cuddled down among the pillows.) 
 " There, I 'm only wanting to do it to make Major 
 Vibart think more of me, and revenge myself on him. 
 I have come right round to the point I started from, 
 and that I meant to forget. I will go to sleep, and 
 think no more about him, and not be silly."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 " Where the apple reddens 
 
 Never pry 
 Lest we lose our Edens, 
 Eve and I." 
 
 THEY boast at Newlands that they have the prettiest 
 cricket ground in the British Empire. I like Dover as 
 well, myself (I mean the old School ground, which is too 
 small, for the ball is always going beyond the boundary, 
 but that does not affect its picturesqueness) ; but I 
 admit that the Newlands ground has the advantage of 
 a unique setting. A blue line of mountains looks in on 
 you over the fir-tree belt, and the prospect from the 
 Stand it is something larger than a view gives 
 you a chance to lose yourself in open air and incalcu- 
 able distance. The Saturday matches are very much 
 to the neighbourhood what the Corner is on Sunday to 
 those who dwell within measurable distance of Hyde 
 Park, and the string of carts and carriages behind the 
 spectators is a settled institution. 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale generally called for Madge about 
 three, and drove her down. " It is a pity not to go, 
 for the season will soon be over," she said. " Ossy 
 will turn up later, but I want to get down there in time 
 for a good place, and to see something of the play. I 
 am one of the few women who really watch the game. 
 The majority don't do more than ask what the score is 
 at intervals, and applaud in the wrong place." 
 
 She appeared on the Saturday following Mrs. Johnnie's 
 picnic, and carried Madge off in triumph, despite the 
 agreeable prophecies of the Professor, who came out onto 
 the stoep to suggest sunstroke, mosquitoes, heat apo- 
 plexy, and their being the only people on the ground.
 
 The Story of Eden 91 
 
 "Your brother, my dear," said Mrs. Drysdale, as 
 they drove away, "is as wholesome as a tonic. He 
 leaves a taste on my tongue like quinine, which I am 
 sure is very good for us." 
 
 " I wish his conversation had the same effect when 
 taken in large quantities, and made me deaf, " re- 
 marked Madge, dryly. " He has discovered a new 
 specimen of Scarabee, and it makes him particularly 
 sociable. He kept awake to talk to me yesterday 
 evening after dinner. When I had swallowed as much 
 quinine as I thought good for me, I retired in good 
 order and went to bed." 
 
 "He always puts me in mind of those charming 
 people in the Bible who announced themselves as 
 prophets whenever they wanted to say nasty things. 
 My sympathies are entirely with the much-abused 
 Kings ; they had to sit still and listen whenever an old 
 gentleman arrived with a parchment, and proceeded to 
 insult them in the name of the Deity. I am sure the 
 Deity would never have been so discourteous, but the 
 Kings seem to have been easily persuaded, and hardly 
 dared to murder one Prophet in ten." 
 
 " Poor things ! and to annihilate people who cheer- 
 fully prognosticate evil seems such a natural outlet for 
 one's feelings. Even proving them in the wrong is 
 hardly a satisfactory substitute. I could have attended 
 Anthony's funeral with a certain degree of pleasure on 
 several occasions." 
 
 " We are about to prove him in the wrong anyway. 
 The ground is crowded even now. I hope we shall get 
 our usual place I feel personally injured if any one 
 else is third from the end of the carriage line. All 
 right, Keeper, I have the passes. Now, Bob, don't shy 
 at the band ! Leaf, you had better go to his head." 
 
 The black boy dropped out of the back of the cart, 
 and led Bob down the row to his usual station. Either 
 an unusual paucity of other attractions, or a fear that
 
 gi The Story of Eden 
 
 this might be the last fine cricket Saturday of the sum- 
 mer, had drawn an unusual concourse. The Stand was 
 full, the benches were full, the traps were filing in two 
 deep, and a moving mass of people was blocking the 
 space between the carriages and the refreshment-table. 
 Madge gave a sigh of pleasure as the Duke's band 
 struck up the " Gondoliers." 
 
 " I like a full meeting, don't you? " she said. " And 
 everybody we know seems to be here. Who will you 
 go to tea with, Mrs. Drysdale ? " 
 
 " Major Yeats, if I can get hold of him. You don't 
 know him, do you? He belongs to the Gunners. 
 There he is talking to Teddy Barton." 
 
 " That big man with the eyeglass ? He looks as if 
 Du Maurier had drawn him ! Oh, there 's True and 
 Mr. Livingston and the Hearns and everybody ! " 
 
 " Don't fall out of the cart with excitement, my 
 dear, or the wrong man might pick you up. How are 
 you, Beau? What is the score, and how is the game 
 going? ' 
 
 " I decline to tell you. You do not care a jot for 
 the game in reality, and only assume that air of sport- 
 ing interest for Yeats' benefit, because you know him to 
 be a cricketer. I shall tell Mrs. Naseby, who will tell 
 Forrester, who will tell it with 'entirely new scenery 
 and dresses,' to Mrs. Cromo Dame, who will appear 
 as chief witness for the plaintiff in the Divorce Court. 
 Yeats, my dear fellow, Mrs. Drysdale is posing for your 
 benefit. Come and tell her it is no use." 
 
 The man addressed put his hand on the splash- 
 board of the cart, and began to talk, which left Living- 
 ston free to walk round to the other side and 
 Margery. 
 
 " So you have really got here in spite of the Pro- 
 fessor," he said, taking her hand. " I met him yester- 
 day, and he told me you were going about far too 
 much, and thought of nothing but young men and
 
 The Story of Eden 93 
 
 the curling tongs, and he was going to put a stop to 
 it. It was quite a surprise to see you here. However, 
 you look very nice, and I am going to take you to 
 have some tea." 
 
 " Thank you ! Anthony did recommend me to stay 
 at home and try to learn a few domestic virtues ; but 
 he has not positively forbidden the young men and the 
 curling tongs as yet. Shall I get out of the cart ? " 
 
 " Yes, come along." He took her hands in a 
 stronger grasp than many a man years his junior, and 
 swung her lightly to the ground. "Like a bird," he 
 said approvingly. " Look at Mrs. Cromo Dame ! She 
 has got on a new gown, and is afraid lest any one 
 should miss it. She need not fear, need she there 
 is too much emphasis about her to escape notice. 
 She is a woman who is written in italics. Still, to ease 
 her mind, we will go and tell her that we have realised 
 her clothes it is only when she is in evening dress 
 that one is in danger of losing sight of them." 
 
 " Oh, no, please, Mr. Livingston," said Margery, 
 who had heard only the first part of his sentence, ana 
 recognised the man leaning on the Cromo Dame car- 
 riage door. " I don't know her." 
 
 " No, really ? You 're young you '11 learn. There 's 
 Jack Vibart strung upon her parasol point now. 
 Did n't I see you riding with him one day this week? " 
 
 " No," said Margery, thankful that she could say 
 so. " I have only ridden three times this week, and 
 that was with Starling." 
 
 " It must have been another time then," said Liv- 
 ingston, coolly. "Where are Mrs. Drysdale's boys 
 to-day? She really ought to bring them with her 
 sometimes. I must speak to her. There is hardly 
 another woman here who would not use such useful 
 appendages as an advertisement of her own domestic 
 virtues. Yet she persists in leaving them at home, 
 because she knows they are happier there, and 
 would n't enjoy this at all. Ridiculous, is n't it ! "
 
 94 The Story of Eden 
 
 " How devoted she is to those boys ! And yet for 
 some time after I first knew her I did not realise that 
 she had any children." 
 
 " Not even the baby ? I should have thought it 
 difficult not to realise the baby. But it must be seen 
 to be believed in." 
 
 " Yes, I have seen it. It was very good, and did n't 
 howl." 
 
 " It is a most respectable baby altogether," said 
 Livingston. " It is exactly like Oswald Drysdale." 
 
 " Well, children often do resemble their fathers, don't 
 they?" 
 
 " Exactly," he answered, with a curious flash of 
 amusement in his brilliant eyes. " It is one of the most 
 awkward laws of nature." 
 
 " If you think they would do better to resemble their 
 mothers, I entirely agree with you, as a general rule," 
 said Margery, innocently. " It seems to me that all the 
 pretty women marry ugly men." 
 
 " And vice versa ? But I fancy a fair percentage of 
 women would be glad to subscribe to a new law that 
 should entail their children only resembling them, 
 whatever the other parent might boast in the way of 
 good looks." 
 
 But Margery had fortunately turned to True. 
 
 "Where were you yesterday afternoon, True?" she 
 was saying. " I went to Friedenhof, and we quite ex- 
 pected you." 
 
 " I had to pay a call at Simon's Town. I am so 
 sorry. I would have dropped in on my way back if I 
 had only known." 
 
 " I had to go home all alone and unprotected." 
 
 " Oh, Lady ! " True looked quite distressed. " Was n't 
 there any one else calling there? " 
 
 " Only a Captain Ransom, whom I don't know." 
 
 " The Brawler ! " 
 
 "Who?"
 
 The Story of Eden 95 
 
 " We call him the Brawler. We all have nicknames 
 in the Regiment, you know." 
 
 " Oh, what are the others? " 
 
 True hesitated. " Mr. Wright is Silence, and George 
 Tennyson the Bard, because of his name, not his 
 tendencies," he said in his soft, quick voice. When 
 True saw a difficulty ahead he spoke more softly and 
 quickly than usual. " And Scott Murray, our Adjutant, 
 is Hard Lines, and Mr. Forrester is Pete, and Mr. Cay- 
 ley, V. C. They mostly come from some ridiculous 
 incident connected with the men." 
 
 " Mr. Cayley's name came from his initials, did n't 
 it? I have never met him, though I have often heard 
 of him. Do you ever nickname the senior officers? " 
 
 " Sometimes. Won't you have some more tea ? " 
 
 " No thanks. What do you call Major Vibart? " 
 
 A pause. 
 
 " The Tracker ! " 
 
 " What an odd name ! Why ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said True, lying as serenely as he 
 smiled. " Are you going to the Beatrice dance, 
 Lady?" 
 
 " Yes, unless something dreadful happens to prevent 
 me. Mr. Livingston and Mrs. Drysdale have contrived 
 it for me between them. I am shaking in my shoes for 
 fear something shall happen even now." 
 
 "Will you give me some dances?" 
 
 " Of course I will." 
 
 " Well, let 's book them. Look here, I'll write it on 
 my cuff. Can you give me the first? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And shall we say five, and ten, and fourteen? I 
 sha'n't put it any later, because I find my partners have 
 to leave to catch trains at Simon's Town." 
 
 " But that 's four dances." 
 
 " Yes, is it too many ? " 
 
 "Oh, I don't mind, if you don't! I hope I shall 
 remember. One, and seven, and ten, and fourteen 1 "
 
 96 The Story of Eden 
 
 "How are you, Miss Cunningham? What on earth 
 are you doing, Truman? " said a voice, while True was 
 still scribbling busily. It was Captain Barton, Teddy 
 Barton, with whom Madge had seen Vibart riding. She 
 glanced round her in instinctive apprehension, but she 
 only found Livingston returning to her side. 
 
 " I was booking my dances with Miss Cunningham 
 for the Beatrice affair," said True, with intention. 
 
 " Well, I do call that crafty of you to slip in before 
 us all like that ! Miss Cunningham, give me a dance 
 too, will you? " 
 
 Margery rather liked Captain Barton. He was a 
 shifty, good-looking Irishman, whose manners were as 
 carefully chosen and as suitable as his clothes; he 
 changed them too, much in the same way. She gave 
 him the two dances he asked for, and then fell into 
 Livingston's hands. 
 
 " You haven't asked me to dance with you yet/' he 
 said airily. " I suppose you thought I should be too full 
 up, eh? Well, I must see what dances I can give you." 
 
 " You are such a confusing person, because you al- 
 ways do things backwards," said Margery, laughing. 
 " Besides, I did n't know that you were going to Simon's 
 Town at all. Do you dance ? " 
 
 " No, I sit out, and it 's much worse." 
 
 Something had caught Margery's attention, only a 
 little opening in the crowd, and a big figure, still some 
 distance away, coming through it in her direction. 
 She gave her empty cup to True, and turned to Living- 
 ston. " Let us go back to Mrs. Drysdale, and arrange 
 our sitting-out dances there," she said. He followed 
 her through the stream of people still pushing their way 
 tea-wards, and together they strolled back slowly to the 
 cart, through the sunshine and the fir-tree stems, fling- 
 ing salutations about them as they went. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Forrester. Good game, eh ? We 've 
 been following it with the deepest interest, He does n't
 
 The Story of Eden 97 
 
 believe us, Miss Cunningham. What a low, suspicious 
 mind he must have 1 " 
 
 Margery's smile was a little strained ; she was face to 
 face with another acquaintance. " How do you do, 
 Major Vibart? " she said, and walked on with a care- 
 less little bow. (" Let him go back and hang on her 
 carriage door, if he likes ! I wonder he tore himself 
 away. Perhaps she sent him to get her some tea. She 
 would be afraid of the heat of the crowd herself, it 
 would melt the paint into streaks all down her face, I 
 should think.") 
 
 Vibart did not have tea, or take Mrs. Cromo Dame any, 
 as it happened. He met Teddy Barton, and went and 
 had a peg with him, and Teddy, who was suffering from 
 a recent impression, remarked that Miss Cunningham 
 was a very pretty girl, and she had given him two 
 dances for the Simon s Town affair next week. " A nice 
 fresh little girl like that has a good time out here," he 
 added. " She was filling her programme right and left. 
 She certainly won't be left on her chaperon's hands." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Vibart, thoughtfully. 
 
 He had seen Madge with Livingston, and been a 
 little piqued at her careless salutation, and obvious 
 preference for Beau's society ; she had, as he expressed 
 it to himself, " shelved him " for the past week, and he 
 supposed that it was a continuation of the shelving. 
 Until the Dodds' moonlight picnic they had ridden 
 together almost daily, and their " friendship " had 
 ripened rapidly in the sunshine. It had indeed 
 stopped short at a point where Vibart had realised 
 that it must begin a new stage ; Madge had realised 
 nothing, she had "just enjoyed" until Mrs. Cromo 
 Dame appeared upon the horizon, and became a prac.r 
 tical demonstration of the unreliability of Man. Madge 
 had disliked the momentary doubt of her own power 
 to charm very much indeed, and in order to reassure 
 herself had practised on the world * large, and dis/
 
 98 The Story of Eden 
 
 covered that there were other men in it beside Vibart. 
 She had nearly satisfied herself over the reassuring pro- 
 cess; if there were a pin-prick, it was still Vibart's 
 defection, but she concealed that as skilfully as an 
 older woman might, and hedged herself in from any 
 passing favours of his on those occasions when she had 
 since met him. Vibart pondered on these things, and 
 drew accurate conclusions ; but he saw them anew in 
 the light of other men's preference. He had no objec- 
 tion to making Madge jealous; even a girl so easily 
 managed was as balm to his vanity, and he regarded a 
 reconciliation and renewed influence as an easy task, if 
 he chose to take up the affair where he had put it down. 
 In the mean time Mrs. Cromo Dame was gracious, and 
 he did not hurry after Margery Cunningham ; it was 
 not often that the former lady and he paraded their 
 intimacy in public, but once in a while Blanche liked 
 to play at lion-tamer, and Vibart had found it wise to 
 indulge her. She knew how to amuse as well as attract 
 him, and he was content to dangle in her train ; but 
 while he dangled, other men found his empty place to 
 their liking, and it seemed that Margery was ready to 
 fill it, which put a new complexion on the matter. 
 Vibart was a sportsman ; he had the instincts of the 
 chase, and the game that was ready to fall to his gun 
 was less to be desired in his mind than that which cost 
 time and trouble to obtain, particularly if he came 
 into competition with another hunter. Margery's tac- 
 tics might be crude and obvious ; but they very much 
 enhanced her value in Vibart's eyes. His conclusions 
 were something like this : 
 
 " I wonder if she likes Barton? or Livingston ? Bar- 
 ton 's a fool, but he 's good-looking, and she 's too 
 young to be bored with him. Livingston is old enough 
 to be her father, but he 's got brains. It 's just because 
 she 's so fresh and ready to take anything that comes, 
 that she may really shelve me for them, in earnest. I
 
 The Story of Eden 99 
 
 should n't like that. She is pretty as Barton said. 
 He has never seen her in that pink bonnet thing, with 
 her face tempting you out of the frills at least I hope 
 he has n't. Confound it, I do hope he has n't ! I 
 wonder if she tries that sort of thing on every man ? I 
 suppose so. Well, she deserves what she gets. What 
 a fool I was not to kiss her then ! The third time 
 of seeing her to speak to ! Rather hot work, 
 but of course she meant me to. She almost held up 
 her face for it. She 's cold enough now, anyway. 
 Damn the girl ! I wish I did n't keep on thinking 
 of her." 
 
 Two days after the Cricket match, he called at Vine 
 Lodge, but Madge was out. She came in after some 
 ten minutes, and found him talking to the Professor ; 
 seemingly quite satisfied, she left them to their mutual 
 entertainment, and disappeared into the drawing-room, 
 where Vibart could hear her singing. As he was leav- 
 ing, she came out onto the stoep again to say good-bye, 
 and he contrived to speak to her alone. 
 
 " You never told me that you sang." 
 
 " Did n't I ? I don't profess to, in public. I should 
 be afraid before most people. What a lovely voice 
 Miss Dodd has, by the way, and how well she has been 
 trained ! " 
 
 " But you could sing to me. I wanted to come 
 into the drawing-room just now, only I thought 
 perhaps I should n't be welcome. You have kept me 
 at such a distance lately." 
 
 " I thought you were quite happy talking to Anthony. 
 He prefers to entertain those visitors for whom he has 
 any liking himself." 
 
 Vibart did not repeat the experiment. He foresaw 
 that he should be invariably turned over to the Pro- 
 fessor's tender mercies. He was genuinely fond of 
 music, and the discovery of Madge's accomplishment 
 in that line aggravated him still further, so that he
 
 ioo The Story of Eden 
 
 regretted the hitch in their intercourse all the more. 
 Margery did not trouble herself with regrets of any 
 kind. Her senses were chiefly on the surface at 
 present ; she was magnetic, ductile, responsive to a 
 stronger influence which left her quivering in the same 
 strain after the actual notes were struck, as a harp 
 vibrates after the player's hands have left the strings. 
 The vibration dies away, and the harp-strings are silent 
 until the same hand, or another, produces the same 
 result. Margery ceased to reflect Vibart when he was 
 no longer a daily influence, just as, in the first instance, 
 she had forgotten to ask Starling who he was, though 
 she had recognised his magnetic attraction for her 
 while their eyes met. Whenever she encountered 
 him, he troubled her vaguely for the moment, but she 
 was very busy enjoying herself, and her life was full 
 of delightful impressions, which she thought were 
 experiences. 
 
 " The down is not yet brushed from the butterfly's 
 wing," Livingston said to her on the night of the 
 Beatrice ball. The Beatrice was the flag-ship of those 
 days, and she was giving a dance in Simon's Town with 
 the aid of three sister ships, and all the available social 
 world of the Suburbs. With the exception of the Gov- 
 ernment House party, every one was there. Madge 
 met her own particular set on the Wynberg platform ; 
 she had driven down with the Dodds, and found Mr. 
 and Mrs. Drysdale awaiting her. The Professor, by the 
 mercy of Heaven, had a cold; otherwise it was not 
 impossible that he would have gone too, being, as Star- 
 ling said, " in the habit of doing undesirable things." He 
 did not dance, but he made free and fearless comments 
 upon the ethics of such amusements, and had almost 
 succeeded in presenting them in such a light to Mar- 
 gery that her soul yearned for a Convent or the Temple 
 gf Vesta. 
 
 * Am I the butterfly? " said Margery, in response tq
 
 The Story of Eden 101 
 
 Livingston's remark. They were all standing about in 
 groups on the platform, some untoward movement now 
 and then displacing the chrysalis-like wraps and over- 
 coats, and giving a hint of rainbow silks, the gleam of 
 a diamond stud, or the flash of scarlet and gold, for 
 the Duke's and the Wessex and the Gunners were 
 assembling in full force. " I think I am rather like 
 a butterfly, a white butterfly with gold spangles ! I 
 wonder if you will like my dress, Mr. Livingston ! " 
 
 " Why did n't you consult me about it ? I have 
 been expecting all along that you would. I hope your 
 shoes match. I am most particular about shoes and 
 fans and gloves matching." 
 
 " Yes, they all match. I suppose you would n't have 
 sat out with me, if they had n't? " 
 
 " I should promptly have sat on you. Freaks of 
 nature ought not to be allowed to go about except 
 in shows, and a girl with black feet, and a pink body, 
 and white gloves is like a cross-breed. Miss Harbord 
 wore a heliotrope frock and violet points to her last 
 dance. I could just bear that, but I did not like it." 
 
 "What are you two frivoling over?" said Clarice 
 Drysdale, joining them. " There is V. C., Beau, 
 have you spoken to him ? " 
 
 " By Jove, no ! I did n't know he had become a 
 Shulamite and 'returned.' He was out beyond Simon's 
 Town somewhere. What possesses the man to come 
 all up here, and then out again, when it was on his 
 way?" 
 
 " He dined with his own Mess and dressed there, 
 most likely. I don't suppose he had taken his things 
 out with him. Look at him, Madge ! What do you 
 think of him?" 
 
 " I can't see anything except an enormous overcoat 
 like they all wear, a very smart red-and-gold cap, and 
 a ragged moustache. He looks to me rather like 
 True."
 
 102 The Story of Eden 
 
 "He is not at all like True, though. He is the 
 most interesting man in the Duke's, and much more 
 attractive to women than Tracker Vibart, really. He 
 has intuition, Madge, and not one man in twenty has 
 that. He understands what you mean to say, through 
 what you do say. I will introduce him to you pre- 
 sently. But you won't appreciate V. C. for another ten 
 years or so." 
 
 " V. C. will make a very good general, some day," 
 said Livingston, " if his brain does not eat up his 
 fighting faculty. Here comes our train ! Now, Miss 
 Cunningham, don't rush in your excitement, or you 
 will charge into a carriage containing all your enemies, 
 and have to scowl in their company for the space of 
 one hour. A carefully selected train party is an essen- 
 tial of a dance at Simon's Town. Get in, Mrs. Drys- 
 dale, now, Miss Cunningham. No, don't sit beside 
 your chaperon, as if all men were ravening wolves, and 
 your sole hope lay in her. Come to this opposite seat 
 that gives three of us a chance, one each side of you 
 and a third in front. Now, who do we want? " (He 
 stood on the platform, outside the carriage door, and 
 placed his arm as a barrier to prevent any one getting 
 in whom he did not choose. Madge sat behind him, 
 laughing irrepressibly.) " Yeats, we must have you, 
 because Mrs. Drysdale is so fond of you. Ossy, you 
 will come too of course, to see that the fondness is 
 reciprocated as a good husband should. No man 
 likes to see his wife throw away her affection on 
 another man. We can take four each side in these 
 carriages. Miss Harbord, I want to observe the cut 
 of your new cloak, so we will admit you. That makes 
 five, myself six, Barton, don't push, my dear fellow, 
 you are not coming in here ! V. C., there is room for 
 you, and, Forrester, you may come to make up." 
 
 "This carriage seems to be like the Kingdom of 
 Heaven," said the last-named gentleman, gaily, "a 
 difficult place to get into ! "
 
 The Story of Eden 103 
 
 " At all events you are among the elect," retorted 
 Mrs. Drysdale, as he settled himself beside Madge. 
 
 "Did you see Mr. Johnnie trying to get into the 
 guard's van? " said Polly Harbord, beginning to laugh. 
 And when Polly began to laugh, every one else followed 
 suit, for the laughter kept on bubbling up between the 
 words, and proved irresistible. " He got confused 
 between the guard, who was a little man in a peaked 
 cap, and True, whom he thought he was following. 
 The last I saw of them was, that it looked like the 
 makings of a good fight, and Mr. Johnnie was punch- 
 ing him in the back and saying, ' I will come in ! I 
 will come in ! ' " 
 
 " Let 's ask him how he enjoyed his ride as a piece 
 of luggage," said Mrs. Drysdale. " I hope the guard 
 locked him up as a dangerous lunatic." 
 
 " Disgraceful ! " said Beau Livingston, in huge de- 
 light. " A man of his build and standing attacking a 
 poor little guard I " 
 
 " The beauty of it was that Mrs. Johnnie was trying 
 to call him back, and had to be forcibly restrained 
 from hurling herself out of the carriage, by True," 
 added Forrester. " I was just going to the rescue 
 when you called me, Livingston. ' Oh, John ! Oh, 
 John ! ' she kept saying, and a porter who was passing 
 tried to console her. ' All right, Mum the guard '11 
 settle 'im,' he said. * He ain't armed, is 'e ? I thought 
 as 'e looked like drink when 'e passed me just now. 
 Ought to know better at 'is age, but there, it 's an 
 'ot climate, and a long summer we Ve 'ad ! Can't be 
 too 'ard on 'im. I 've bin tempted myself at times ! ' " 
 
 There was a roar of delight from Livingston and 
 Oswald Drysdale and Yeats, and the chatter continued 
 more or less uproarious as the train swung backwards 
 and forwards round the curves all along the coast. 
 Madge looked out of the window past Forrester some- 
 times, and saw the black moving sea, and the gleam of
 
 104 The Story of Eden 
 
 ship's lights ; it was a fair dry night, and Simon's Town 
 felt degrees warmer than Wynberg, as indeed it is, 
 as they walked through the dockyard to the big store 
 buildings where the dance was held. 
 
 " We shall never find anything again, I know we 
 sha'n't ! " said Mrs. Drysdale, as she reluctantly relin- 
 quished her wraps in the cloak-room, and fought for 
 the privilege of changing her shoes. " Good-evening, 
 Mrs. Cromo Dame ! What a lovely night, is n't it? " 
 
 " Rather warm, don t you think ? April is an early 
 month \oi a dance." 
 
 " So she is here," thought Madge, giving a last 
 fond touch to her soft hair. " I am glad I am not 
 dependent on Major Vibart for dances ! I should cer- 
 tainly be a wall-flower. Ready ? Yes, quite ! " 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale pushed her way through the incoming 
 throng, and passed into the ball-room, Madge following. 
 Madge had never seen anything like that flag- draped 
 ball-room in her experience of provincial Cinderellas 
 at Home, and the lights and colours and uniforms got 
 into her head a little, particularly the uniforms. 
 
 " I did not know you were so nice ! " she said in- 
 genuously to Joey Tullock, a clean-faced naval lieuten- 
 ant who was bristling with gold lace. 
 
 " I always knew I was not appreciated ! " he re- 
 turned sadly, as he handed her back her programme. 
 " The tents outside are the best places for sitting out, 
 Miss Cunningham. I arranged them myself." 
 
 " Thanks for the hint," said Margery. " I will 
 remember. Oh ! " 
 
 Joey had turned deftly in half an inch of space, and 
 was wriggling his way through the crowd after the 
 adroit fashion possible to none but a Navy man. But 
 it was not his blue-and-golden person which had 
 drawn forth Madge's exclamation; she could have 
 bitten her tongue out the next instant for her tribute 
 to Vibart's good looks, but that she did not think any
 
 The Story of Eden 105 
 
 6ne heard her. Vibart in mufti was a very splendid 
 animal, and always well groomed. But Vibart in uni- 
 form was as near the ideal of the admirers of " Illus- 
 trated Bits," and Hal Ludlow's pictures therein, as it is 
 possible to come in real life. " A mighty proper man," 
 with his scarlet and gold, his clinking spurs, his whole 
 big form decked as for a Lord Mayor's Show, and his 
 quiet swagger. There was nothing aggressive about 
 Vibart save the unavoidable self-assertion of Nature's 
 triumph in making him. She had really done it ex- 
 ceedingly well, and Madge thought so. He always 
 influenced her when she came into personal contact with 
 him, and she was suddenly caught by the eyes again as 
 he advanced towards her. 
 
 " You will give me a dance, Miss Cunningham ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Major Vibart ! " 
 
 Neither voice was very steady, and both pairs of eyes 
 looked into each other with a half reluctant admira- 
 tion a realisation of something being inevitable now. 
 
 " The downward path is easy 
 But there 's no turning back." 
 
 Madge knew, in that moment while he scribbled his 
 name on her programme, with his handsome face 
 rather graver than usual, that the rest of the evening 
 was to be as a dream to her, but that Vibart alone 
 would stand out in lurid distinctness ; while Vibart was 
 pleasantly conscious of his own quickened pulses, and 
 of something that was almost fear in approaching 
 the small white ethereal thing before him. This was a 
 new feeling and slightly maddening ; it was also, prob- 
 ably, more genuine than his usual emotions. Madge's 
 programme was somewhat engaged already, he had to 
 place his name low down before handing it back to 
 her. 
 
 " I have taken two," he said, " I hope * 
 
 " Very well."
 
 io6 The Story of Eden 
 
 Then they parted, Madge to vainly try and enjoy 
 herself in her usual heartwhole fashion, but the mov- 
 ing panorama of flying feet and bright colours, with 
 its attendant music and chatter, yes, even her own 
 joy in the moment of the dance, were unreal and 
 shadowed with some presage of Fate. Vibart busied 
 himself with the other women with whom he wished 
 to dance, Mrs. Cromo Dame among the number, 
 and stood out occasionally and watched. Once he 
 came across Livingston, and they went and drank to- 
 gether at the refreshment-table which stood at one end 
 of the long dancing floor, while a raised dais for the 
 band filled the other. 
 
 " I am as dry as the Karroo in February," said Liv- 
 ingston. " Whisky and soda, waiter ! No whisky ? 
 Nonsense ! Go into Simon's Town and get some then. 
 What will you have, Jack ? " 
 
 " I '11 have a whisky too. Can you manage it, 
 waiter? " 
 
 " I daresay I can, sir 1 " 
 
 " What a barbarous custom it is to decree that we 
 shall dance on coffee and injurious sugar-drinks until 
 supper-time ! " said Livingston. " That is the worst 
 of admitting children to these entertainments. Why 
 can't they have a Christmas tree for the middies, and 
 let us have our dances properly whiskied, without fear 
 of contaminating their morals ? " 
 
 "Jolly little boys ! " said Vibart, good-naturedly. "I 
 wish our cubs were half as good stuff. We 've got a 
 Thing out of the nursery by the last boat, who can't 
 put on his uniform, and blushes every time Forrester 
 tells a tale at Mess. However, Truman informs me 
 that the Subs are making his life a Hell for him, so 
 perhaps he '11 improve." 
 
 " I would back Wright and Ames and Tennyson to 
 put a polish on most Tenderfoots certainly! Forres- 
 ter's yarns are rather stiff sometimes, Jack. He has a
 
 The Story of Eden 107 
 
 pretty wit, but he talks dirt like a minor poet ! There 's 
 Mrs. Cromo Dame dancing with him now. What mag- 
 nificent arms the woman has ! " 
 
 " She would strip well ! " said Vibart, carelessly, as 
 the waltz ended and the couples streamed past. " Are 
 you dancing the next, Livingston?" 
 
 " Not that I know of. Are you?" 
 
 " I believe so," Vibart answered, referring to the 
 card. " Oh yes ! " He slipped it back into his 
 pocket, and took up the whisky and soda with a steady 
 hand. Yet his heart was not quite steady when five 
 minutes later he met Madge at the door and told 
 her that it was his dance, and he waited in silence 
 while she shifted her hand from Joey Tullock's arm 
 to his own. 
 
 Madge had been secretly waiting for him ; she knew 
 in spite of herself when his dance was coming, and 
 shivered a little as he put his arm round her. 
 
 "This is the second time," she thought to herself, 
 her eyes resting vaguely on the silver Greyhound the 
 Duke's Greyhound on the lappet of his coat. " The 
 first time was when we played Tags. How silent he is ! 
 I wonder what he is thinking? That I don't dance as 
 well as the red-haired woman, I suppose ! what a very 
 broad chest ! how appallingly impressive uniform is 
 when you see it so near I wish I were farther off I 
 think I am going to be frightened, and it is so silly." 
 
 " This is the second time," thought Vibart, as she 
 settled herself into the hollow of his bended arm, and 
 pressed backwards for the swing, " but it won't be the 
 last." His hand never tightened on her waist, nor was 
 there anything to startle her ; only his muscles felt like 
 iron to the light weight of her body, and she was hap- 
 pily conscious of going like a bird. She was really 
 sorry when half-way through the dance he stopped, and 
 offered her his arm. 
 
 "Thank you!" he said. "Will you come and sit
 
 io8 The Story of Eden 
 
 out a little now? There are some seats outslcre-. -rf 
 you are not afraid of the open air?" 
 
 " I am not at all afraid, thank you ! (Then I don't 
 dance as well as she does ! )" Madge added to herself, 
 as they went out of the ball-room, across the landing 
 where a stray couple or so were sitting, and down the 
 wooden steps into the outside world and the velve* 
 night. There was a piece of waste ground round the 
 Store, and here Joey Tullock and his fellows had pitched 
 three or four small tents, and placed a few seats out- 
 side as well. Vibart chose a tent, and lifting the flap 
 ushered Madge into the dim light of that retreat. It was 
 all rather strange and silent, and she had a hysterical 
 desire to laugh in default of his lacking conversation. 
 
 "This is quite a cosy corner, is n't it?" she said, 
 seating herself in a low basket chair, and trembling 
 with the effort to speak naturally. There was red cloth 
 on the ground ; as she stretched out her feet in front 
 of her, she thought how unnaturally small her little 
 white slippers looked. 
 
 " Yes," said Vibart, sitting down beside her. There 
 came a pause, through which Madge heard the crickets 
 singing in the night, and Vibart took the fan lying 
 on her knee, and began opening and shutting it idly. 
 " Now tell me what I 've done ! " he said at last. 
 
 " Done ? Nothing that I know of ! " 
 
 " Yet you will not ride with me ! " 
 
 " I never said so." 
 
 " No, you sent me a polite little note to explain that 
 you had a horse of your own now, and wanted Kaffir 
 no longer, in which you also neatly explained that you 
 were riding with Miss Dodd that I was not wanted 
 was obvious ! " 
 
 " I am sorry if you took it in that way ; but I daresay 
 you managed to amuse yourself elsewhere." 
 
 " You did your best to drive me elsewhere any- 
 way ! You will hardly look at me or speak to me when
 
 The Story of Eden 109 
 
 I meet you, and if I call, you leave me to your brother 
 and run away ! I thought we were to be friends?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "But you think that is impossible between a man 
 and a woman?" 
 
 Margery felt as if the earth shook under her feet, and 
 made a rush for less dangerous ground. " If you think 
 I have been unfriendly," she said, with some difficulty, 
 " I can only say that I am very sorry." 
 
 "Will you seal our compact afresh? " 
 
 She thought of the sunlight on the blue plumbago 
 hedges, and her outstretched hand that he had kissed. 
 What was possible by day was not to be dared by 
 night. 
 
 " I do not acknowledge that I broke the compact ! " 
 she said hastily. " I only rode with Starling." 
 
 He did not answer, and she looked at him in appre- 
 hension. He was regarding her much as a large animal 
 might a small one which it wished to devour, but Mar- 
 gery did not see the similarity. She only felt that the 
 thin skin of their conversation was torn away that their 
 conventional aspect was worse than wasted. All the 
 light chatter and frivolity of the ball-room seemed sud- 
 denly a hideous mockery, all the careless enjoyment, the 
 irresponsible life of the neighbourhood, an insufficient 
 covering for brute Nature after all. Margery made an 
 ineffectual effort to rise, while her eyes were still held 
 fascinated by Vibart's long, uncontrolled gaze. 
 
 The night stood still to listen. 
 
 For one instant there was a dimly lit tent, two loung- 
 ing chairs telling their tale of the dance and its physical 
 weariness, and the relaxing of muscles in delicious re- 
 pose, two bright figures in scarlet and white leaning 
 a little towards each other, as if they saw something 
 beneath the visible, commonplace scene ; as that in- 
 stant passed, the man leaned down over the girl, the 
 size and weight of his figure obscuring her, and then 
 alas ! alas ! he had kissed her.
 
 no The Story of Eden 
 
 " No ! " Vibart said, as she struggled to get free. 
 " Not yet ! One moment more for God's sake, my 
 darling ! one moment." 
 
 Margery's experience had not yet held a man's voice 
 hoarsened with his own uncurbed feeling. She shrank 
 back quivering, awed by the realisation that she had 
 touched something outside her own capabilities. The 
 passion of the moment was real only in the man ; the 
 girl was swept off her mental balance, paralysed by a 
 stronger vitality, but she had nothing to give save fear. 
 
 As his lips left hers, Vibart gave an exclamation that 
 was like a suppressed cry. He was feeling too deeply 
 to be fluent, but indeed it never occurred to him to ask 
 for forgiveness. He lifted her to her feet in the same 
 strenuous silence, but even as they stood upright, face 
 to face, there came a sound of laughter and voices, and 
 a man's hand raised the flap of the tent. With one 
 movement Vibart had released Margery almost before 
 he had seized her, and offered her his arm. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Major!" the intruder was 
 Forrester with Miss Hofman. "All the tents seem 
 taken. We did think we had secured this one ! " 
 
 " You can have it, for we are just going back to the 
 dancers. Our neglected programmes reproach us ! " 
 said Vibart. After all he was equal to the occasion, 
 which in that first horrified moment she had feared he 
 would not be. It gave her a shock to hear the light- 
 ness of his tone after his recent passion, but as they 
 crossed the intervening space of outside night to the 
 big Storehouse, from whose doors and windows came a 
 streaming glare like a search-light, he drew the hand 
 on his arm closer to his side, and said something she 
 could not catch. It seemed to be a reference to their 
 second dance, which was yet to come, mingled with 
 undistinguishable tenderness some love- words that 
 made her heart beat faster again. The figure of Major 
 Yeats, lounging in the doorway of the ball-room, gave 
 her a positive sense of regained security.
 
 The Story of Eden in 
 
 " This is my dance, Miss Cunningham ! " he remarked 
 quizzically. 
 
 " Is it ? I am glad I came back in time ! " 
 
 " In time, forsooth ! It is half over ! " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! Let us dance the rest of it then, and lose 
 as little as possible ! " 
 
 She bowed to Vibart, and turned away, half deter- 
 mined to dance with him no more to-night. " I could 
 tear my frock and have to go to the cloak-room and 
 mend it," she thought. "Or get True to hide me 
 somewhere so that I could n't be found when the time 
 came. Anything would do. It is easy to get out of it. 
 Only I don't know that I want to quite ! I am 
 horribly frightened, and I did n't like it at all, but I do 
 want to see what he will do and say ! After all, lots of 
 girls have been kissed by married men, and it has n't 
 mattered. I daresay most of those here to-night would 
 think nothing of it. And I can always tell him not to. 
 Oh, I think I '11 dance with him, and just see ! " Mar- 
 gery was very like a child playing with electricity, who 
 does n't like the shock when it comes, but cannot re- 
 sist trying it just once more. 
 
 "Have you had any supper, Miss Cunningham?" 
 Yeats said kindly. He liked the bright- faced girl who 
 seemed as fresh as her white frock, and there was some- 
 thing almost fatherly in his manner as he piloted her to 
 the supper-table and attended to her wants. Margery 
 was almost too excited to eat, but she was a healthy 
 little mortal, and her supper did not come amiss to her. 
 She discovered that her vis-a-vis was True, who was 
 beaming at her from his seat next to Starling. Mar- 
 gery nodded back gaily, and the party was a merry 
 one. 
 
 "Try the thing in jelly to your left, Miss Cunning- 
 ham," said Yeats. " I always try the things in jelly at 
 a ball supper. Experience tells me that they at least 
 are fresh,"
 
 U2 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Mr. Livingston says that the pink food is always 
 the best ! " remarked Madge, as she prodded the dish 
 in question with a fork. " What is this made of, do 
 you suppose?" 
 
 " Oh, don't ask ! ' Where the apple reddens,' you 
 know, ' never pry ! ' You don't want to lose your Eden, 
 do you?" 
 
 " I don't think I quite know what you are talking 
 about. Is it a quotation?" 
 
 " Of sorts, yes, 
 
 " ' Where the apple reddens 
 
 Never pry 
 Lest we lose our Edens, 
 Eve and 1 1 ' 
 
 Don't you read Browning?" 
 
 " I never seem to read anything, nowadays ! I am 
 growing very frivolous." 
 
 " All the better, at your age ! But you might read 
 Browning and find him frivolous too. It is one of the 
 functions of a real poet that he shall have wares to suit 
 every necessity." 
 
 "Is frivolity a necessity?" said Starling's soft voice 
 across the table. " You are the first person I ever met 
 with who dared to suggest that Browning could be friv- 
 olous, Major Yeats." 
 
 " He can be frivolously applied anyhow ! I remem- 
 bered an adaptation of two lines of his to cheap cham- 
 pagne, which appeared in Punch, and which recurs to 
 my mind every time I am offered inferior wine 
 
 " ' How mad, and sad, and bad it was 
 But O how it was sweet I ' " 
 
 " But I like sweet champagne," protested Margery, 
 " even if it is cheap." 
 
 "And do you like the consequences?" asked Yeats, 
 laughing. " Look ahead, Miss Cunningham. No life 
 can be lived entirely in the present."
 
 The Story of Eden 113 
 
 For a second the gravity through which his eyes al- 
 ways smiled, as if a little weary of his own knowledge, 
 touched the bright young face at his side. Margery 
 thought that he looked more than ever as if he had 
 been drawn by Du Maurier, the fine lines of his face, 
 the lines of a Gentleman, and the peculiar air about him 
 of being thorough-bred. She wondered with a pang if 
 he guessed ! Was there any betrayal in her manner or 
 Vibart's when they spoke to him at the door of the ball- 
 room ? She could not tell even herself why, but she 
 knew that she very much wished to keep Major Yeats's 
 good opinion, and she hoped his chance words meant 
 nothing. 
 
 When Vibart came for his second dance Margery 
 was sitting with Mrs. Drysdale. She had hardly seen 
 her chaperon all the evening, but they had seized an 
 unexpected chance and were comparing notes. 
 
 "Is it your dance with her, Major Vibart?" Mrs. 
 Drysdale said. " Please don't go and hide her where 
 she can't hear the train bell ! I know it will ring soon, 
 and then there will be a stampede, and Ossy will hurry 
 us away without half our clothes." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Drysdale, how extremely shocking ! 
 I blush for you already ! " 
 
 " Oh, well, our outside clothes, of course ! We are 
 not returned to the Garden of Eden yet, though Miss 
 Cunningham thinks that Wynberg must be the original 
 Paradise." 
 
 How strange it was that every one kept on referring 
 to the same subject ! Yeats's quotation returned to 
 Margery's mind, as she rose and sauntered away with 
 Vibart 
 
 " Where the apple reddens 
 
 Never pry 
 Lest we lose our Edens, 
 Eve and 1 1 " 
 
 " Don't you think I am an exemplary character to be 
 8
 
 H4 The Story of Eden 
 
 found under the wing of my chaperon? " she said, gaily. 
 
 " I was just thinking how delightful you must be to 
 undertake as a charge ! " he returned, in his pleas- 
 antest tones. " No anxiety about you, no hunting 
 out of dark corners, no dreadful feeling that you are 
 a wall-flower and having anything but a good time ! 
 Your success is too evident to be discussed in any way." 
 He laughed a little, and Madge took courage. She 
 could not believe in a frowning future when people 
 laughed. Vibart made no pretence of dancing; he 
 went straight out to the tents again, and finding one 
 empty, stooped his tall head and led his partner in, 
 drawing the flap to afterwards, even arranging the 
 loose folds on the ground with his foot to assure their 
 remaining closed. Then he turned round, all pretence 
 of lightness gone from his manner and his eyes ablaze, 
 and caught Madge in his arms. There was a confi- 
 dence in the action that struck her dumb. 
 
 " I have been waiting for this for the last hour ! " he 
 said. Margery liked the fervour of the tone and the 
 sense of being strongly yet delicately held in his arms. 
 Vibart was too wise to press his advantages. He knew 
 that he had lost his head before, and he did not mean 
 to startle his prey before escape was too difficult. 
 " Don't turn your face away, Madge ! You don't mind 
 my kissing you, do you ? " 
 
 "I don't think you ought to," Madge whispered 
 uneasily. 
 
 "Why? What possible harm can it do you? " 
 
 No answer, as he knew there would be. 
 
 " Are you afraid of being scolded ? But no one need 
 know. And surely, if you like to be kind to me and 
 make me happy, that can't be wrong, can it? Do you 
 think it wrong to be happy, Madge ? " 
 
 No, but " 
 
 " But it does n't make you happy? " 
 
 " I did n't mean that exactly, I meant "
 
 The Story of Eden 115 
 
 " Look here, what can it possibly matter to any one 
 else if you and I choose to be all in all to each other ? 
 What the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve 
 for. We won't tell them. But to touch you, to hold 
 you in my arms, is everything to me. You, in your 
 happy little life, can't realise the hardships and the 
 difficulties that a man has to endure in silence. And 
 my lot has been a pretty dark one, God knows ! 
 Surely you won't grudge me a little of your sunshine, 
 Madge?" 
 
 The girl put up her hand nervously, and fingered 
 the thick gold shoulder-straps of his uniform without 
 speaking. She was trying to find words whereby to 
 disentangle herself from the web which seemed to be 
 closing round her. It was impossible to refer to his 
 " hard lot " in more definite words than he had done ; 
 it was horrible even to suggest that it could do her 
 harm to be made love to, as a fact she was practi- 
 cally ignorant of what the " harm " could be, her objec- 
 tion being based on a vague tradition that a girl must not 
 approach nearer than within two yards of a man unless 
 he is going to marry her, or has the excuse of danc- 
 ing, skating, etc., of course. So she stood in silence, 
 troubled by the absence of the prescribed two feet, 
 with Vibart's hand caressing her face and hair tenderly, 
 and his eyes reading her transparent face even more 
 easily than her silence. 
 
 " Madge, have n't you any love to give me ? " 
 
 Still the silence. 
 
 "Not even a little?" 
 
 " Please don't ask me. You know I ought n't n 
 
 " But people can't be bound by what they are taught 
 they ' ought ' or ' ought not ' to do, my dear child ! 
 It is n't in human nature. You think, because you 
 have been told certain conventional platitudes, that 
 you must n't care for me ; but do you think the plati- 
 tudes will prevent it ? Don't look so troubled, it is
 
 n 6 The Story of Eden 
 
 only in Nature that we should come together like this. 
 You can't help it, nor can I. What is the use of say- 
 ing what we ' ought ' to do ? the question is what we 
 have done. I have grown to love you so that I can't 
 give you up " 
 
 " Oh, please don't, you frighten me ! And I don't 
 think I oug , can see you any more after this." 
 
 He held her for a moment in silence. " Madge, do 
 you love me? " he said abruptly. 
 
 "I don't know, I suppose so, I think I do." 
 
 "Can you trust me not to do you any harm? " 
 
 " Yes, of course," hastily. 
 
 " If it is fine to-morrow night, will you come out into 
 your garden about half-past nine, I can't get down 
 before, and I '11 join you in the vineyard arbour 
 which you showed me the other day. I want to dis- 
 cuss this with you further, and we may be interrupted 
 any moment now. Will you come? " 
 
 " I will try " 
 
 " All right, your brother goes to sleep after din- 
 ner, does n't he ? I will come through the gap in the 
 hedge, not round in front of the house at all. For the 
 present I won't worry you any more, my poor little girl ! 
 But give me one last kiss, because you are so sweet, 
 and I have got all to-night and to-morrow to get 
 through without you ! " 
 
 Madge stood on tiptoe and drew his handsome, 
 flushed face down to her own. " You are so tall ! " she 
 said tremulously. " Good-night, Jack ! " 
 
 " I don't care," she thought recklessly, " I shall be- 
 lieve in him ! And I will give him all the love he 
 needs, poor darling ! " All through the homeward 
 journey she was busy thinking of Vibart and the 
 strange, unlooked-for turn things had taken, un- 
 looked-for to her, at any rate, so that the rest of 
 the party accused her of sleepiness, and tried in vain 
 to rouse her. She heard, a? if far away, their joking
 
 The Story of Eden 117 
 
 roices asking Johnnie Dodd if he meant to fight the 
 engine-driver this time, and drive the train himself into 
 the sea. Only once did she become conscious that 
 True was rolling up his overcoat to make a pillow for 
 her head, and smiled at him gratefully. But they were 
 all shadows of which Vibart was the real substance. 
 The light fabric of the life around her had been rudely 
 torn away, and gave her a glimpse of heaving, seeth- 
 ing Nature underneath. Was it always so? Did all 
 these women carry a hidden knowledge of something 
 awfully present and awfully real beneath it all? She 
 shrank with an unexplained horror, the gossip which 
 had fallen heedlessly on her ears assuming sudden 
 strange meanings. What was it? How could raw 
 human passion ugly, untamable nature dare to 
 approach the invulnerable guard of conventionality 
 and civilisation? She shut her eyes and would not 
 think. 
 
 " Where the apple reddens 
 
 Never pry 
 Lest we lose our Edens, 
 Eve and I."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 " Lend thy shape for the shame of Eden 
 (And O the bower and the hour /) 
 Is not the foe-God weak as the foeman 
 When love grows hate in the heart of a woman ? " 
 
 THERE was a gymkana on at Kenilworth race- 
 course, the day after the Beatrice dance, and Madge 
 wanted to go to it. There was no difficulty about an 
 escort, for Starling had asked her to go with them, and 
 had offered to pick her up, as it was on their way. 
 Madge felt more than ever inclined to go on the day 
 in question, for she rose with a feeling of restlessness 
 upon her, and a disinclination to settle to anything 
 that would allow her to think. If she thought, she 
 must come to some decision about that meeting in the 
 garden, which she did not wish to do. When she 
 dwelt on it, it assumed such grave proportions that all 
 she could find to say about it to herself was "Of course 
 I shall not keep the appointment. He ought never to 
 have suggested it, and I ought never to have said yes 
 for a moment. Oh, dear, that 'ought* and 'ought 
 not ' ! It was just what he said did n't weigh a bit, 
 and I could n't help it by merely saying I should. 
 Well, if I can't help it it does n't matter. But of course 
 I need n't go or if I do, it will only be to tell him to 
 go away." It was much more satisfactory to put the 
 matter out of her mind, and say she would see 
 when the time came. When treated as if it were of 
 no importance, it really seemed of no importance. 
 
 "I will go to the gymkana and forget all about it! " 
 said Margery, as she went out onto the stoep befor*
 
 The Story of Eden 119 
 
 breakfast. " What a lovely day ! I am sorry the 
 grapes are over. I hate to see the vines turning 
 golden and dropping their leaves. What a pity that 
 nothing lasts even in the sunshine ! " 
 
 There was one factor in her arrangements, however, 
 of which she had forgotten to dispose. This was the 
 Professor in a bad temper. She had found that he 
 had gone to bed when she returned home at three 
 o'clock in the morning, and by a previous arrangement 
 had knocked at his door and said, " I have come home, 
 Anthony ! " to which he had replied by requesting her 
 to stop that row and let him sleep. She had laughed 
 irrepressibly at the time, and wondered with a sudden 
 daring thought if he would ever have found out if she 
 had asked any one in for some refreshment after the long 
 journey, before she went to bed? True had seen her 
 to her own door. " I might just as well have given 
 him a whisky and soda ! " thought Madge. " It would 
 have been rather fun to sit and gossip with True on 
 the edge of the precipice of Anthony's wrath, while he 
 slumbered serenely overhead t Really, he would never 
 have known. If I had not come home at all, but 
 had walked in to breakfast he would have been just 
 as wise and he would n't have sworn at me for 
 disturbing him." 
 
 The disturbance seemed to have upset the delicate 
 equilibrium of the Professor's temper. He asked his 
 sister in sarcastic tones what fresh amusement she had 
 on to-day, and when she reluctantly suggested the 
 gymkana, he spoke plainly and to the point on the 
 subject of dissipation. 
 
 " I don't like your being out morning, noon, and 
 night like this ! " he blustered. " It 's not a decent life 
 for any girl. People will say you are not properly 
 looked after I can't be for ever following you round, 
 you must look after yourself, and see that you don't get 
 talked of as if you were fast."
 
 120 The Story of Eden 
 
 " But, Anthony," pleaded Margery, trying to be 
 reasonable and calm, and resist the impulse to point 
 out the inaccuracies and inconsistencies of his speech. 
 " It is so very seldom that I am out in the evenings. 
 And if I did stay at home this afternoon there would 
 be nothing for me to do. You know I never neglect 
 the house. If it interfered with your comfort in any 
 way " 
 
 " I don't care, I don't like your being out so much, 
 do you hear?" (There was little doubt of that. The 
 whole house could hear with his voice at that pitch.) 
 " I won't have my sister spoken of as if she were " 
 He did pull himself up in time before the actual word, 
 but the blow of the sentence struck Madge almost as 
 hard. " You 're for ever fooling with that old ape 
 Livingston, or Truman, or some egregious ass in red 
 trickery ! You 'd better stay at home for once." 
 
 Madge had held her breath for another name, but to 
 be accused of only Beau Livingston and True was such 
 a relief that she took courage. " I shall do nothing of 
 the sort ! " she said with sudden spirit. " You do not 
 help to make home so attractive that I wish to stay 
 there, and I shall go out until you are in a better 
 temper ! " 
 
 She did not stay for the tornado which was to be 
 expected, but made her escape while the Professor was 
 still gathering breath to roar. He was out at luncheon- 
 time, so she avoided another encounter, and when 
 Starling arrived, she drove off with her in good spirits, 
 trying to put the whole matter out of her mind, as she 
 had Vibart and the garden, and proving even more 
 successful. The necessity of such practice in a life 
 lived under the same roof with the Professor, was 
 making Madge an adept in putting things out of her 
 mind. It is unwise to dwell on the fact that you 
 have practically been called something that would not 
 quite bear saying, and sworn at as if you were as little
 
 The Story of Eden 121 
 
 worthy of consideration as a very much lower animal. 
 Madge was afraid that if she did begin to dwell on these 
 things, she would not remain under the same roof with 
 her half-brother for long, and there was enough pleas- 
 ure in her present life to balance the occasional storms 
 which she had to weather, and to make her reluctant 
 to allow things to come to a crisis. 
 
 She forgot all her troubles as soon as she got into the 
 enclosure before the stand at Kenilworth, with the 
 happy ease of her youth and a nature which was more 
 impressionable than imaginative. Actual things could 
 annoy Madge as long as they were present with her, 
 but she never worried herself with dwelling on them 
 when past, or picturing them afresh in the future. 
 There were half-a-dozen people to speak to, and joke 
 with, and to laugh and talk made sufficient distraction 
 for her at the moment. 
 
 " How amazingly fresh you are ! " Livingston said to 
 her in greeting. " Here are we with crowsfeet round 
 our eyes, telling the tale of last night's racketing in 
 every sickly smile, and you look as if it had done you 
 good ! That is the worst of young people they are 
 such a horrible warning to the old ! I never realised 
 half my own repulsiveness until you appeared." He 
 looked, himself, as spick and span as if he had been 
 going to bed every night at eight o'clock, not a hair 
 out of place, cool, smart, and serene. 
 
 " I was very sleepy this morning," Margery con- 
 fessed. " And Anthony was very cross. Don't you 
 think there ought to be a law to prevent people being 
 cross in their own households ? It cannot matter half 
 so much to the outside world, who can walk away and 
 leave them. I could n't walk away, because I wanted 
 my breakfast. It is a melancholy fact that my sensi- 
 tiveness does not weigh for a moment against eggs and 
 bacon/' 
 
 " I shall certainly have to chloroform your brother in
 
 122 The Story of Eden 
 
 one of his own bottles some day," said Livingston, 
 gaily. " Shall we do it together ? We shall never have 
 a moment's peace until he is nicely pinned out on a 
 card, and relegated to the genus Agrestis which 
 means bore, of course." 
 
 "Poor Anthony ! I think I would spare him the 
 card I hate to see the specimens mounted. They 
 have such little lives, why should n't they enjoy them? " 
 
 " My dear Miss Cunningham, your sentiments are 
 quite horribly sentimental and abominably true. 
 And I have no doubt that the specimens in particular 
 would agree with you. It must be most annoying to 
 be a sacrifice to Science. I never could see any satis- 
 faction in it for the victim. Apropos of nothing, 
 are you not looking forward to seeing the ' Owl ' next 
 week?" 
 
 The 'Owl'?" 
 
 " The paper, surely you know the ' Owl ' ? It is the 
 smartest little local rag that ever veiled naughty scan- 
 dals in wit. Our Home society papers might go to 
 school to the ' Owl.' I wonder what they will have to say 
 of last night's dance." 
 
 " I remember now hearing something about an 'Owl ' 
 cake." 
 
 " That is it. They give away a cake every week to 
 the local celebrity who has done the stupidest thing 
 within those eight days, made a fool of himself, or 
 herself, in fact ! The beauty of it is that they are nearly 
 always right! Johnnie Dodd has had it twice, and 
 Drysdale once. To take the cake for stupidity is an 
 admirable chastening. Oh, Wynberg would not be 
 Wynberg without its bird of wisdom, to say nothing of 
 the other suburbs." 
 
 "Has Anthony ever taken the cake?" asked An- 
 thony's sister with caution, but intense appreciation. 
 
 " Not yet, but you have but to wait, if I know 
 anything of human nature the ' Owl ' will yet avenge your
 
 The Story of Eden 123 
 
 wrongs. It is a witty, wicked little publication. I '11 
 tell you what they suggested about Mrs. Cromo Dame.'' 
 
 "What are you two talking about?" asked Polly 
 Harbord, coming up to them gaily. 
 
 " and so my friend shot the tiger in the jungle ! " 
 said Beau, looking straight at Margery. 
 
 " Oh, if that is it, I am very glad I came. Do tell 
 me what he was saying, Madge! You don't know that 
 sentence, do you ? Mr. Livingston always uses it when 
 he is interrupted in saying something he should not, 
 and with a few a very few people it has really been 
 taken for the end of a story." 
 
 " We had not reached the point, I am afraid," said 
 Margery, laughing. " So I do not know if Mr. Living- 
 ston was going to say anything he should not. If he 
 was, I am rather sorry that you came just then. Who 
 is that girl in pink talking to True, Polly? " 
 
 " Where ? Oh, that is the Ringden girl. Her peo- 
 ple have gone up to Kimberley for her father's health, 
 and they left her here in a boarding-house. She has 
 left that boarding-house, by the way." 
 
 " No, has she? " said Livingston. " Did she become 
 too pressing in her attentions to the curate ? I know 
 there was a curate staying there, because I saw the 
 greengrocer leaving a perfect load of bananas one day. 
 Have you ever noticed that curates always eat any 
 quantity of banana, Miss Cunningham ? They feed upon 
 it constantly, and it makes them pulpy. Go on, Miss 
 Harbord, what was the reason they turned Miss Ring- 
 den out?" 
 
 " She walked in her sleep," said Polly, with the 
 laughter beginning to punctuate her words. " They 
 said they really couldn't be responsible for her. They 
 never knew where she would be during the night." 
 
 " How awkward ! I suppose she took a leaf out of 
 Johnnie Dodd's book and said, ' I will come in ! I will 
 come in 1 ' "
 
 124 The Story of Eden 
 
 Madge joined in the laughter which followed. She 
 had outgrown her objection to Polly's little stories, they 
 only amused her now. She looked at the girl in pink, 
 and said, " Polly, how can you ! poor girl ! I daresay 
 it 's a great misfortune for her." 
 
 " Not at all," said Livingston. " The misfortune is 
 probably somebody else's doing or undoing." 
 
 "Well, of course it isn't her fault," said Polly. 
 "She couldn't help it." 
 
 " I have always noticed that the things we cannot 
 help are those for which we are most responsible," re- 
 marked Beau. "Shall we go and have tea? I saw 
 Forrester a minute ago. He will take us into the Regi- 
 mental tent." 
 
 As they went through the door in the wall, and down 
 the steep steps to the Paddock, the new Stand was 
 not built in those days, and the approaches to the old 
 were elementary, Truman joined them. " Going to 
 have tea?" he said. " Come to our tent, please. The 
 City Club have got one too, it 's not so nice as ours." 
 He fell into step beside Madge and beamed at her. 
 " My little pigs are quite well," he said, in a tone of 
 distinct congratulation. Madge turned and stared at 
 him ; some vague idea that she had hitherto mistaken 
 his calling, and that he was a farmer rather than a sol- 
 dier, floated through her mind. " And the garden is 
 coming on nicely," he added. 
 
 "True, what do you mean? " 
 
 " Are you Mess President this week?" asked Polly. 
 " Or have you only taken over the live-stock? " 
 
 " Both. I 'm very busy. You see," he said to Madge, 
 " the Regiment which was here before us, left us three 
 little pigs " 
 
 "But where on earth did they get them?" 
 
 " I don't know, I 'm sure, but they are with us now. 
 I find that fact quite sufficient. They all escaped last 
 Sunday night and rushed round the Camp. I had three
 
 The Story of Eden 125 
 
 fellows dining with me. They all went to help. It was 
 the best entertainment I have ever succeeded in giving." 
 
 " Did you go yourself? " 
 
 " No," said True, thoughtfully, " I sat still and waited 
 until it was all over. I see a good deal of the pigs in 
 everyday life. I thought if it were a real distraction to 
 other people they might as well have it." 
 
 " How 's the garden, True ? " Livingston said. 
 
 " Coming on, but slowly. It has been rather neg- 
 lected, but there are plenty of white violets." 
 
 " Are there ? " said Madge. " Oh, do send me some. 
 I love them." 
 
 " Of course I will, as many as you like. I did n't 
 know you would care for them. Shall I bring them 
 down to-night after Mess ? " 
 
 " No," said Margery, with a hurried breath. " Not 
 to-night I think. Anthony has been so cross all day 
 if any one came in this evening and disturbed his 
 after-dinner sleep I don't like to think of the conse- 
 quences." 
 
 " I could ask for you or merely leave them at the 
 door." 
 
 " He would be sure to wake or hear an altercation or 
 something," said Madge. " No, don't send them to- 
 night I am not in such a hurry as all that. I should 
 like them on Wednesday, please. I will wear them to 
 tennis at Traveller's Rest. (What a detestable hypo- 
 crite I am ! But I can't have him coming to-night. 
 What should I do if they met !) Isn't it a pity that 
 the tennis is nearly over? " she added aloud. 
 
 " Yes. But there 's hockey later on. Have you 
 joined the Ladies' Club?" 
 
 " No, I should like to." 
 
 "I am Umpire," said True, serenely. They had 
 reached the tent as he spoke, and found themselves 
 standing by the tables with Clive Forrester and Captain 
 Ransom.
 
 126 The Story of Eden 
 
 " How d' ye do?" Forrester said. " Is True talking 
 about the Hockey? You know the reason he is Um- 
 pire, Miss Cunningham ? " 
 
 " No, I have only just heard of the Club." 
 
 " Well, the ladies wanted an Umpire, but for many 
 reasons they would not have another lady still less 
 would they have a man. A way out of the difficulty 
 was discovered by some one suggesting that they might 
 have True." 
 
 "What a shame ! " Margery said, with a glance at 
 True, who stood by smiling. 
 
 " I don't mind," he said. " I like being Umpire." 
 
 " You bet he does, Miss Cunningham. The girls get 
 lots of tumbles, and True has to pick them all up. I 
 don't think it 's fair that he should have it all to him- 
 self. There is a tale " 
 
 " Shut up, Forrester ! " True said, quickly, but smil- 
 ing as amicably as ever. " Shall I get you some more 
 tea, Lady?" 
 
 "No, thanks. I want to go and bet on the races 
 now ! Are you going to plunge, Mr. Livingston? " 
 
 " No, I shall leave that to Merry Andrew over there ! " 
 He pointed with his stick to a horse which the Kaffir 
 groom was trying vainly to lead round the paddock. 
 "Who is riding him? " 
 
 "V. C." said Forrester, carelessly. "He will have 
 his work cut out." 
 
 " That is the man you said I should n't appreciate 
 yet," said Margery, rather resentfully, to Livingston. 
 " And you never introduced him to me, though he 
 was in our carriage the other night." 
 
 " Of course I did n't. I have too much respect for 
 Cayley ! " 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, but it sounds rude." 
 
 "Then don't listen to it. One of the choicest 
 secrets of this life is never to listen to disagreeable 
 things. It would be like acknowledging the acquaint- 
 ance of an ill-bred person 1 "
 
 The Story of Eden 127 
 
 " Well, I sha'n't stay here to run the chance of hear- 
 ing ! True, take me back to the ring, will you, and 
 put half a sovereign on anything you like for me?" 
 
 " I '11 come too," Polly said. " I want to try the 
 totalisator." Their voices died away into distance. 
 Livingston and Forrester stood for a moment outside 
 the tent, and watched the crowd go by. 
 
 " Where 's Vibart? " Livingston said suddenly. 
 
 " In Cape Town. He is on duty at Government 
 House to-day," Forrester responded. " I wonder if 
 Mrs. Hand-painted Lady would like to ask me the 
 same question? There she goes with her particular 
 friend Miss Montfort." 
 
 " They are a pretty pair ! " Livingston acknowledged 
 with open amusement. " I doubt if there is much to 
 choose between them." 
 
 "Except the wedding-ring. You forget Cromo 
 Dame. He is a small detail, I admit. Still he is a 
 detail." 
 
 " Don't meddle with Miss Montfort, whatever you 
 do," said Beau, as he lifted his hat gracefully to the 
 lady in question. " When a woman knows how to 
 dress as well as that, she has brains." 
 
 " No tha-anks ! Don't care to come after the 
 Tracker. He ran her to earth first." 
 
 " He 's a clever devil to play those two women to- 
 gether I 'd rather tackle them a thousand miles or 
 so apart." 
 
 " Oh, he 's dropped Miss Montfort long since. She 's 
 after V. C., and the Tracker's got another attrac- 
 tion! He's on the trail already," Forrester laughed 
 significantly. 
 
 " How about that Up Country work that V. C. was 
 after? Will he get it ?" 
 
 "What do you think? " said Forrester, coolly, as he 
 lit a cigarette. " He is useful to keep Miss Montfort 
 employed ! " he paused and blew out the match.
 
 128 The Story of Eden 
 
 " If he were away the Tracker might find himself in 
 difficulties, so I think V. C. will be " The 
 match was tossed lightly onto the burnt grass. 
 
 " What a fool V. C. must be to spin his own snare 
 like that I " said Livingston, looking down at the match 
 as though he spoke of it. " He might reckon on being 
 tossed aside. It 's a pity he bets his energies might 
 be better expended." 
 
 Forrester blew a ring of smoke into the clear air. 
 " ' So the fool was stripped to his foolish hide ! ' " he 
 hummed. " Heard that our new Chief is coming 
 out?" 
 
 " No ! Have they really found you a Colonel at 
 last? Vibart is still in command, I suppose?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, until this new man takes it over. Then 
 he is going Home." 
 
 " Do you know him? " 
 
 "Who? The Colonel? No. He's been in the 
 ist Batta'ion for ages he's quite an old fellow. I 
 should think they hope to finish him up out here ! We 
 hear that he has been a beauty in his day." 
 
 "When does he come? " 
 
 " Let's see this is April. About July, I expect." 
 
 " Vibart did n't tell me he was going Home," Liv- 
 ingston said deliberately. " But I suppose he did n't 
 know himself until lately. He will leave many widows 
 behind ! " 
 
 " He will leave many things behind unofficially ! " 
 said Forrester, carelessly. " There 's the starting bell ! 
 Come along V. C. is riding." 
 
 Years afterwards that scene came back to Margery, 
 though she was not especially interested at the moment ; 
 but the long, wind-swept race-course, the broken land 
 all round, the velvet line of mountains drifting away 
 into infinite distance, and the sloping sunlight on the 
 Flats, always brought that particular race to her mind, 
 and she thought that the man who came in so cleanly
 
 The Story of Eden 129 
 
 past the post and gained such thunders of applause, had 
 been happier if his mount had succeeded in throwing 
 him and trampling out his life in the moment of his 
 triumph, for V. C. won, and Madge went home the 
 richer by three pounds for the half-sovereign she 
 had staked on Merry Andrew. 
 
 She drove home with the Dodds and True. Mrs. 
 Johnnie was prone to "mother" Margery, which did 
 her good, and Starling left a wholesome flavour in her 
 mouth. Coupled with the pleasure of the afternoon, 
 and the release from any strain on her temper, the 
 effect on Madge was one of righteousness and peace. 
 She dressed for dinner with unusual care, and with 
 some idea of pleasing her brother, not of arraying her- 
 self for the rendezvous in the garden, which she had 
 decided not to keep. " I won't go out at all," she 
 thought. " He may think I could n't come, or he 
 may not I don't care which. If the latter, so much 
 the better, for then he won't try it on again. I shall \>Q 
 sorry if it all comes to an end there is no denying it. 
 I don't dare to think how fond I have grown of him. 
 But that 's no reason why I should meet him under the 
 rose after dark. I am almost sure Starling would n't, 
 
 Polly might, out of sheer devilment, and I dare- 
 say there would be no harm in it, but I think I 
 won't. 
 
 " I want to be petted to-night oh, so badly ! How 
 I envy Starling ! There is always some one to admire 
 her and make a fuss over her. If only some one would 
 over me ! but the one person who would like to I 
 have to snub ! I wish Anthony would just say one 
 little approving sentence to me now and then it 
 would be so much easier to try and make things go 
 as he pleases, and I shouldn't want other people to 
 praise me so much. But he never gets beyond a grunt 
 
 you can't make anything out of a grunt ! " (She 
 laughed at her reflection in the glass.) " You look 
 
 9
 
 130 The Story of Eden 
 
 rather nice, Madge ! I must say it, because no one 
 else will. I like you in white fluffy things, my dear, 
 and you have done your hair very nicely. Perhaps 
 Anthony will notice me to-night, and say I look 
 ' decent ' I think that is his highest praise. At 
 any rate I '11 be very sweet to him." 
 
 She was already in her place when the Professor 
 came in to dinner, remembering that he disliked being 
 kept waiting. He took his place in silence, and helped 
 himself to fish without looking at his sister. The radi- 
 ^nt brightness of her face faded a little, but she spoke 
 courteously down the daintily dressed table. 
 
 " Did you go for a ride, Anthony? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The monosyllable was not encouraging. Madge 
 tried again. 
 
 " Where did you go ? " 
 
 " Out towards Groote Schuur." 
 
 " Oh, how pretty it must have looked this after- 
 noon ! Wasn't the light lovely?" 
 
 " I wish you would eat your dinner, and not keep 
 on chattering ! " said the Professor. " You know I hate 
 having to talk with my mouth full. It 's a disgusting 
 habit which does n't appear to have occurred to 
 you ! " 
 
 Margery flushed with mortification. She allowed three 
 courses to slide away before she made another attempt, 
 and then was careful to speak while the dishes were 
 removed. 
 
 " Shall we have our coffee on the stoep to-night? It 
 is quite warm out of doors. Or would you rather have 
 it here as usual? I thought perhaps the stoep would 
 be a change." 
 
 " I shall have mine here. I have no desire to 
 catch cold it is absurd to think of sitting out of 
 doors on an April night, as if it were February ! 
 However" with an eminently disagreeable laugh
 
 The Story of Eden 131 
 
 " pray do so if you like ! I am sure I don't want to 
 detain you here. You are quite at liberty to go. You 
 generally do as you please without any reference to my 
 wishes ! " 
 
 All her patient efforts and forbearance since she had 
 come out from England, rose up before Margery's mind 
 in grinning mockery. How many times at first had she 
 submitted her plans for the day only to be told to 
 do as she pleased as long as she did not bother (the 
 Professor felt no slightest interest in her unimportant 
 comings and goings ! ) and the meals were properly 
 cooked and punctual ! A great rage at the injustice 
 of the attack seized her, and she looked at him down 
 the table with brilliantly wet eyes. It was on the tip 
 of her tongue to say that she would take him at his 
 word for the future ; and then with a last saving grace 
 her own tears quenched her wrath. She got up indeed 
 to leave the room, but as she passed her brother's 
 chair she paused and laid a generous little hand on his 
 shoulder. It was the nearest thing to a caress that she 
 had ever offered him. 
 
 " You are cross, Anthony, but I did n't mean to 
 bother you really. I only thought we might have sat 
 and talked a little after dinner to-night. It 's so dull 
 in the evenings ! " said Madge, with a little sigh for 
 the amusement forborne, and her own good resolu- 
 tions. 
 
 But the Professor's patience had been taxed as far 
 as he ever allowed it, and his sister's touch had made 
 him jump, being totally unexpected. He was a nervous 
 man, and he found jumping painful ; when Anthony 
 Cunningham suffered inconvenience of any kind he 
 generally turned and rent the thing nearest him that 
 was weaker than himself. With an oath, he seized the 
 girl's hand as it lay lightly on his shoulder, and flung 
 her from him with such violence that she nearly fell, 
 the attack taking her absolutely by surprise in her 
 turn.
 
 132 The Story of Eden 
 
 " You damned little fool ! " he exclaimed. " What 
 on earth do you want trying to paw me, and startling 
 me like that? Go to the devil, if you like but let 
 me alone if you are wise ! I won't have it, do you 
 hear?" (The servants did, and said that, "Massa was 
 screechin' like a devil ! ") "You 've gone contrary to 
 my wishes all day, and I don't want to see any more of 
 you to-night " 
 
 But Margery had fled. She ran swiftly and blindly 
 through the house along the stoep, and down into the 
 solemn darkness of the garden which stretched dim 
 arms of trees to receive her, and drew her into the 
 night. She could not run and cry too, but she panted 
 against the sobs, until she threw herself down in the 
 arbour, and lay there, quivering and shaking through 
 every excitable nerve and pulse. 
 
 " He struck me almost Oh, he will strike me 
 before we have done ! " she gasped, cowering down 
 against the warm ground. The arbour was roughly 
 formed of two large-leaved trees laced together, and 
 the seat was simply a broad step cut in the high bank 
 which bounded the vineyard. The trees grew each 
 side of the step, which had become overgrown with 
 green turf, but was perfectly dry and soft. Margery 
 lay full length on this turf-seat, hardly conscious of any- 
 thing but the relief of the stillness and darkness and the 
 touch of the grass beneath her, which somehow com- 
 forted her as though Mother Earth were really extend- 
 ing a healing power through every blade and the rustle 
 of the giant leaves close overhead. The vineyard was 
 on a lower level than the house, some feet below the 
 drive and the flower garden, from which a flight of 
 stone steps led down into it, and the arbour being at 
 the further end she felt herself a long way off from 
 Anthony, and that terrible dinner-table, and all the 
 horror of the last half- hour. 
 
 After a while she grew quieter. Her jarred nerves
 
 The Story of Eden 133 
 
 quivered into the silence, and she sat up and pushed 
 back the loosened hair from her face. " I will never 
 touch him again willingly," she said with set lips. " I 
 will be his housekeeper, and see that things go smoothly 
 for the sake of my board and lodging. Beyond that 
 we will be less to each other than many a master and 
 servant. I will go my own way, as he advised * to the 
 devil,' if the fancy takes me ! " She sat still on the 
 grassy seat, her hands clasped on her knees, and her 
 face turned blindly to the vineyard. She had forgotten 
 Vibart, everything but the crisis she had come through, 
 and she remained motionless, waiting for the patience 
 of the night to sink into her heart and dissipate the 
 horrible mental pain and fear that were gradually dying 
 out of her brain. But even as she sat there, a soft 
 white blot upon the darkness of the arbour, something 
 caught her ear, her clasped hands tightened, and she 
 turned her face with quickened breath, and remem- 
 brance struggling back to her mind. 
 
 What was it ? A rustling of leaves, the moving of 
 boughs, a step, as if some one had leapt lightly down 
 the bank below the lane; then silence, while Madge 
 and that Something approaching her, both waited to 
 see if it had been overheard ; then a quick, impatient 
 tread coming along the path, and then a dark form 
 blotting out the entrance of the arbour, and while she 
 still held her breath, two arms outstretched to her into 
 which she sprang. 
 
 " Madge ! " Vibart whispered laughing. " Are you 
 sure no one heard me ? " 
 
 " You can hide in the bushes if they did ! " she 
 whispered back recklessly. A sudden reaction from 
 her former mood of prudence, and then the later strain, 
 were making her feel as if she were light-headed. With 
 less reserve than she had ever shown him, she put her 
 bare arms round his neck and caressed him. 
 ^ "You darling, how nice you look !" he said press-
 
 134 The Story of Eden 
 
 ing her fondly, and then holding her away from him to 
 look at her. " What a pretty frock ! " 
 
 " Oh, you are appreciative ! " Madge said with a little 
 sympathetic sigh for her past disappointment. " Do 
 you know, I thought I looked rather nice to-night ! " 
 
 "Of course you do you are the prettiest girl 
 round about here, and it is perfectly sweet of you 
 to make yourself so nice for me ! " Margery did not 
 contradict him, or tell him how nearly she had not 
 come at all. She turned with a shudder from the 
 mere remembrance of her good intentions, connected 
 as they were with her brother, and basked in Vibart's 
 approval. They sat down on the wide grassy seat, and 
 he put his arm round her, and expressed a tender 
 anxiety as to her bare arms and neck would she 
 catch cold ? was she sure she was warm enough ? It 
 was delightful to be so much considered and petted. 
 " Let me wrap you in my riding cloak," he said, hastily 
 divesting himself of the heavy folds which afforded him 
 a safe disguise. Madge could see the gold lace on 
 his uniform glimmer in the starlit darkness. "Your 
 arms are quite cold ! how nice and soft too, ar' n't 
 they?" 
 
 " Oh, no, do keep your cloak ! " she said, pushing 
 his head away gently as he stooped to press his lips to 
 the smooth chilled skin. " I am afraid you might be 
 seen." 
 
 " I am quite safe in here. I threw this thing on 
 and came straight down from Mess, on the plea of 
 writing official letters, and seeing Livingston ! " 
 
 They both laughed softly. " How fortunate that he 
 lives near here, and that you must take the same road 
 to reach him and us ! " she said. " But supposing 
 some one had been coming down too, and had offered 
 to walk with you?" 
 
 " I don't think they would ! " said the Tracker, with 
 a peculiar smile. " Anyhow I should have managed to
 
 The Story of Eden 135 
 
 turn up somehow. I could stay away from Mess if 
 that were all. Now tell me what you have been doing 
 all day ! " 
 
 He said no more of talking over the question of 
 their greater intercourse, or persuading her, as he had 
 done formerly ; perhaps he recognised that some un- 
 known agency had done it for him. Madge lingered 
 as long as she dared, and then stood with fast beating 
 heart while he made his stealthy way back through 
 the gap in the hedge, and she heard his steps die away 
 safely down the lane. She laughed a little as she went 
 back to the house, there had been something so sug- 
 gestive of a burglar in Vibart's cloaked figure, the 
 whole incident was rather amusing, and he had so 
 entered into the spirit of the thing that it doubled the 
 enjoyment. It was so charming to laugh ! And some- 
 how the affair was beginning to be exciting and in- 
 tensely interesting, but no more serious or terrifying. 
 One could not be solemn with a fellow-conspirator who 
 was so gay, so thoroughly a ban camaradc. Only one 
 sentence afterwards recurred to her mind to puzzle 
 her ; he had several times referred to their being " all 
 in all to each other " with a note of deeper passion in 
 his voice. What did he mean ? But the next moment 
 she remembered the pressure of his arms and his ten- 
 derness only, and forgot the mere words. She blushed 
 happily, and her senses lulled her brain to rest and not 
 to question. 
 
 As her foot crossed the threshold of the house her 
 lips tightened. She went straight to her room without 
 meeting her brother again that night, but if anything 
 were wanted to harden her in the course she was pur- 
 suing it was ready to hand in the memory of him. Her 
 last thought was, however, again of Vibart, and she 
 smiled a little as she fell asleep.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 44 Only of one tree eat not in Eden ; 
 
 (And O the bower and the hour I) 
 All save one I give to thy freewill, 
 The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil!' 
 
 WHATEVER his disadvantages as a domestic companion 
 might be, Professor Cunningham possessed a certain 
 value to the world at large, particularly that portion of 
 it devoted to the Science of Insect Life. He was an 
 authority on Coleoptera, and he was writing a treatise 
 on the larva of a particularly repulsive Articulate, which 
 absorbed his time. In a moment of expansion he 
 once described a portion of his morning's researches 
 at the luncheon-table to his sister, who did her best 
 not to shudder. A curious malformation had come 
 under his notice in the elytra of a certain bug, and he 
 mentioned it as a point of unavoidable interest, even to 
 Madge, who quietly pushed away her plate as soon as 
 she began to follow the thread of his discourse, and ate 
 no more at that meal. She did not tell him so, but the 
 dread of her life was the common or kitchen black 
 beetle, blatta, the Professor would have called it, 
 and the fear of his living specimens escaping kept her 
 religiously out of his study. 
 
 She did not, under these circumstances, care to ex- 
 press much interest in his pursuits, and knew as little 
 as possible of what went on behind the green baize 
 door which closed him in from half-past nine in the 
 morning until half-past one, and frequently in the later 
 hours of the day. It was a total surprise, therefore, 
 when he announced one morning that he was going 
 away for a week or ten days to Grahamstown in a
 
 The Story of Eden 137 
 
 search foi bacteriological information at the Institute 
 there. Bacteria were not rightly his branch of science, 
 but a side issue in an entomological journal had opened 
 up a question of some interest to him, and he required 
 certain data to establish the relationship of bacteria 
 and the lowest forms of insect life, such as 
 
 " Oh ! " interrupted Madge, with polite haste, " and 
 when do you think of going? " 
 
 " I am starting on Monday," said the Professor, 
 this was Friday. " You need not pack my bag until 
 the Sunday night." 
 
 ("J forgot I was valet as well as housekeeper and 
 head cook ! " thought Madge. " I am certain to put 
 in all the wrong things, and fold the others so that they 
 crease. And Anthony is so particular ! ") " And how 
 long do you think of staying?" she asked. 
 
 " How can I possibly tell ! " said her brother, testily. 
 " It depends on the work I find to do, and various 
 other things. I am not likely to be away more than 
 a fortnight in any case. It will be a little holiday for 
 me, and set me up for the winter." 
 
 " I suppose you wish the house to go on in your 
 absence the same as when you are here ? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 She had purposely not suggested the propriety of 
 having any one to stay with her, hoping that if she took 
 it for granted that she should remain alone he would 
 do so also ; but a hot blush dyed her face suddenly as 
 she realised why she did not want an older woman 
 with her. Eyes sharper than her brother's, and some 
 one who would not go to sleep after dinner or take soli- 
 tary rides in the afternoon, were not desirable to Madge 
 just now. She said, " I will see about your clothes, 
 if you will just put out what you want packed," and 
 dropped the subject. It was the longest conversation 
 she had had with her brother since he had thrown her 
 from him after the disastrous dinner, and that was some
 
 138 The Story of Eden 
 
 weeks ago. The hot-house properties of the neigh- 
 bourhood had had their influence on her intimacy with 
 Vibart in the mean time. Nothing of mental growth 
 stands still, but in Wynberg events develop from inci- 
 dents as tall plants do from tiny seeds. 
 
 Anthony Cunningham ordered his horse, as usual, at 
 four o'clock that afternoon, and Madge saw him ride 
 away in the sunshine as she stood at the drawing-room 
 window. It was still unusually hot for the time of year, 
 and every available air space was open. Madge had 
 contrived to make her drawing-room pretty, in spite of 
 the furniture, and she sat down by the tea-table as if wait- 
 ing for some one. At twenty minutes past four he 
 came an irreproachable caller, come to pay a formal 
 visit, until the Kaffir girl had announced, " Majore 
 Vibet," and her soft flat-footed tread had departed. 
 With the shutting of the door, Vibart's conventional 
 approach to his hostess vanished. He kissed her 
 warmly, and drew her down onto the sofa beside him. 
 
 " I'm sorry I could n't come round last night, little 
 woman," he said. " And I sha'n 't be able to come to- 
 night, I 'm afraid. It 's guest night this week, instead of 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " So it is what a bother ! Perhaps it 's safer though. 
 I 'm always afraid of the servants seeing me come in. 
 Jack, I 've got some news for you. Will you have some 
 tea?" 
 
 "Please. What's the news? Come and sit beside 
 me again when you 've poured the tea out I don't 
 like you all across the room." 
 
 Margery laughed at him radiantly, over the tea-ser- 
 vice, and handed him his cup. " Anthony calmly an- 
 nounced, this morning, that he was going away ! " she 
 said, as she sat down beside him again. 
 
 " The deuce he is ! When? " 
 
 " On Monday." 
 
 "And you?"
 
 The Story of Eden 139 
 
 I am to stop here in lonely splendour ! " 
 
 " By Jove, that 's just what we wanted ! " A shade 
 of something calculation or thought crossed his 
 face. He glanced at Madge as if considering, but ap- 
 parently abandoned his project. " We '11 have a fine 
 time, won't we, ma mie ? I 'm sorry I 'm so taken up 
 with the General just now, but I don't see why that 
 should interfere." 
 
 " You must n't come here too often," Margery said, 
 with intentional coquetry. " It would n't be wise, you 
 know." 
 
 "What do you call too often?" he laughed, as he 
 set the empty cups down, and with a sudden move- 
 ment lifted her onto his knee. She had been persuaded 
 into that position before, but he had never taken it so 
 abruptly for granted. She gave a little cry and tried to 
 shake herself free. 
 
 " Don't be so rough, Jack ! No, I sha'n't be picked 
 up like a baby. Let me go and sing you something 
 I 've got a new song." 
 
 But he would not let her go on this occasion, though 
 as a rule he was ready and willing enough to listen to 
 her. Madge had managed their intercourse with a 
 skill which might have failed a more experienced 
 woman : she had sung and played to him ; they had 
 talked together and been companions as well as lovers. 
 She would not submit to too much love-making, which 
 had had the effect of whetting Vibart's appetite and keep- 
 ing him all the keener for any opportunity she gave him. 
 Perhaps if her heart had been really involved, she 
 would have been less successful with him ; but there 
 was the excitement and the amusment of testing her 
 power to stimulate her, and she alternately teased and 
 petted, and always contrived to charm her captive 
 afresh. 
 
 " I sha'n't let you go ! " he said, laughing softly. " Do 
 you know I could crumple you up like a roseleafl
 
 140 The Story of Eden 
 
 How easy it would be to strangle you ! " His large 
 hand closed on her soft throat, and she felt the power- 
 ful fingers press with a suggestion of what they could 
 do. 
 
 "Oh! oh, don't!" she gasped with a sudden 
 fright, struggling in his arms. " You always frighten 
 me when I feel how strong you are ! " she added, as he 
 released her. 
 
 " Most women like strength even brute force ! " 
 
 " Yes, I like to think you are strong that is n't it. 
 It 's when I feel it I can't bear to realise that you 
 have got me, and I am entirely in your hands ! " 
 
 " But I want you to be entirely in my hands ! We 
 ought to be all in all to eacL other ! " 
 
 She shrank a little from the look in his eyes, and his 
 hot breath on her face, and releasing herself from his 
 arms took her former place on the sofa at his side. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean ! " she said, half 
 pettishly. " We could n't be more to each other than 
 we are. You know " the hot blood in her face spoke 
 first " that I love you. We can't be anything 
 nearer." 
 
 " Yes, but we can 1 we can ! " he said, in a breathless 
 whisper. Her ignorant words seemed suddenly to 
 have transformed him and broken down his guard. He 
 slipped down on his knees beside her, and, encircling 
 her with his arms, looked up in her face with eyes which 
 prayed for something his lips kept mute. Margery laid 
 a trembling hand on his broad shoulder and tried to 
 push him away ; once again, as when he had stood at 
 her knee to shorten her stirrup, she thought how large 
 and overpowering he was, and he seemed to her to have 
 suddenly gone insane from no cause. He was madly 
 kissing her breast, the delicate laces of her white 
 gown kept a sense of masculinity in the smell of smoke 
 for days afterwards, and uttered a half-impatient ex- 
 clamation, which sounded like distress, when she suc- 
 ceeded in freeing herself and jumped up.
 
 The Story of Eden 141 
 
 " No, you don't understand ! " he said. 
 
 " Indeed I don't and I think you ought to be go- 
 ing. Anthony will be in soon." Madge was severely 
 practical in a moment, and decided that a more level 
 tone to their companionship might not be inadvisable 
 for the future. She had great faith in the effect of an 
 " ordinary manner " in managing emotions, and con- 
 gratulated herself on her success, when she might better 
 have done so on Vibart 's self-control. On thinking 
 over the afternoon, however, she was vaguely uncom- 
 fortable. There was a suggestion of licence in Vibart's 
 manner which had made rapid strides. She did not 
 like it, and began to be beset with dread lest her in- 
 fluence over him might not be strong enough, some 
 day, to prevent his doing or saying " something she did 
 not like," the phrase was as vague as her foreboding. 
 In any case she was relieved when told that she would 
 not see him for a day or so. He was very busy, and 
 was unable to keep tryst in the arbour even for a few 
 minutes at night. Professor Cunningham left home on 
 the Monday morning early, and Margery had the whole 
 day, undisturbed by his moral influence, in which to 
 make good resolutions. It was a noticeable fact, that, 
 when unfretted by his neighbourhood, she recovered 
 her moral balance and reasoned herself into a less 
 disastrous recklessness than the Professor managed to 
 bring forth. 
 
 Madge had not seen Mrs. Drysdale for a week or 
 two; one of the precious boys and the respectable 
 baby had developed measles, and Clarice shut herself 
 in behind a carbolic sheet, from which she communi- 
 cated only with Ossy and the remaining boy, and was 
 oblivious of any one else outside the nursery. Madge 
 had assiduously called to inquire, and left fruit and 
 flowers, but had not, of course, been admitted, and 
 missed her first friend's influence and counsel. She 
 felt, sometimes, that she would like to confide the
 
 142 The Story of Eden 
 
 growing tangle of her life to an older woman, but Fate 
 seemed to have removed all succour far from her. Star- 
 ling and Mrs. Dodd were gone to Caledon with Mr. 
 Johnnie, who occasionally took flying trips when the 
 money burned too hotly in his pocket, and swept his 
 wife and daughter away on unexpected jaunts, like an 
 elephantine whirlwind ; and with the removal of Mrs. 
 Dodd and Mrs. Drysdale beyond the reach of rescue, 
 Margery sank back into her former state of drifting, 
 with a current too strong for her, and, with the plastic- 
 ity of youth, fell into the ways of thought and the views 
 of life taken by the only associate offered her at the 
 time, and became, though she did not know it, a passive 
 reflector of "Jack's " ingenious sophistries and maxims. 
 
 It was the physical part of Margery which was rep- 
 resented in Vibart's mind, without any meaning at- 
 tached to it. When he thought of her, her eyes were 
 always two glimpses of blue between the lines of 
 lashes, because she had a trick of lowering the lids 
 quickly and glancing up as she did so the expres- 
 sion in them passed him by; likewise her hair was 
 fine and thick cobwebs shot with sunshine and 
 piled high on her head ; it suggested nothing of artis- 
 tic effect to him ; but he felt that he wanted to plunge 
 his fingers into its masses, and test its softness. Her 
 round young face, tilted upwards as a flower to the 
 sun, her parted lips (his own smoked for them), 
 her light poised body and ripening form, expressed 
 nothing for his brain to recognise ; he wanted to touch 
 her, to finger and prove what his senses caught at ; but 
 beyond acknowledging a mental quickness in her, she 
 might have been an alert little animal to his compre- 
 hension. Constant intercourse with this point of view 
 is bound to have a certain materializing effect on the 
 finest mind. Margery was beginning to think of her- 
 self as a Body, without an abstract Personality at all. 
 
 She had no visitors on the day of her brother's de-
 
 The Story of Eden 143 
 
 parture ; Vibart had written her a note saying that he 
 had to be in Cape Town all day, and should probably 
 sleep there. She need not expect him until the mor 
 row. The letter was brought by his soldier servant ; 
 but when Madge opened it she found that it was in 
 French, a safeguard over which she smiled a little. 
 
 " I am rather glad he cannot come to-night," she 
 thought. " I wonder if I have the courage to put a 
 stop to the whole affair ? We cannot go any further 
 he frightened me the other day and I don't know 
 what he means." She went out into the dreamy after- 
 noon which had kissed the garden with a golden kiss 
 and made everything soft and warm to look at, as well 
 as feel. There was not a breath of wind stirring, and 
 the heat had been so great all day that she had kept 
 in the house. " The worst of it is that when I am 
 with him he can always persuade me I feel I can't 
 say No to anything he asks. It must be because he is 
 handsome." (She was judging by externals after her 
 newly acquired habit, and with the elementariness of 
 her years.) " All the women round here admire him 
 too, whatever they say of him ! I am glad he is mine, 
 and no one else's." She took out the letter and re- 
 read the sentence which assured her of this fact. It 
 was too flowery when translated, but it fell as prettily as 
 music in the French. Vibart was an excellent linguist, 
 and had wooed as many women on paper as viva voce. 
 This probable cause of his facility did not however 
 occur to Margery, who sat in the relaxing warmth of 
 the afternoon and allowed her thoughts to dwell on his 
 strongly coloured eyes, the silky softness of his mous- 
 tache, and his undeniable figure. If she had been 
 questioned, she would have said that she was passion- 
 ately in love with him, and it was true that the sound 
 of his step made her pulse start, and her senses an- 
 swered his at the first touch. Nevertheless she half 
 formed a resolution to " give it all up," as she said
 
 144 The Story of Eden 
 
 vaguely to herself, sitting among the sun-warmed roses, 
 whose faint scent but ill fulfilled the promise of their 
 gorgeous colour. Little round red roses they were, as 
 deep and bright as blood, but without half the scent of 
 an English " Gens de Bataille." 
 
 " I will try and tell him that we can't go any further, 
 so we must stop ! " she thought practically, as if a 
 man's passion which she had done her best to rouse 
 and foster were as easily laid down as a book of which 
 she did not care to read the end. She felt almost 
 satisfied with her decision, and sat there until the sun 
 dropped down behind the mountains, while the whole 
 garden preached her an unheeded sermon on the un- 
 alterable change and advance of earthly things, the 
 bud growing to blossom, the blossom running to seed, 
 the seed fulfilling its destiny and multiplying the original 
 stock. There is no standing still with Nature. 
 
 But as the evening fell and deepened into night, an 
 intolerable restlessness seized Margery ; she wandered 
 upstairs after dinner and looked at all her prettiest 
 things, and buried herself in the recesses of a hanging 
 wardrobe, and then tossed the dainty fripperies aside, 
 and, leaving the room strewn, went downstairs to her 
 brother's laboratory. It was dark, and smelt strongly 
 of chemicals ; she drew back with a sniff of disgust 
 and closed the door. The memory of his discourses on 
 elytra and tracheae and stomata prevented her pene- 
 trating further, even without her horror of black beetles. 
 The house felt intensely large and dark, and she wan- 
 dered about it aimlessly. Her resolutions in the sun- 
 shine seemed suddenly dwarfed and puny at night; 
 she doubted their strength, and it terrified her. If 
 only she had asked Polly to come in and talk to her, 
 or had had some one to stay in Anthony's absence ! It 
 was horribly lonely. 
 
 She opened the hall door aimlessly after a while, and 
 went out onto the stoep ; the great heat of the day had
 
 The Story of Eden 145 
 
 baked the earth, which was still warm and throwing up 
 heat in the darkness. Margery started back with an 
 exclamation as the sudden warmth rose round her, for 
 the outside world was hotter than the house ; it felt 
 as though she had come within measurable distance of 
 a furnace, or as though the internal fire said to be in 
 the centre of the globe were burning just underfoot. 
 Two lines of a verse recurred to her mind to frighten 
 her, 
 
 " We meet in an evil land 
 
 That is near to the gates of hell," 
 
 it added the last touch to her overwrought mood, and 
 she glanced round her, panting, as if she almost ex- 
 pected to see the sullen red fires glaring out of the 
 darkness. 
 
 The outside world was very dark and still, though 
 the sky was like a diamond mine, every star a jewel 
 cut and polished and set in unfathomable blackness. 
 A fitful little wind played among the bushes, and the 
 keen piercing note of the crickets filled the air with 
 unbroken cadence. It reminded Margery of the dance at 
 Simon's Town, and the little dim tent where she had sat 
 with Vibart, listening mechanically to the same sound. 
 She sat down on the edge of the stoep in the stream 
 of light from the hall behind her, and started with 
 every falling leaf. The night was full of slight noises, 
 and charged with electricity. When a cat ran across 
 the garden to the tennis court, she caught her breath 
 and nearly shrieked, and the sound of a clock striking 
 ten in the house behind her jarred on her nerves. She 
 seemed to possess an extra power of hearing, and 
 caught the sense of sounds long before they could be 
 definitely heard. There were a horse's hoofs beating 
 somewhere along the road from Main's Avenue 
 hardly out of the Avenue as yet, but she felt them com- 
 ing, and strained her ears through the audible night. It 
 10
 
 146 The Story of Eden 
 
 was no surprise to her when the vague sounds fell into 
 the regular rhythm of hoofs ; but even the sharp click 
 of a daylight trot was dulled and muffled mysteriously 
 now, half lost on the sand and fir-needles with which 
 the road was carpeted. Margery held her breath, 
 something unexplained, which she feared beyond words, 
 seemed coming towards her with every hoof- beat ; the 
 horse was trotting along by the hedge now, it turned 
 in at the open gate and was coming down the lane. 
 Who was riding to Camp so late? 
 
 Suddenly the friendly stream of light was extin- 
 guished behind her. She heard some one switch off 
 the light and close the door, without looking out and 
 seeing her. She wanted to cry out, but her voice dried 
 up in her throat, and the security of the lighted house 
 was withdrawn. Then she reminded herself that she 
 could get in through the windows of the morning-room 
 whenever she wished, as the servants had orders to 
 leave the fastening of the window to her, and she 
 rose from her seat on the stoep to walk round to that 
 side of the house. But the horse was passing down 
 the lane, and as she moved her figure was vaguely 
 discernible through the darkness ; the rider hesitated, 
 and dismounted, hitching the animal up to a tree, while 
 Margery stood as if rooted to the ground. The next 
 moment she went forward blindly, straight down the 
 drive. 
 
 " Oh, why did you come ? Where did you come 
 from ? " she said under her breath, with a swift glance 
 back at the house. The lights were all out on this 
 side ; it stood black and sentinel-like, a lifeless thing in 
 the living night. 
 
 A voice came out of the darkness, softly, relentlessly, 
 " I have only just got back. I did not stay in town 
 after all, and I felt I must ride down this way, just to 
 pass the house. My darling, what luck to find you 
 here 1 "
 
 The Story of Eden 147 
 
 "Oh, I oughtn't to be I meant to go to bed. 
 But they have shut me out by mistake " 
 
 " By Jove ! have they ? Do they know you are out 
 here?" 
 
 " No, but I can get in through the morning-room 
 window as usual. They think I have gone to bed. 
 Anthony is away you know, he went this morning." 
 
 " H'm ! " . . . There was an instant's pause while 
 the girl's figure was folded into the rider's heavy cloak. 
 " Come and sit in the vineyard do ! " he whispered. 
 " Just for a few minutes. Kaffir will be all right." He 
 twisted another knot in the rein, and backed the horse 
 under the high hedge behind some bushes, without 
 letting go of Margery's hand. Her spirits had sud- 
 denly risen, and she felt intoxicatingly gay ; fear and 
 instinct, the warders of the daylight, vanished in the 
 excusing darkness under the spell of Vibart's presence, 
 and she was only conscious of her momentary happi- 
 ness the warmth of the great earth the mystery of 
 the night the nearness of human touch and a name- 
 less attraction which drew them as usual close together. 
 It was all a dream as they sat above the vines in the 
 bower of giant leaves, side by side on the wide turf 
 seat, with his riding cloak wrapped round them, like a 
 shroud binding their two bodies together. It fright- 
 ened her for a moment to be so close to him, and to 
 feel the reality of his breast rising and falling stormily 
 beneath her, as she half leaned, half lay in his arms. 
 It was as if she had put her hand on the pulse of 
 life, and shook to know its power. 
 
 The pagan warmth of the earth was their inheritance, 
 and the darkness the lure rather than the veil of irre- 
 claimable Nature. But the law of the Garden of Eden 
 remained the same as when it had been first uttered in 
 awful certainty 
 
 " And ye shall be as Gods, knowing Good and Evil."
 
 148 The Story of Eden 
 
 Day rose golden over the vineyard, taking the earth 
 by storm, and drenching the stripped vines in a bath 
 of sunshine. The outlined mountains were transparent 
 purple against a far blue sky, and all the view green 
 trees, red-roofed cottages, and winding white roads 
 had caught the joyousness of morning and danced with 
 light. 
 
 A window went up in Vine Lodge, and some one 
 threw back the green shutters. Margery leaned out 
 and sniffed the morning, wondering at herself. She 
 had thought as she crept to bed the night before, that 
 the daylight would make her shudder, and had pictured 
 herself ashamed to wake up again. But she proved 
 the elasticity of uncondemned human nature, and with 
 the thought, " No one knows ! " came also relief, and a 
 sudden loss of guilt. Fear of discovery has a great 
 deal to do with virtue ; but not even fear of discovery, 
 or the world's loud-voiced condemnation, makes re- 
 pentance. The accuser must be within us to make his 
 voice really heard to be sorry that we are found out 
 is a very different thing to being sorry for what we have 
 done ! A confusion between the two has been one of 
 the scandals of morality. At this stage of her existence 
 Margery found that the backsliding of which no one 
 knew did not weigh heavier on her than thistledown. 
 She threw off her dread and dismay with the night, 
 and revelled in the new-created day. 
 
 " I shall go down and walk about the garden until 
 breakfast," she said, letting down the sunshiny mass of 
 her hair. As she did so she caught sight of her own 
 face in the glass, and flushed a sudden rosy red. " Oh, 
 thank God, no one knows ! " she exclaimed. " And it 
 will never happen again I won't even put myself in 
 a position where he has a chance to ask." 
 
 Even the criminal feels a chance of redemption in 
 the morning; Margery ate her breakfast as usual, 
 though she neglected her toast and drank her tea as if
 
 The Story of Eden 149 
 
 she were feverish. But as the hot day drew onward 
 she became more and more silent, and started guiltily 
 at every sound about the house. It was a mood due 
 to over-wrought nerves rather than remorse, and she 
 lost it momentarily when Polly Harbord came in about 
 the middle of the morning to give her the last flying 
 news of the neighbourhood. 
 
 " Mrs. Wrighton is suddenly coming out ! " she said. 
 " We are giving a tennis party next week. Could you 
 have believed it? I am sure I don't know what the 
 courts will be like. They have n't been played on for 
 ages." 
 
 " Get True to give you his valuable advice on the 
 subject," said Madge, amused and interested at once. 
 " But what a resurrection, Polly ! I thought Mrs. 
 Wrighton was in bed with something or other?" 
 
 " Nerves ! " said Polly, her eyes narrowing with 
 laughter. " So she was, but Doctor Langdon said she 
 needed distraction, and ought to rouse herself and see 
 more company. Hence we launch out ! " 
 
 " Was that your idea? " 
 
 " Well ! I only said I was dull, and I did wish we 
 ' kept more company,' as the cooks say ! " 
 
 " So he managed it for you. If Mrs. Wrighton 
 could but know ! Any more news ? You are better 
 than the morning paper ! " 
 
 "That 'snot much of a compliment, for the morn- 
 ing paper is half Mr. Rhodes and the other half adver- 
 tisements ! l I met Starling yesterday, she said she 
 had n't seen you for ages. She was going to hunt you 
 up ; but the Brawler and Silence Wright came to tea, so 
 she couldn't get away. I left her to it they are 
 neither of them friends of mine." 
 
 " I like Silence," said Margery, vaguely. " I meant 
 to go round to Friedenhof this afternoon, but I don't 
 think I shall." 
 
 * The Author declines to be responsible for any opinion ex- 
 pressed by the characters in this book.
 
 150 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " It 's so hot." ("I cannot go there just now ! " 
 she thought.) 
 
 " Oh, nonsense. Do go ! It will do you more good 
 than moping here. By the way, Major Vibart is back 
 he came back last night, late." 
 
 " Did he? " said Margery, lightly. " Who told you? 
 He ought to come and look me up to-day. It is 
 ages since he called." She wondered at her own 
 nerve. 
 
 " Perhaps he knows the Professor is away. He is a 
 great stickler for etiquette, you know." 
 
 "Is he?" Margery said with a laugh that startled 
 herself. "I don't suppose he is more so than 
 other men, and I fully expect to have visitors ! 
 Won't Mrs. Naseby gossip. What did you do last 
 night?" 
 
 " Positively nothing. Life is as dull as ditchwater." 
 
 " Polly, we are getting awfully frivolous and demora- 
 lised. If we have one day without anything doing, we 
 call it slow." 
 
 " Well, so it is. After all one must have amuse- 
 ments. I 'm sure our little tennis parties and enter- 
 tainments in general are innocent enough." 
 
 A sudden gravity wiped out Madge's dimples. " I 
 wonder if they are ! " she said. " When I first came 
 out, I was carried away by the whirl of things in which 
 I found myself, tennis parties and gymkanas and 
 dances and picnics. Now I take it all for granted; 
 but I find it very dull if nobody comes and nothing 
 happens. We all seem to live just for the things that 
 are going to take place next week, but for nothing 
 further ahead." 
 
 " We can only be young once. I said that to Beau 
 Livingston the other night, and he said that his ' once ' 
 was pretty well over, he thought. I knew he wanted 
 me to deny it, so I did n't."
 
 The Story of Eden 151 
 
 " He seems to have a fair time of it, young or not I 
 Have you seen much of him lately? " 
 
 " H'm a fair quantity." 
 
 " I thought you said " 
 
 " Yes, so I did. But he saw me home from the 
 Hearnes' the other night " 
 
 "And " 
 
 " Well, I have n't let him get any further for a long 
 time." 
 
 "And that night he did?" 
 
 " It was only at the gate, and no one saw.'' 
 
 The old consolation ! Madge had applied it to her- 
 self earlier in the morning. She wrinkled her smooth 
 forehead. " It 's the thin edge of the wedge," she 
 thought rapidly. " But she knows that as well as I do, 
 and I can't warn her from my own experience. And, 
 after all, what 's a kiss? " 
 
 "Well, you '11 come to our tennis, won't you?" Polly 
 said as she left. 
 
 " Of course. Whom have you asked ? " 
 
 "Oh, Starling, and the Hearne girls, and Mrs. 
 Naseby, and Major Yeats, and True, of course." 
 
 " Any one else ? " 
 
 " One or two men to make up, Beau Livingston, I 
 dare say." 
 
 " After the finale at the gate. I see." 
 
 " And Major Vibart, at least, I '11 see that he has 
 an invitation." 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself on my account. I am 
 going to explore Major Yeats. He is new to me, and 
 consequently interesting. I will cut Mrs. Drysdale out 
 while she is still a slave to the measles ! " 
 
 They parted, laughing, with the brave blue sky above 
 and the sunshine blazing into their bright, careless 
 faces. Polly jumped on her cycle and went zigzagging 
 off among the firs to the back gate, which was her 
 shortest way home, " Having a gymkana, on her own
 
 152 The Story of Eden 
 
 account," Madge said, and Madge herself sauntered 
 away down the garden among the little red roses and 
 the white moonflowers. Her spirits fell again with 
 Polly's departure ; some horror of memory seemed to 
 hang about the garden and drove her indoors. She 
 would not look at the vineyard, but went back to the 
 drawing-room and began to practise. Unfortunately 
 all the songs on the piano had been chosen for Vibart's 
 benefit, and bore his preference upon them. " I do 
 not feel as if I could ever face him in the day again," 
 thought Madge, as she began to play the symphony 
 of a ballad called " Lovelace." The words were Raffa- 
 lowich's, and had been set for her long ago by a friend 
 in England. Her thoughts ran on to Vibart, while her 
 hands passed mechanically over the notes. " I wonder 
 what he will do or say when we meet ! It is bound to 
 be awkward for us both. He will try to say he is sorry, 
 and then I shall want to kill him ! Oh, I won't see 
 him for some time ; that will be best. I can easily 
 avoid him, as he will probably be doing the same thing 
 by me." She began to sing 
 
 " ' Why do you come to-night, to-night, 
 So many miles of wind and rain ?' 
 ' Oh, but I come with much delight 
 
 To your warm, sheltering nest again I ' 
 
 " ' Why do you come to-night, to-night ? 
 
 It might mean death to both of us ! ' 
 ' Oh, but I come with much delight, 
 All things I love are dangerous.' 
 
 " ' Why do you come ? Do you forget 
 
 Who broke my heart so long ago ?* 
 4 Oh, but since then my lips have met 
 
 No sweetness like your saying, ' " No " ' " 
 
 The last line of the song drowned the opening of the 
 door, but through the final chords she heard the ser- 
 vant say, " Majore Vibet ! " and started up from the 
 piano as the door closed.
 
 The Story of Eden 153 
 
 He came into the room smiling gaily, and as she 
 rose, he caught her up in his arms and kissed her, mur- 
 muring two words in her ear before he set her down 
 that brought the blood up over her face and neck. 
 There was no consciousness of any awkward situation 
 about him, as Madge had expected, and his unabashed 
 confidence left her breathless. He smiled down upon 
 her as if in triumph, while she stood before him rosy 
 and tongue-tied. 
 
 " I have only a few minutes, little one, but I felt I 
 must just have a glimpse of you ! " he said. " I am due 
 at the Camp now, and we have been out all the morn- 
 ing." She noticed in a bewildered fashion that he was 
 in full uniform. The glitter of his spurs, and the various 
 metals which rmamented his broad person, caught 
 the light and seemed to jingle and dance before her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Jack, how very splendid you are ! " she gasped, 
 half laughing. "I did n't expect you in to-day ! " 
 
 " No, and I am afraid I can't come to-night," he 
 said, with an outspokenness from which Madge winced. 
 " If I can, I will, of course. Leave the morning-room 
 window open as long as possible, dear ; and sit there, 
 will you? But that wasn't what I wanted to say. 
 Look here, how long will your brother be away ? " 
 
 " A fortnight at the outside." 
 
 "Well, I want you to come away with roe for one 
 .night at least. You can manage that, can't you ? " 
 
 She gasped. " Oh, no ! No ! how could I ? " 
 
 " You are clever enough, if you want to, I '11 swear I 
 Suppose we go to Hout's Bay?" 
 
 " It is so near ! The next time I went I should be 
 recognised. Besides I " 
 
 " It won't matter ; we need n't go together. Drive 
 over in the afternoon and stay the night. I '11 come 
 down later, when there is no fear of excursionists." 
 
 " But I could n't go alone."
 
 154 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Take one of your servants." 
 
 "HowcouMIl" 
 
 " Well, perhaps it is risky." He paused to consider, 
 but had not, as Madge hoped, abandoned his project. 
 "I will supply you with a maid," he said, after a mo- 
 ment's thought. "She can meet you somewhere on 
 the road. Only don't ask any questions." 
 
 "But afterwards?" 
 
 " She is going Home next Wednesday, worse luck ! 
 Otherwise we might have made use of her chaperonage 
 again ! " and he actually laughed. 
 
 " I suppose I can do it," Madge said slowly. " I 
 can say I spent the night with the Villiers in Cape 
 Town ; they are also going Home on Wednesday." 
 
 " Capital ! I said you could do it if you liked. 
 You are such a bright little girl, Madge ! When I first 
 saw you I said to myself, ' That girl is not only the 
 prettiest I have seen, she has got brains.' What 
 the French call 'Savour faire/ and we cannot trans- 
 late, because you so seldom find an English woman 
 possessed of it." 
 
 Madge was pleased. Vibart's flattery always con- 
 trived to reach her weak points. She felt a sense of 
 added importance, as if she were a woman of the world 
 conducting an intrigue. The more vulgar forms of ex- 
 pressing it roused a sense of morality and consequent 
 restrictions. She felt that she was entering into the 
 spirit of the escapade, as she said, with a little smile : 
 " Then I suppose I am not to recognise you even when 
 you turn up at the Hotel?" 
 
 " Of course not. Very likely you '11 have gone to 
 bed before I arrive, but perhaps I shall appear in the 
 dining-room for something to eat. I don't suppose 
 there will be any one staying in the Hotel except our- 
 selves at this time of the year." 
 
 " But how are we to speak to each other at all, then ? " 
 
 "Don't you remember the balcony?" he said sig-
 
 The Story of Eden 155 
 
 nificantly. "All the front rooms open out onto it. 
 Don't let them put you at the back, that 's all ! " 
 
 " Oh, Jack, I " 
 
 She wished he had not been quite so skilful in sur- 
 mounting difficulties. There seemed to be a devilish 
 facility about it all. The only obstacle lay in the 
 making the servants believe that she was going to Cape 
 Town while she journeyed in the contrary direction, 
 and she saw that this could be overcome by driving out 
 to Hout's Bay along a somewhat circuitous route. 
 
 " I must be off ! " Vibart said hurriedly. " Good- 
 bye, dearest ! That 's all arranged then Friday, at 
 the Hotel ! Of course I '11 come round if I can before 
 that, but they are working me like the devil just now, 
 worse luck ! Good-bye again " 
 
 With her lips still tingling from his kiss, Madge 
 watched him walk down the steps, take his horse from 
 the Kaffir boy, and ride away in the sunshine. As soon 
 as his overmastering vitality was removed from her, she 
 looked back in dismay at what she had promised. She 
 did not like to turn back indeed she began to fear 
 that even if she wrote to say she had changed her mind, 
 the next personal interview would sweep her protests 
 on one side again. Where were her resolutions of this 
 morning ? Where was her determination to never even 
 run the risk of She stood at the window looking 
 blindly out at the sunny green garden, and warring 
 with the thought that to everything that he had asked 
 her, she had meant to say, No ! and that she had 
 said, Yes !
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 " They call it Eden where those lovers met." 
 
 THE way ran for some distance between the fir-trees, 
 along a road where the pencilled shadows of the after- 
 noon were lengthily drawn on the red dust. Through 
 the dark stems of the trees, and over the plumbago 
 hedges, was a glimpse of stripped vines, for here 
 stretched the famous vineyards of Constantia. Beyond 
 Constantia, the road began to rise, until it wound round 
 the mountain and over Hout's Bay Nek. 
 
 Margery sat at the back of the Cape cart in silence, 
 and hardly looking about her. The hood of the cart 
 was up to keep off the sun when they came into the 
 open, but even while they were still going through the 
 firs she kept her sunshade up as an additional guard, 
 and shrank if any one came in view. Once, as they 
 turned aside from one road into another, she had an 
 alarm, two horses were coming along the road they 
 had left, walking side by side through the fretted sun 
 and shade, and the sound of voices and light laughter 
 floated after Margery. Suppose it was some one who 
 recognised her, and they were coming this way ! She 
 had not fully recognised that she ran any risk of detec- 
 tion until that moment. A hurried explanation of her 
 presence there flashed through her mind should she 
 say this or that ? Either story was improbable, but 
 in her desperation she must decide on something. She 
 glanced at her equally silent companion, and wondered 
 how she could best account for this respectable, comely 
 woman sitting beside her ! Then she became aware 
 that the riders had continued their way, and "rr nn* 
 following the cart, and with a sigh of relief she raised
 
 The Story of Eden 157 
 
 her sunshade a little to look after them and see who 
 they were. She recognised the slim dust-coloured 
 figure of Miss Montfort, who always wore a holland 
 skirt, and a minute later she saw that her companion 
 was Valentine Cayley. Vague reports that she had 
 heard of these two flashed back on her mind had 
 not some one said, " Cayley is running his head into a 
 noose. Why the deuce does n't he make a bolt of it, 
 and get free of her ! Thought he asked for work Up 
 Country? " Though she did not know him personally, 
 she felt vaguely sorry as her eyes followed the two 
 figures. Miss Montfort's reputation was even less 
 lovely than Mrs. Cromo Dame's, and V. C. was kindly 
 spoken of by those who knew him. If she had realised 
 her own connection with his fate, she might have been 
 more sorry still, but after a minute she forgot the couple 
 who had ridden on towards Wynberg, and looked again 
 covertly at her spurious " maid." The woman had 
 said next to nothing ; her manner was perfectly re- 
 spectful, and she had taken the onus of the journey 
 on herself with quiet capability, engaging the cart and 
 looking after the slight baggage they had with them. 
 Margery wondered who she was, and what she thought? 
 But the last speculation was intolerable ; she put it from 
 her quickly, and looked at the material things round 
 about. 
 
 They had left Constantia behind by now, and were 
 driving more slowly, up an ascent between plantations 
 of silver trees. On either side of the open road the 
 whispering, frosted leaves shimmered whitely in the 
 sunlight, or alternated in waves of silver light and 
 greyish shadow as the wind passed over them. A mile 
 or so more and the road was steeper, the ascent slower 
 they were nearing the Nek, and behind them lay a 
 view before which Madge held her breath anew when- 
 ever she saw it, though she had been here before. In 
 the distance were the blue sea and the white sand of
 
 158 The Story of Eden 
 
 Muizenburg, but all the hollow land immediately be- 
 neath them was full of wood and vineyard and farm- 
 land, bounded by the soft green velvet of the mountain- 
 sides. It was as if she saw the Garden of Eden in a 
 cup, held in the hand of God, and she looked upon it 
 as upon the scene of the most vivid portion of her life, 
 as yet. It was a little spot to have held so big a tragedy, 
 for to her single existence, at any rate, the immediate 
 past had been a thunderous thing, a larger experience 
 than she had ever before encountered, and she vaguely 
 recognised its tragic side, already. The nobility of 
 great events is too large for comedy, even to the most 
 elementary of human beings. 
 
 The cart paused on the crest of the Nek to breathe 
 the horses. It was then that Madge looked back, sit- 
 ting in silence beside her silent companion. After a 
 few minutes the dark-skinned driver called to his rough 
 ponies, and they went on again, down a winding road 
 that took them rapidly below the summit and hid the 
 east side of the Peninsula from their view. From this 
 point until they reached the Hotel the scene was uncul- 
 tivated Africa, rough grass and tall rank flowers, purple 
 and flame-colour, and here and there a low desolate 
 building with white walls and a zinc roof set down in 
 the waste. Margery looked at it all and saw it not ; her 
 thoughts, by some freak of her brain, had flown to 
 Vibart, and dwelt on him with a new yearning tender- 
 ness, unconscious that he was but a temporary image 
 set up to fill the aching emptiness of a godless shrine. 
 A faint trouble stirred in her, as the sap stirs in the 
 young trees. For the first time, she was regretful of 
 their indefinite relations, and her face flushed again at 
 the memory of his two words in her ear after the night 
 in the vineyard. What he had said was, " Little 
 Wife ! " Alas ! Alas ! In the background of her 
 mind she saw a dream-home, with rosy children whose 
 hair was as bright as his, and their eyes his eyes. Then
 
 The Story of Eden 159 
 
 she blushed again as at her own presumption, and then 
 again her new-found maternity rose up in self-defence. 
 Was she not his wife by right of every desire and 
 Nature? The passion of her love shook her, and 
 swept her into a fervour as of religion, but the emotion 
 which she felt, though she knew it not, was detachable 
 from Vibart, who only served in reality as the image in 
 the shrine. " We cannot go against Nature," she said 
 to herself, reflecting his often- repeated creed. " It is, 
 after all, the most holy thing, far holier than mere 
 forms and ceremonies and conventional restrictions. 
 He is mine, and I am his. The sanctity of love rati- 
 fies all things." 
 
 The cart turned suddenly to the left, drove between 
 coarse green fields, and stopped in an open space of 
 sandy gravel before the Hotel. It was built at an ir- 
 regular angle, one portion of the house branching off 
 into the servants' quarters, and the other being a long 
 solid block with a row of large trees planted close 
 against the stoep so that the branches overshadowed 
 the broad wooden balcony above. All the front rooms 
 overlooked this balcony by long windows which opened 
 onto it, so that the occupants used it as a mode of 
 entrance and egress more than the doors, and de- 
 scended onto the stoep, and in and out of the Hotel by 
 the flight of wooden steps at the corner of the angle. 
 Margery got down from the cart and stood looking 
 round her with a curious insensibility, as of one who 
 walks in their sleep. She heard her companion speak 
 to the driver as she paid him, and then go before her 
 and arrange about rooms. " My young lady would 
 prefer a bedroom facing this way, if you please," she 
 said quietly. Margery thought what a pleasant, well- 
 trained voice and manner she had. "And my own 
 room to be behind it on the other side of the pas- 
 sage ? Yes, thank you, that will do very well. Shall I 
 take your bag up, Miss? Perhaps you would like to 
 look at the rooms."
 
 160 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Thank you ! " said Margery, and followed her in 
 the same sleep-walking fashion. 
 
 The rooms were airy and fresh ; and Margery saw 
 her bag unstrapped and unpacked by skilful hands, and 
 then the woman asked if she should tell the people 
 at the Hotel to send her up some tea. " There are 
 rather a noisy set of excursionists here sometimes, 
 Miss," she said. " Perhaps you might not care for the 
 dining-room ! " 
 
 Margery accepted the hint. " No," she said. " I 
 would rather have it here. Please have yours upstairs 
 too, if you would prefer it." 
 
 "Thank you, Miss. Is there anything more you 
 want?" 
 
 " Nothing, thank you." The woman had reached 
 the door when she spoke again with an effort, and in a 
 lower tone. " What am I to call you? " 
 
 " My name is Caroline, Miss ! " The words came 
 after a slight pause. 
 
 " Thank you, Caroline. Do you know my name ? " 
 
 " No, Miss? I thought it was Mortimer! " 
 
 John Mortimer Vibart ! Margery turned her face to 
 the open window and the tree-locked balcony beyond, 
 and breathed with a sense of difficulty. 
 
 " Is that the name you have given here ? " she said. 
 
 "Yes, Miss!" 
 
 " Then that is quite right." 
 
 She heard the door shut behind her, but she did not 
 move. She leaned against the window frame clenching 
 her hands and afraid that she was going off into hysteri- 
 cal laughter. She thought afterwards that it must have 
 been quite five or ten minutes before a sense of self- 
 mastery came over her, and with a sigh she stepped 
 out of the window onto the balcony, and sat down on 
 one of the old basket chairs which stood out there in 
 all weathers. A Kaffir girl brought her her tea there, 
 and she drank it, looking and listening, in the same
 
 The Story of Eden 161 
 
 mechanical fashion, to the sights and sounds of the 
 Hotel. A pleasure-party had been there to lunch, and 
 had spent the afternoon on the beach; between the 
 branches of the trees she looked down on the carts 
 which had brought them, and saw the horses put in 
 again, and the tourists assembling. Two men stood in 
 the sand beyond the stoep, talking ; their voices rose 
 clearly to the balcony where she sat. " It is very hot/' 
 said one, " as warm as we had it in February." 
 
 " Yes," said the other, " but I think the summer is 
 about over. We shall have rain next week." 
 
 Madge looked up at the speckless blue sky, and 
 wondered. The mountain-side rose sheer behind the 
 Hotel and shut it in, but in the front, where she was 
 sitting, the view went over rough fields and stony road 
 to a distant prospect of tree-tops. Beyond this lay the 
 Bay and the white sand, but they could not be seen. 
 Through the distance, however, the intermittent sound 
 of the sea came up on the afternoon stillness, as if 
 some mighty thing breathed in its sleep. 
 
 By and by the carts drove away, the pleasure-seekers 
 laughing and talking and waving handkerchiefs. The 
 wheels died out on the sandy road, and a quiet hush 
 fell over everything as the sun went down, filling the 
 clefts of the mountains with brown shadows and fiery 
 red lights from his deathbed. There was nothing 
 animated or active in all the scene, but the white 
 figure of the girl on the broad wooden balcony was the 
 quietest thing there. Her thoughts went out and lost 
 themselves in distance, travelling over the infinite miles 
 which lay around her, until the realisation that she 
 was momentarily alone in a great Continent gave her a 
 sense of fright, the lost, desolate feeling of those who, 
 accustomed to living in a small country, find themselves 
 in a big one. England looked a dot in the sea to her 
 imagination ; there was something limited in its very 
 views. She went back in memory, and saw the country 
 
 IX
 
 1 62 The Story of Eden 
 
 always bounded by little low hills and warm wooded 
 slopes that shut her in. It was safe and small, as her own 
 life had been. Here, in Africa, there was infinite room 
 to stray and she had strayed. She had lost her 
 sense of boundaries, and for the first time the impres- 
 sion of being in a savage, alien land struck down upon 
 her as if it came from the granite mountains. The 
 ragged pasture-land opposite, two horses and a mule 
 were grazing scantly there, and the stunted wilderness 
 that lay round the Hotel, suggested uncivilised Nature. 
 What must it be like Up Country, if even here, within 
 twenty or thirty miles of Cape Town, the land looked 
 like an unfinished draft of a world ! 
 
 Suddenly it grew dark, for there is no twilight there 
 after the sun is down. The shadow of the mountains 
 wrapped the Hotel in intense loneliness ; the patter of 
 a dog's feet on the stoep, and some one giving an 
 order, became startlingly distinct. Margery rose with a 
 shrinking glance at the rustling branches of the trees 
 which were growing black with the coming night, and 
 went into her bedroom. It was but a step through the 
 open window, how easy an entrance from the bal- 
 cony ! She lit a candle and brushed her hair, still 
 with that curious sense of unreality, which even seemed 
 to hush her footfall down the long passage with its 
 blank rows of doors on either side. Doors ! what 
 might not lie behind them? She paused at the head 
 of the stairs and looked back at them fascinated. One 
 opened, and the quiet, tangible figure of Caroline came 
 out into the passage, following her. 
 
 "Will you have dinner now, Miss?" said the well- 
 trained voice, " it is getting on for seven." 
 
 " Yes, please. I think you had better come down 
 and have something to eat with me, Caroline. Is 
 there any one else in the Hotel ? " 
 
 " Thank you, Miss. No, I don't think there are 
 any other visitors."
 
 The Story of Eden 163 
 
 Her surmise proved correct ; the long gaunt dining- 
 room was empty. It looked like a great lecture hall 
 with its enormous uncurtained windows, and bare floor. 
 "The sort of place where we should give school-feasts 
 and charity dinners at Home ! " thought Madge, as she 
 walked across to one of the little tables in the window. 
 The blinds were down ; but she knew, for she had seen 
 the room by daylight, that if she could have looked out 
 she would have seen the loose stones and rubble of the 
 mountain lying outside, and the steep ascent rising im- 
 mediately beyond. There were only two of the chan- 
 deliers alight; the further end of the room was in 
 shadow, and a single waiter appeared in answer to 
 their summons. It was infinitely deserted. 
 
 Margery and Caroline faced each other on either 
 side of the narrow white cloth. Now and then Mar- 
 gery glanced at the self-contained face opposite her, and 
 speculated as to the woman's age, her circumstances, 
 and her thoughts. But her scrutiny told her nothing. 
 They exchanged half-a-dozen remarks, but the sound 
 of their voices in the empty space was startling, and 
 they instinctively spoke under their breath, which gave 
 an added impression of stealthiness. As Margery was 
 finishing her meal, she heard voices in the Hotel 
 entrance, though she had missed the sound of wheels, 
 which were probably muffled in the soft sand, and a 
 minute afterwards another visitor entered and sat down 
 on the other side of the room. Margery lowered her 
 eyes, and played with the stem of her wine-glass, trying 
 to think of some commonplace remark to make to her 
 companion, while her ears were painfully conscious of 
 every tone of Vibart's voice as he ordered his dinner. 
 She finished her own with difficulty, and pushing away 
 her plate, said something to Caroline about going to 
 her room. 
 
 " I will see that it is all ready for you, Miss," returned 
 the woman, with the same perfection of respect, and 
 preceded her.
 
 164 The Story of Eden 
 
 Margery did not glance towards the other visitor as 
 she left the dining-room. She went up to the balcony 
 again, and leaned on the railing round it, and when 
 Caroline came and told her that her room was all 
 ready for the night, dismissed her, and said she wanted 
 nothing more. 
 
 She heard the clock strike eight and then half past, 
 while she still leaned on the balcony in the darkness. 
 A half moon came up slowly, and made the world a 
 ghostly place, and the awful insistence of the stony 
 mountains was as full of expression as the Sphinx. It 
 sank into Margery's soul until she was permeated with 
 the vast immutability, and stood there as if herself 
 petrified. She did not want to move or speak ; when 
 a heavy tread sounded on the wooden stair, she stirred 
 impatiently, but did not turn her head. Vibart came 
 along the balcony cautiously and stopped beside her. 
 
 " Well, so you got here all right ! " 
 
 The eager commonplace brought her back from the 
 abstracted mood stealing over her to present things. 
 With a half sigh she yielded to the arm round her 
 waist, and leaned her head back against his shoulder. 
 
 " Jack, what a vast country this is ! " 
 
 " Large enough. I rode over, you drove, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What time did you get here ? " 
 
 " About five or half past. I sat here for ages, a 
 hundred years I think, and watched the mountains." 
 
 " It was awfully good of you to come ! I hope you 
 weren't very bored. I didn't dare to come down 
 before. Margery, my darling, I can never thank you 
 for this ! " 
 
 She tried to reach the warm human atmosphere, and 
 escape the influence of the inexpressible mountains 
 and elementary earth ; but she felt as if she touched 
 him, through a veil. Something had swept her away
 
 The Story of Eden 165 
 
 from mere vitality ; she was alive in the spirit, as well as 
 in the body, and it separated them. She could only 
 be passive, and let him satisfy himself with caresses, 
 for she felt she could not help him. 
 
 " You know I would n't harm you in the least," he 
 kept on saying, as if he were almost uneasy. " I knew 
 I should n't do you any harm, or I would n't have 
 asked you to come. You trust me, don't you, 
 Madge?" 
 
 " Of course, dear." She wondered that he troubled 
 himself on the matter, when she, for the moment, was 
 so utterly calm. The doubts and fears had formerly 
 been hers, and it had been Vibart who had smoothed 
 them away. 
 
 " And you love me ? " 
 
 " Ar' n't you tired of the assurance yet?" 
 
 " No ! Madge, do you know I 'm fonder of you 
 than of any other woman who has been in my life ? " 
 
 " I am glad of that." She did not disturb herself 
 for the suggestion of there being other women, though 
 she knew that they were probably many. She had 
 imbibed his tenet that a man must have many loves. 
 
 " I was n't nearly so fond of you at first, you 
 know ! " he acknowledged with a little laugh. " Are 
 you cross ? " 
 
 " Not a bit ! I don't care any more than you do ! " 
 
 " If you care as much as that, it 's a precious big 
 deal ! I can't bear the thought of leaving you it 's 
 an awful fag having to go Home just now." 
 
 The crickets were singing loudly in the dust and the 
 grass clumps, on the mountain head a sullen red glare 
 proclaimed a bush fire, and the sea's voice was fitfully 
 audible through the night. Madge looked at the bush 
 fire and the cold white moonlight, with all the pleasure 
 of an art-lover in a harmonious contrast. She felt as 
 though, while her lips talked to Vibart, her soul talked 
 somehow to the mountains.
 
 1 66 The Story of Eden 
 
 " But we always knew you would have to go some 
 day, Jack. And we have been very happy ! " 
 
 " Have I made you happy, darling ? Say that again, 
 won't you ! You don't know how I hate to think of 
 going away." 
 
 "You might come back again!" said Margery, 
 dreamily. She was half remorseful that she felt no 
 sharper pang of pain at the mention of his going. 
 Did she not care ? Of course she cared it was only 
 that she did not realise it ! why, she loved him ! It 
 was the great passion of her life, the love that sancti- 
 fied all things. She forced it on her mind as if by 
 repetition she could prove its reality. 
 
 " I am afraid it 's not likely, unless there were a war," 
 he said, sending a mouthful of smoke out into the night 
 that caught the moonlight and gleamed whitely. He 
 was smoking a cigar, and Margery sniffed the scent 
 appreciatively. " No, we are more likely to meet in 
 England. You are sure to come Home some day ! " 
 
 " Not at all sure, with Anthony. He cannot live in 
 England in the winter, so through some oblique pro- 
 cess of reasoning he thinks it unnecessary to come 
 Home in the summer ! Apropos of nothing, Jack, I 
 met that Mr. Cayley who is in your Regiment on my 
 way here this afternoon." 
 
 " Did he see you ? " 
 
 " No, he was riding with Miss Montfort, and they 
 turned aside and went by another road before they 
 passed me." 
 
 " V. C. seems to be going far and fast in that direc- 
 tion," said Vibart, in an amused tone. He seemed 
 perfectly satisfied to know it. 
 
 " Yes, it is rather a pity, is n't it? " 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " She is reported something of an adventuress ; but she 
 is a friend of the Cromo Dames, so people are obliged to 
 accept her. Do you know, I was very jealous of Mrs. 
 Cromo Dame once ? I don't know that I am not still ! "
 
 The Story of Eden 167 
 
 " She is a handsome woman, but you need n't 
 trouble your head about her." 
 
 " Need n't I? Are you ever jealous? " 
 
 " Awfully ! I should like to shoot all those boys 
 and old Johnnies that Livingston insists made love to 
 you at Home ! " 
 
 " Mr. Livingston talks nonsense and sometimes 
 stumbles over the truth. But my love-affairs were very 
 harmless. I used to write to three boys, and one old 
 man asked me to marry him. That 's all ! " 
 
 " Except for the details ! " 
 
 " Well, I f m sure you need n't talk ! Think of the 
 details there must be in your own past ! " 
 
 " I never kissed an old lady anyhow ! " 
 
 "You don't know that I " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Jack, I do think you are horrid ! and you said 
 you were n't jealous ! " 
 
 Vibart's suppressed laugh almost startled her. " I 'm 
 not not over your poor little sins in the past, any- 
 how ! I might not be so easy ten years hence. You '11 
 do a lot in ten years, Madge ! " 
 
 "Do you think I shall?" asked Margery, in real 
 amusement. " I wonder ! " 
 
 They were silent again, while the mountains slowly 
 reasserted their ascendency over Margery, until a clock 
 striking ten roused her. " I must go to bed ! " she 
 said. " I 'm afraid of being seen or heard talking to 
 you." She hesitated awkwardly. " Good-night, Jack ! " 
 she said softly. 
 
 " Look here, I 'm going down to get a drink," he 
 said, as he kissed her. " I don't want to be late, my- 
 self. Madge ! " he bent his head in the darkness 
 and whispered " Lock your door, and leave your 
 window unfastened ! " 
 
 She buried her face on his breast for an instant, then 
 turning away went into her room.
 
 1 68 The Story of Eden 
 
 Vibart went down the steps again; she heard his 
 descending foot as she undressed and got into bed. 
 Through habit, she knelt down beside the bed in her 
 night-gown, and clasped her hands. No words came 
 to her lips, and, with a shudder of fear, she rose up again 
 without praying. For a moment she thought, " I can 
 pray afterwards, and ask to be forgiven ! " then, with a 
 revulsion of feeling, she thrust the thought away. " At 
 least I will be honest," she said. " If I am wicked, I 
 won't try and cheat God by saying I did n't mean to 
 be ! I don't think it is wicked. It 's Nature you 
 can't go against Nature." Vibart's creed again. 
 
 She had left one side of the window open, and the 
 blind was up. As she lay in bed, she could see the 
 night sky over the tree-tops, and hear the crickets sing. 
 The forceful impression of the mountains representing 
 Africa came back upon her, and she fell into another 
 trance under the influence of their nearness. The long 
 implacable stony range seemed always present in her 
 mind, an insistent declaration of unalterable character. 
 The very barrenness of the hard outlines against the 
 empty sky accentuated it. It was immovable, eternal, 
 filled with audible silence and a vast sense of space, 
 and this also was a type of the strength of Nature. . . . 
 The moonlit sky was blotted out from her eyes by a 
 dark figure. As it had filled the pale opening of the 
 vine arbour on the night when she had first met him 
 there, so it seemed again to fill the horizon. A hand 
 pushed back the window a little further, and Vibart 
 stepped into the room. . . .
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " Will she cling to me as kindly, 
 
 When the childish love is lost f 
 Will she pray for me as blindly, 
 
 Or but weigh the wish and cost 
 Looking back on our lost Eden from the girlhood she has crossed 1 
 
 MRS. WRIGHTON'S tennis afternoon came off at the end 
 of the following week. It was very largely attended, 
 mainly through curiosity, for the invalid widow had 
 not entertained within the memory of the present 
 three-years' generation of the Social World. Three 
 years is a fair average for that society, partly because 
 people rarely stay longer without going Home, partly 
 because that is the usual limit for the Gun-boats and 
 the Regiments to remain before they are moved on to 
 the next station. Mrs. Wrighton's incentive towards 
 the mild dissipation of tea and tennis had blown as 
 lightly across the suburbs as the gold-dust on the petals 
 of the Narina, and Wynberg and Rondebosch went 
 to laugh at Dr. Langdon's strategic diversion in the 
 monotony of attending her fancied ailments. Polly 
 Harbord was really the mainspring of the entertain- 
 ment ; she poured out the tea, and worked the affair, 
 while Mrs. Wrighton sat in a reclining chair, wrapped 
 in a silken shawl, and said she felt the undertaking 
 very much after her reclusive habits. 
 
 " This is a capital advertisement for Miss Harbord's 
 capabilities as a hostess ! " said Mrs. Naseby, in her 
 small sharp-edged voice. She happened to speak 
 to Madge, who remembered Starling's simile of the 
 vinegar bottle with the stopper left out, and smiled 
 involuntarily.
 
 170 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Yes, she does it capitally ! " she agreed with inten- 
 tional amiability. 
 
 " Poor girl ! how unfortunate she has always been 
 over her lovers ! They have always fallen off. I am 
 sure I can't think why, for she would make a very 
 capable wife, I am sure. I wish some steady, nice 
 man would take a fancy to her ! " 
 
 " Oh, well, there 's hope for us yet, Mrs. Naseby ! " 
 said Madge, with a flash of demure mischief in her eyes. 
 " Perhaps we may get a few more chances before we 
 have done ! " She looked across at Polly, pink-flushed 
 and daintily dressed, laughing over the tea-things with 
 Major Yeats. 
 
 " With you, of course, my dear ! " said Mrs. Naseby, 
 suavely. "You are quite a young girl. But with 
 Polly Harbord ! I don't know. Her fifth season, 
 you know ! " 
 
 " Really ? " Madge was getting bored with the pin- 
 pricks of gossip. What did it all matter, even to this 
 narrow, spiteful woman ! Were there not larger in- 
 terests of social life in which even she could interest 
 herself? 
 
 " Yes, really, quite five 1 Oh, I remember her first 
 appearance here ! I'm telling you the strict truth, my 
 dear. Most people think she looks so young that they 
 discredit it, but it 's a fact. Odd that she has n't mar- 
 ried, isn't it? And a girl has so many chances out 
 here. But she has been unfortunate. I really did 
 think she had caught young Leighton; she tries too 
 obviously, I think sometimes. It puts the men off. I 
 could tell you of a similar case not a hundred miles 
 away ! The girl literally ran the man into a corner, 
 and he was so disgusted he went off after all and left 
 her lamenting." 
 
 (" I must get rid of this woman," thought Madge, 
 wearily. " The taste she leaves in my mouth is too 
 entirely evil.") "I see the Dodds are back," she 
 remarked.
 
 The Story of Eden 171 
 
 " Yes, they came home last night. Mr. Dodd looks 
 well, does n't he ? They have been up to Johannes- 
 burg ; he has large interests there. Last year was a 
 terrible time for him, what with the Raid and the dyna- 
 mite explosion, and all. You know, of course, how he 
 made his money?" 
 
 "No," said Madge, carelessly, nodding to Starling 
 across a crowd of mutual acquaintances. " I don't 
 care either. In concerns me much more how he 
 spends it ! " 
 
 " Yes, of course, they entertain largely. He secures 
 a certain popularity in that way, and gets people to go 
 to his house, and so they shut their eyes to the Kim- 
 berley connection, and always speak of him as a Johan- 
 nesburg man. He did go there afterwards, and so the 
 original story was forgotten. Still one really wonders 
 if it is true ! I. D. B., you know ! " 
 
 " Excuse me, but Mrs. Dodd is beckoning to me ! " 
 
 Madge made her escape, gasping. A few minutes 
 more would probably have seen the destruction of half 
 the reputations and characters of the people there, and 
 she was wise in her generation and preferred to know 
 only their pleasant side. Starling and Mrs. Dodd 
 greeted her warmly, and Johnnie himself came up to 
 her, puffing out his greeting like a full breeze out for a 
 holiday. 
 
 "You're looking pale, Miss Madge!" he said. 
 " You ought to have come away with us. If I 'd known 
 that the Professor was off to the City of Saints, I 'd 
 have taken you, whether he liked it or not ! " 
 
 " He never told me until the Friday," said Madge. 
 "And he left on the Monday. I don't even know when 
 he will be back. He has been away nearly a fortnight, 
 but I have had no intimation of his return ! How did 
 you enjoy your trip? " 
 
 " Oh, splendid ! Always like John'isburg. I 'm on 
 my own ground there, you know. But it 's not so nice 
 for a residence as this part. It 's rough."
 
 ij2 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I thought they prided themselves on the gaiety of 
 their society ! " 
 
 " Poor devils, they 're not very gay now ! Last 
 year put a damper on them that they '11 take a while to 
 recover. They may perk up over the Jubilee. They 
 are pretty gay as a rule, I admit well, it is n't like 
 this, you know. It may be gay, but it 's a bit rowdy ! " 
 said Mr. Johnnie, with an explosion of laughter like the 
 bursting of a paper bag. " All money, you know, no 
 manners ! Unless you know the professional class. 
 They 're quieter. But the leaders of society there are 
 the people with the biggest pile, and the women think 
 more of choosing their gowns from Paris, than of choos- 
 ing their language. Fact ! You can't take your wife 
 to the public balls and be sure she won't see something 
 rather lively. I took Mrs. Johnnie once or twice, be- 
 cause she wanted to see. Woman's curiosity, you 
 know ! " 
 
 " But what happened? " 
 
 " Oh, well, one of our leading ladies got up and 
 insulted another, that 's all. She would n't dance in 
 the same set of lancers, so the first woman made per- 
 sonal remarks recommended her to keep her hands 
 clean ! " 
 
 " Mr. Johnnie ! " 
 
 " Fact. We thought there was going to be a jolly 
 big fight ! " He gave another paper-bag explosion. 
 " The men separated them. Mrs. Johnnie did n't want 
 to see many balls after that. Starling 's never been to 
 one. She was a flapper when we left John'isburg, and 
 only came out to this part of the Colony." 
 
 Mrs. Dodd turned round at this point, and asked 
 where Mrs. Drysdale was. 
 
 " Eric had the measles," said Margery. " And the 
 baby, too. I have n't seen Mrs. Drysdale for weeks. 
 They are both better, but she does n't go about yet." 
 
 " Why, you must have been quite stranded for com-
 
 The Story of Eden 173 
 
 pany ! " said Mrs. Johnnie, in her motherly way. 
 "Whatever did you do with yourself?" 
 
 Margery put her hand to the soft laces at her throat 
 with an instinctive gesture. "I saw Polly some- 
 times!" she said with an odd little laugh. "And 
 True." 
 
 " Ah, True is always the boy for looking after dis- 
 tressed damsels ! " returned Mrs. Johnnie, smiling. 
 " I 'm glad you saw True. Well, Mr. Livingston, and 
 how are you ? " 
 
 " Glad to see you back, Mrs. Johnnie ! Well, what 's 
 the news ? Hulloa, Dodd ! Been having any fresh 
 fights with railway guards ? You pugnacious savage ! 
 What 's the news on the Rand? Has Kruger got an- 
 other turn on the screw yet? " 
 
 " ' Confound his politics ' ! " quoted Mr. Johnnie, 
 cheerily. "Last year was a series of disasters, and 
 he is trading on them ! The only hope is, he will go 
 too far." 
 
 " Never mind, it must come to war sooner or later, 
 and then every one will get a chance," said Livingston, 
 airily. " Promotion is slow in the Duke's. Forrester 
 says that they daily offer up prayers for the continua- 
 tion of the Transvaal aggravation. Jack Vibart is 
 going Home, by the way." 
 
 " Yes, so we hear. When does he sail ? " 
 
 " Some time in June. Miss Cunningham, where 
 have you been? I have been playing tennis, and 
 wanted you for my partner. There is luck in our 
 union. I played with you on your first appearance, 
 you know ! " 
 
 " I remember, but we lost." A curious, wonder- 
 ing look fell into her eyes. The slits of blue between 
 the lashes widened into the perfect iris with the pupils 
 dilated. " Three months ago ! This is about the last 
 tennis we shall have, they say." 
 
 " Oh, the summer is over. Those rains at the be-
 
 174 The Story of Eden 
 
 ginning of the week told us that. You were talking to 
 Mrs. Naseby just now. Dear, kind-hearted soul ! 
 What did she say of me?" 
 
 " We did not get to you I fled ! " 
 
 " What a pity ! I always enjoy the reports of her 
 criticisms so much. Last week she told Drysdale that 
 I was in financial difficulties, and I am always glad to 
 know these things, because one should provide for the 
 winter. What was she desecrating this time ? " 
 
 " Polly's character as hostess." 
 
 " That is rather choice 1 because Miss Harbord is 
 known of old to be unassailable therein. What did 
 Mrs. Naseby say? " 
 
 " She said that she was telling me the absolute truth. 
 I do dislike people who tell me the truth, don't you ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! In fact I have always thought the best 
 thing to do with the truth was to suppress it. Facts 
 are so ill-bred." 
 
 " And so inartistic ! Talk of an angel ! Here comes 
 Mrs. Naseby herself, bearing down on us after the 
 fashion of a full-blown battle-ship. Can we escape?" 
 
 They could not, for the lady in question came to 
 anchor beside them at once. " Well, Mr. Livingston," 
 she said, " I saw you in Cape Town yesterday ! " 
 
 " I am often seen," said Beau, serenely. " It is a 
 habit of which I have never been able to break 
 myself." 
 
 " Perhaps, too, in this case you would wish to ! You 
 were with a lady ! " 
 
 " Ah, who was it ? " 
 
 " No one I know, no one I have ever seen about 
 here, a handsome woman in red." She looked ex- 
 pectantly at Beau, who lifted his hat in a particularly 
 charming manner to some one in the distance while 
 she spoke. 
 
 " And so," he said pleasantly, meeting her attentive 
 eyes with the frankest smile, " you saw me in Cape 
 Town, with a lady whom you didn't know in
 
 The Story of Eden 175 
 
 red." He looked at her still for a moment, his bril- 
 liant blue eyes a little wider than usual. " How fast ! " 
 he said, as though the criticism were forced from him. 
 Then he turned aside and shook hands with a passing 
 acquaintance. 
 
 " What does he mean? " Mrs. Naseby said in angry 
 helplessness to Madge. "I certainly saw him, and 
 he was with a woman who might have been any- 
 body." 
 
 " She probably was ! " retorted Madge. " It is an 
 inclusive word. I do not know what Mr. Livingston 
 meant. Personally, I never see my acquaintances un- 
 less I feel happy in the conviction that they see me." 
 
 " He has a very questionable character for that sort 
 of thing ! " said Mrs. Naseby, with subdued eagerness. 
 " You may not know it, I dare say a young girl like 
 you would not, but I should not be too intimate with 
 him if I were you. The Strattons had to send away 
 their nurse on his account. Such a nice- mannered, 
 satisfactory woman, too ! But she got mixed up with 
 Mr. Livingston, and of course they could not keep her. 
 I hear she sailed for England last week, but goodness 
 knows where she has been since she left them ! per- 
 haps Mr. Livingston does, though. Of course I am 
 only telling you this because, being without an older 
 woman as you are, it is kinder to put you on your 
 guard ! " 
 
 " Of course," said Margery, in an untranslatable tone, 
 "but don't you think that, as I am not supposed to know 
 of these things about my acquaintances (and I really 
 did not !), being, as you say, only a girl, that it would be 
 better to leave my ignorance to protect me?" As she 
 spoke, her eyes lit suddenly on Vibart, who was ap- 
 proaching her ; for a moment she paused with a sense 
 of horrible degradation, a shock, as if she faced her 
 own self. " Excuse me there is Major Vibart ! " 
 she said. " I want to ask him if he has seen Mrs. 
 Dodd ! " And she went to meet him.
 
 176 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Well, ma mie, how are you ! " he said, as he took 
 her hand and squeezed it. Vibart was a man who 
 never let any opportunity slip of expressing his physi- 
 cal emotion towards a woman. Affectionate demon- 
 strations came so easily to him that they hardly meant 
 anything more than a more restricted nature's simple 
 greeting. He was always gay, and charming, and de- 
 bonair, whatever undercurrent might be passing between 
 himself and one of the opposite sex. Indeed, Forrester 
 had once made a statement that became a tradition, 
 to the effect that the Tracker had held Mrs. Cromo 
 Dame's hand while he kissed Miss Montford in fancy, 
 and touched Polly Harbord's foot with his own, all 
 the while he talked politics with Johnnie Dodd ! It 
 was known as the three-card trick in the Duke's. 
 
 "I am all right," said Margery, absently. Her 
 thoughts were puzzling round a fragment of Mrs. 
 Naseby's scandal. "The Strattons had to send away 
 their nurse. Such a nice-mannered woman too ! She 
 left for England last week." Now the Strattons were 
 Rondebosch people, and Madge only knew them 
 slightly. She had never visited at their house, and 
 knew neither their children or their nurse by sight, 
 but a suspicion arose in her mind as to the identity of 
 the dismissed woman who had gone back to England, 
 and Caroline ! 
 
 " I am coming round to-night," Vibart whispered, as 
 they strolled towards the tennis courts. " I have n't 
 seen you for three days to speak to properly, my love, 
 and I 'm starving ! " He glanced down at her senti- 
 mentally, and his tone . lowered and softened with the 
 facile alteration in which he was a past master. 
 
 Margery came back from her speculation with a 
 start. She did not answer either his words or his eyes 
 for a second, and then forced herself to a dutiful up- 
 ward glance, wrestling with her own dismayed con- 
 sciousness that she wished he had not said he was 
 coming, that she did not look forward to the meet-
 
 The Story of Eden 177 
 
 ing ! It was not the first time that a horrible convic- 
 tion had dawned upon her, that at times she would 
 rather have been alone than have continued those 
 secret meetings. And yet she did continue them, 
 and had done so ever since her excursion to Hout's 
 Bay. With docile endurance she did whatever he 
 asked her, to the best of her ability, but the risks she 
 ran of detection, and the constant strain and excite- 
 ment of her life, made her feel dragged and tired. She 
 wished he had not mentioned one of those assigna- 
 tions ; it seemed to her that they never met but what 
 he referred in some way to the relations between them. 
 Furthermore, it was becoming every day a greater 
 dread in her mind that it was only endurance on her 
 part ; she got no pleasure from it, but she clung des- 
 perately to the devoting herself entirely to his wishes, 
 the more she felt that it wearied her. She shrank 
 horrified from her own satiety. True love knew no 
 such phase, and she had cosseted and petted the 
 thought that her passion for Vibart was as sacred as a 
 religion, until her whole self-esteem relied upon it. 
 For if this were not the one great passion of her life, 
 whose unique influence on her excused all sacrifices to 
 it, then what was she? She dared not face the 
 thought, and denied her own growing indifference. 
 She could not recognise the natural physical reaction 
 from her former warmth, because she had never ac- 
 knowledged that her feeling for Vibart was physical at 
 all. Even his teaching had not brought her as far as 
 that at present. With men, she acknowledged, the 
 material side of things might always be paramount, but 
 with women it was not so, especially not so in her 
 own case. By and by, when she was forced to recog- 
 nise a certain truth in his platitudes, the glib creed he 
 taught might discover that it had taken root in her 
 mind, and then it would bear fruit. 
 
 Vibart inculcated his own beliefs and experiences, 
 and destroyed her illusions, half unconsciously. It wa*
 
 178 The Story of Eden 
 
 the inevitable influence of the more developed character 
 upon the less, and he came as undesignedly to a men- 
 tal possession of her as he had to a physical. No man 
 is a deliberate villain. The consequences of a devia- 
 tion from law and order are too obvious, and too pro- 
 bably unpleasant. Vibart meant Margery Cunningham 
 no actual harm when he first began to pursue her 
 acquaintance ; he liked the sensual emotion which the 
 intercourse with her provoked, and beyond that he 
 was as indefinite in intention as Madge herself. He 
 let things drift, and would "just see," as she had done. 
 As he grew to know her more intimately, his attraction 
 increased, for Madge was a lovable little person, and 
 her freshness, and the satisfaction of feeling certain 
 that he was the first in her experience, was inevitably 
 fascinating to a man of Vibart's stamp. As his passion 
 grew, his tardy qualms of conscience vanished. He 
 spoke the truth when he said at the Beatrice dance 
 that he wished them to be " all in all " to each other, 
 and that his words implied an illicit love, he did not by 
 that time care. He would, if he could, have married 
 the girl ; she appealed, in the first place, to his senses, 
 but he had the wit to see that she had more lasting 
 powers of attraction than mere flesh and blood. He 
 was an affectionate fellow at bottom ; it was generally 
 through his easily moved feelings that he was entangled 
 with one woman or another. With Madge for his wife, 
 he would have been very happy in his home life, the 
 absence of which he really felt, though he never for an 
 instant deceived himself in thinking that he would be 
 faithful to her. " It is out of all reason for a man and 
 woman to stick solely to each other," he argued. " No 
 married couple ever did it and lived contentedly to- 
 gether. I am the first with Madge, but I shall not be 
 the last, if she marries, her husband won't be that. 
 I have only shown her what she must inevitably learn, 
 and widened her experience. She was unformed, but 
 she had infinite capabilities. She will be twice as
 
 The Story of Eden 179 
 
 alluring now." He preached this doctrine by de- 
 grees to Madge, during their intercourse, which had 
 been more intermittent than he intended, owing to 
 official causes. 
 
 The death of the Duke's Colonel, and the delay in 
 appointing a successor, had thrown additional work 
 onto his shoulders, and put a restraint upon many of 
 his private pursuits. It often happened that he re- 
 ceived news to change his plans at a minute's notice, 
 and communicated the same to Madge in a few words, 
 uttered under his breath, when they met in social high- 
 ways and byways, so that she had always to hold her- 
 self ready, and arrange her own engagements to suit 
 his, as far as was possible. She almost dreaded meeting 
 him at her friends' houses, for this reason, she al- 
 lowed so much to herself, but explained it under the 
 plea that the uncertainty made concealment of their 
 intercourse doubly difficult. She was, to her own hor- 
 ror, becoming a skilful prevaricator, and sometimes 
 she feared that her friends detected it. In the present 
 instance, there was an awkward factor in the situation. 
 
 "Polly is coming round to have dinner with me, 
 after she has got Mrs. Wrighton to bed again, she is 
 sure to collapse after this ! " she said. " What shall I 
 do, Jack? Will you come later? " 
 
 " Get rid of her after dinner. It 's a pity to lose an 
 opportunity while your brother is away. I can get off 
 to-night, and I do want to have a talk with you, pretty 
 one ! When will Cunningham be back?" 
 
 " I don't know, he has n't written. Don't come till 
 ten, Jack. Polly stays so long talking ! " 
 
 " All right. I can smoke in the arbour until I hear 
 her go." 
 
 " It 's a good thing that Kaffir servants don't chatter 
 like white ones ! " remarked Margery, with an inward 
 shrug at herself. "As far as using their intelligence 
 goes to make mischief, one treats them very much as
 
 i8o The Story of Eden 
 
 though they were dumb animals, and could n't speak ! 
 And yet, even though I do not believe they under- 
 stand much that is not said absolutely to them, they 
 must have grasped the situation sufficiently to think 
 something." 
 
 She turned with irrepressible relief to Captain Bar- 
 ton, and they all stood beyond the wire netting, chat- 
 ting, until Vibart was called away to play tennis. 
 
 He rarely lingered long at Madge's side in public, as 
 he had done before their greater intimacy ; but some- 
 times it became a question in her mind whether this 
 very carefulness was not marked and understood 
 by a Society by no means ignorant of such manoeuvres. 
 Even while she chatted gaily with Barton, the same 
 speculation crossed her mind, and she met his fine 
 shallow eyes and wondered what opinion of her lay be- 
 hind their surface friendliness. He began telling her 
 a joke relating to a mutual acquaintance, as only an 
 Irishman can, and their united laughter brought Beau- 
 mont Livingston into their neighbourhood. 
 
 "What are you laughing at?" he said. "I have to 
 hear people enjoying themselves when I 'in not in it. 
 Miss Cunningham, Mrs. Dodd says she wants to go 
 home and take you with her, and I have told her that 
 people ought not to have what they want, it is so bad 
 for them, particularly when it is chocolate almonds. 
 Did you see Barton clear the plate of them, by the 
 way? Don't deny it, Barton, because I can bring three 
 untrustworthy witnesses to prove it. Miss Cunningham, 
 surely you are not going to be immoral enough to in- 
 dulge Mrs. Dodd, and leave? " 
 
 " I really ought to begin saying good-bye, at any rate," 
 said Madge. "There are such a lot of people here 
 that I know, that I am sure I can't say where or when 
 I shall end I" 
 
 " If we should see the end we should never make 
 the beginning 1 " said Livingston, lightly. "The veil
 
 The Story of Eden 181 
 
 which shrouds the future shows the craftiness of a 
 Providence which does not wish the world to stand 
 still. You will end with Mrs. Naseby, who will poison 
 your last moments at this festive gathering by a re- 
 chauffe" of all our backslidings, past, present, and to 
 come? " 
 
 " I hope not indeed ! It is just what I wish to 
 avoid." 
 
 She spoke with a little shrug of distaste, for Mrs. 
 Naseby's opinions of her fellow-creatures had been 
 formed out of the refuse of many London seasons, and a 
 short sojourn among the converted Natives of a corner 
 of Pongo-land, whither her husband's malignant star 
 had led him. For if heathens could be so depraved 
 after a little teaching, to what depths must not a civ- 
 ilised and Christian community have slipped ? as ex- 
 emplified by her own experience. 
 
 The Professor returned to Wynberg at the end of the 
 month, with a cold and three new Coleoptera. He 
 came suddenly, as sorrows come, and Madge forbore 
 to ask how he had enjoyed his holiday, on account of 
 his obvious sense of injury in his present misfortune. 
 She preferred to judge from his protracted stay, and 
 abuse of everything in and about Wynberg, and was 
 thankful that the few hours' notice he gave her of his 
 arrival was sufficient to find everything in readiness for 
 him. As he came in from the stoep from the early dark 
 of a May evening, and she met him in the hall, she 
 was surprised to see him with new eyes, as a peevish, 
 elderly man, ill-tempered and selfish, but an unim- 
 portant object for fear. Had she ever dreaded him ? 
 Had she out-grown her fear during his absence ? In 
 what material way had their relations to each other so 
 far altered, that she took and gave greeting composedly, 
 and knew that, beyond grumbling at existence in 
 general, he would find no fault. She could not tell, 
 but was conscious of a subtle alteration in herself or
 
 1 82 The Story of Eden 
 
 her circumstances, which was but beginning. Her new. 
 found strength gave her the nerve to face, as she had 
 never dared to do, his possible discovery of the situation 
 between her and Vibart, and to plan and guard against 
 it. 
 
 The new Colonel arrived to take over the command 
 of the Duke's at the end of May, and Vibart left a fort- 
 night later. During his last week in Wynberg, all 
 Madge's energies were taxed to contrive their inter- 
 course, to manage the household of Vine Lodge so that 
 it should run smoothly, and to nurse her brother, whose 
 cold had developed sufficient virulence to drive him to 
 bed. He objected to his sister remaining in the room 
 with him ; but his habit of ringing his bell whenever he 
 lacked distraction, or thought she might be busy else- 
 where, kept her mind on the stretch. He was still 
 confined to his room when Vibart came to say good-bye, 
 before proceeding to Cape Town where he embarked. 
 
 It was a wet morning the first of the really broken 
 Winter weather ; the blinds were all up in the drawing- 
 room, which looked cold and chill without its accus- 
 tomed sunshine, in spite of the fire which Madge had had 
 lighted. She stood opposite to him on the hearth rug, 
 looking down into the glowing coals. Outside she 
 could hear the rain licking against the house and 
 thundering on the zinc roofing of the stoep with the 
 rattle of big drums. Now and then a great gust of 
 wind lifted it in streaming lines and drove it through 
 the fir-trees. The mountains were blotted out, and the 
 sky leaned low over the earth, heavy with moisture, and 
 with a bosom full of water. After their first kiss, Mar- 
 gery and Vibart had stood silent, as if by tacit consent, 
 facing each other, as if some reflection of their coming 
 estrangement had touched them already. 
 
 " It might be almost England, with the fire and the 
 rain ! " Margery said at last. 
 
 " Yes. Madge, will you "
 
 The Story of Eden 183 
 
 She knew from the increasing fulness of his tone 
 that he was going to ask some useless pledge of her, 
 and stirred with instinctive protest. Would she re- 
 member? yes, if she could not forget. Would she 
 care still? yes, she supposed so. It seemed inevi- 
 table. Had she wanted to weight her life with love for 
 him? 
 
 "Jack, don't ! " she said softly. " It is no use talk- 
 ing. We have nothing to say. We must just wait and 
 see." 
 
 " You '11 write to me, darling ? " 
 
 " Yes I suppose so." 
 
 " Only suppose so, Madge ! " 
 
 " Oh, how can one tell ! " she exclaimed in real quick 
 pain at last. "How long do human emotions last? 
 You have told me so often, yourself, that they never 
 do ! It must be all in all for the time being that 
 is the best one can hope for ! It must go, later. 
 Well, I 've given you everything ! " 
 
 " Yes, I know. You 've been an angel, and I 'm 
 utterly grateful. I love you more than any woman in 
 the world, Madge, and I believe I always shall." He 
 drew her into his arms and began to pet her. " Listen, 
 Sweet ! Your brother has some idea of coming Home, 
 either this year or next he told me so himself, and 
 you can guess I fostered the idea. Then we '11 meet 
 in Town and be together again." 
 
 "Yes ! " She tried to think that the hope was all 
 that kept her calm, and could have torn herself for her 
 own lack of feeling. " We '11 have that to look forward 
 to, Jack." 
 
 He laid his face down against hers, and they stood 
 so for a moment without speaking. 
 
 " There is Anthony's bell ! " Madge said suddenly. 
 She pushed him from her, and gave a queer little cough 
 as if to clear the catch in her breath. " Good-bye. I 
 hope you won't get very wet driving to the Station
 
 184 The Story of Eden 
 
 what a fearful day it is ! It can rain here ! Nature is 
 crying over your departure." 
 
 " I '11 telegraph when we start," he said, still hold- 
 ing her as if loth at the last to loose his arms. " Look 
 out for it, or it might fall into your brother's hands. 
 Good-bye, my own darling " 
 
 She meant to part without a further word, but at the 
 last some impulse made her clasp her hands behind his 
 handsome head and whisper, " Don't quite forget me, 
 Jack ! " She did not hear his answer. 
 
 The Professor's bell was ringing very angrily indeed 
 as she ran upstairs, without waiting to see Vibart leave 
 the house. She heard the hall door shut, but could 
 not look out of the window after the Cape cart which 
 took him to the Station through the blurr of the rain, 
 for attending to the Professor's exacting demands. 
 
 " Where have you been ? What on earth have you 
 been doing?" he burst forth as soon as she entered 
 the room. " I "ve rung a dozen times, and no one 
 answers ! I might die in my bed, and you would n't 
 attend, I suppose. I want my medicine it 's past 
 the time for it now, and I don't know if I ought to 
 take it ! " 
 
 " I have only kept you waiting a few minutes, and it 
 won't hurt you at all to take it," said Madge, calmly. 
 " There was some one here, and I could n't come on 
 the instant." 
 
 The Professor grunted and lay down again, glaring 
 helplessly. But Margery had her back to him, as she 
 selected the necessary one from a forest of bottles, and 
 it had no effect on her. 
 
 "Who was it?" he said viciously. "It's just like 
 you to neglect me for any chance idiot who calls to 
 gossip with you ! Was it any one of importance ? " 
 
 " It was only Major Vibart," said Margery, quietly, 
 as she measured the medicine. " He came to say 
 good-bye."
 
 PART TWO
 
 PART TWO 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 " Far-seeing heart ! if that be all, 
 The happy things that did not fall* 
 I sighed, "from every coppice call 
 
 They never from that garden went. 
 Behold their joy, so comfort thee, 
 Behold the blossom and the bee, 
 For they are yet as good and free 
 
 As when poor Eve was innocent? 
 
 " Officers' wives get puddings and pies, 
 Soldiers' wives get skilly I " 
 
 THE bugle played across the distance between the 
 Camp and Vine Lodge as it had played for twelve 
 months. There was no alteration in the sunny, in- 
 tervening land, except that the vines had grown a little, 
 and one or two cottages had been repainted. They 
 looked startlingly white against the shaded green back- 
 ground of the trees, whose species were not distinguish- 
 able, but were blurred into a harmony of colour as seen 
 from the Vine Lodge garden. Madge sat on the stoep, 
 reading. It was one o'clock, but she did not hurry in. 
 Luncheon was not until half past, and she no longer 
 had to hover in trembling anticipation while Mary laid 
 the cloth and made mistakes. There were few mis- 
 takes at Vine Lodge nowadays. It was smoothly and 
 evenly conducted, and such jars as occurred melted 
 imperceptibly away. Madge was a different person in 
 importance to what she had been twelve months ago. 
 The Professor no longer stormed and raved, though his 
 nature demanded that he should still grumble when his 
 liver was out of order.
 
 1 88 The Story of Eden 
 
 There was nothing much to grumble at, but he was 
 fertile in excuse. Even his language was more re- 
 stricted, however, and he did not calculate upon fury 
 to produce a geneial subservience , his sister had a 
 way of standing and looking at him until he had quite 
 finished, making one small remark, and leaving his 
 presence. The remark was always very small, but no 
 portion of it was wasted. Anthony Cunningham had 
 learned to respect his sister, and think over her scath- 
 ing little speeches. He knew he could not cow her ; 
 he liked the velvet wheels upon which his household 
 worked ; he was vain of the social success which at- 
 tended Vine Lodge in all its ventures, whether at 
 home or abroad ; and the result was a growing civility 
 in their relations. Margery had learned to manage a 
 difficult household, and to adapt herself to circum- 
 stances which would have worn down many an older 
 and less tenacious nature, but the inherent youth in 
 her stood her in good stead. 
 
 She was still very young as she sat in the sunshine, 
 reading ;, but the year's experience had left its mark on 
 her face, in a certain firm set of her lips, which might 
 have been hardness, if they had not smiled so readily, a 
 certain poise of her head, a certain dry decision in 
 speaking of some indisputable fact of life. She taught 
 with authority, the authority of knowledge, and not 
 as do the theoretical scribes. Her secret experience 
 had had its part also in moulding her, but less visibly. 
 The Vibart incident, strangely enough, had had a 
 mental result though its agency was purely physical. 
 As far as Vibart was concerned,, he had left her, out- 
 wardly, as he found her, and her appearance was as 
 young as ever, not a curve lost, not a roundness of 
 youth displaced, or a line added. Her departure from 
 conventional morality had affected Margery Cunning- 
 ham as little as though she had been a happy wife. 
 There exists a mistaken notion that this is always the
 
 The Story of Eden 189 
 
 case with those who do not break the Eleventh Com- 
 mandment, and that so long as they are not found out 
 they suffer no remorse. Human nature is nobler than 
 that; but the punishment does not necessarily follow 
 swiftly upon the disobedience, which after all is only 
 disobedience to an artificial law, so long as no other 
 factor enters in to actualise the crime. Margery owed 
 no allegiance to any one but Vibart had wronged no 
 one in her own estimation, since she regarded his wife 
 as dead. The fear of discovery which means the 
 fear of infringing certain social restrictions had cer- 
 tainly acted to develop her brain, for she had learned 
 to think and deduce, where before she had only felt 
 and acted. But sin only follows a natural act where 
 some person is wronged, as far as the natural act 
 goes, reason itself cannot accuse the perpetrator. The 
 unwritten law which divides men and women was the 
 necessary preventive of excess when Humanity put on 
 civilisation and could no longer rule itself naturally, 
 without the Deified " Thou shalt not ; " and the natural 
 instinct remains the same yesterday, and to-day, and 
 forever, and verifies itself wherever is the least laxity 
 of law and order, in whatever settlement or state of 
 society men and women find themselves allowed a 
 greater licence, and freed from the fear of the restric- 
 tions to which they have subscribed. In all Anglo- 
 Alien society, where the population is a floating one, 
 the tendency to greater intimacy between the sexes is 
 universal, the knowledge that it can be only temporary 
 proving both an excuse and a temptation. The morals 
 of such society are no more assailable than those of a 
 country town in England, whose greater restraint is due 
 to tradition and circumstance. After all, the transfer- 
 ence of one unit from the country town to the Anglo- 
 Alien community would probably result, as in Margery's 
 case, in the unit succumbing to the influence of the 
 atmosphere in which it found itself; and even country
 
 190 The Story of Eden 
 
 towns are not devoid of their scandals, leaking out 
 through the straight hedges which confine their Gar- 
 dens of Eden. 
 
 When the bugle sounded for the second time, Mar- 
 gery rose leisurely and went into the house. Her 
 glance over the table showed her that everything was 
 satisfactory, and she struck the little table gong and sat 
 down in her own place. A minute later the Professor 
 appeared with an open letter in his hand, and worry in 
 his very footfall. 
 
 " The post has just come," he said, with undisguised 
 irritation, as he attacked his luncheon. 
 
 " So I perceive ! I am afraid it is not a satisfactory 
 one for you, to judge by your expression," said Margery 
 dryly. 
 
 "It is some damned fool from Up Country who 
 wants to foist himself upon us ! " burst out the Pro- 
 fessor, with obvious injury. "He says I stayed with 
 him in Rhodesia some years ago, and he wants to 
 intrude on me for a couple of days while he looks out 
 for a place of abode. Yes, and it is intruding, and so 
 I shall tell him ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, Anthony, you can't do anything of the 
 sort ! If you accepted the man's hospitality, of course 
 you must return it. That is a Colonial law ! Is he 
 really a savage ? " 
 
 "I don't know. I don't remember a thing about 
 him ! except that he lived right Up Country without 
 a soul within six miles of him." 
 
 " I suppose you really did stay there? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, I was studying the larvae of certain orthop- 
 tera which swarm there, and found his farm most cen- 
 tral and convenient for my work. It was well away 
 from interruption of any kind, for he rarely saw a soul 
 save the Kaffirs who worked for him. Now and then 
 another settler would drive over on business. But it 
 was seldom. I was there six weeks, and we only had 
 three visitors."
 
 The Story of Eden 191 
 
 " Six weeks ! My dear Anthony ! And you grudge 
 the poor man his ' couple of days ' ! " 
 
 " It is very different. I am a Scientist, and I was in 
 pursuit of a special subject. It was no trouble to him 
 to have me in his house, and we hardly saw anything 
 of each other. We have nothing in common. Now 
 he will be upsetting my house, and interrupting my 
 work, and it is most important that I should not be 
 disturbed just now." 
 
 " Yes, it always is ! But this man must certainly 
 come, and you must not refuse to put him up even 
 though he wears a blanket and a bead necklace for 
 all his clothing ! " said Margery, with quiet decision. 
 " It need not interrupt you. I will undertake him. 
 Does he come straight down from Rhodesia to us?" 
 
 " No, he has left farming, and been living just out of 
 Johannesburg for some time. There "s his letter " 
 he threw it across the table. " If you want him to 
 come, you must look after him, that 's all ! I wash my 
 hands of the whole business." 
 
 Margery took the letter with a little shrug, that 
 acknowledged the Professor's skilfulness in shifting a 
 disagreeable responsibility onto her shoulders. He 
 knew perfectly well that he must admit his former 
 entertainer into his house ; but as Madge had fortu- 
 nately taken up the cudgels on his behalf, he seized it as 
 a pretext to excuse himself from further trouble on his 
 own part. 
 
 " He writes well," Margery remarked. " ' Lansing 
 Crofton,' it is n't a bad letter. I don't think he 
 can be quite uncivilised, Anthony. If he lives near 
 Johannesburg, he must have seen some sort of society. 
 They think themselves much superior to us up there ! " 
 
 " I hate Johannesburghers ! They are all rich fools 
 and poor rogues. It seems a special arrangement of 
 Providence, that the rogues may prey upon the fools ! 
 Vou will find that he brags of his sharp practice, if he
 
 192 The Story of Eden 
 
 has caught the tone of the place. It is rather too sharp 
 practice for this part, as a rule, as he will find out if he 
 tries it on." 
 
 " I see he means to settle in the neighbourhood," 
 said Madge, as she turned the page. "At least he 
 seems rather vague as to what he wants to do. Has 
 he made his fortune ? " 
 
 " He had not. But he may have swindled some- 
 body since he has been in the Transvaal ! " said the 
 Professor, with a disagreeable laugh. 
 
 " He does n't give us much notice. According to 
 this, he will reach here to-day ! I will drive down to 
 the Station about four and see if I can see any one 
 likely to be he. What is he like, by the way? Will 
 you come with me ? " 
 
 " Oh, good heavens, how should I know what he is 
 like ! I 've forgotten all about the bally fool ! No, of 
 course, I can't come. If you like to go on a wild goose 
 chase, you can. You '11 never find him. You 'd better 
 let him turn up by himself. He knows the address." 
 
 "Calm yourself!" said Madge, with a mocking 
 smile. " It won't hurt me even though I should drive 
 to the Station for nothing, and it will look attentive 
 and help to smooth over the lack of cordiality on your 
 part. You would n't have been able to avoid having 
 him here for one night, in any case, Anthony. He 
 takes your consent for granted, you see, and he says 
 he shall arrive to-day ! Even you could hardly insist 
 on his going to the Vineyard or Cogill's." 
 
 " I '11 bundle him off pretty quickly, if I find him a 
 nuisance ! " grumbled the Professor, as he left the 
 room, followed by a last despairing question from his 
 sister " Can't you give me any idea what he is like ? 
 You must know whether he is fair or dark tall or 
 short that would be something to go on 1 " 
 
 " He is a middle-sized man, to the best of my recol- 
 lection," snapped the Professor from the hall. " He
 
 The Story of Eden 193 
 
 had a beard when savaging it in the veld probably 
 because he was too lazy to shave. A dirty trick ! His 
 hair is, or was, very dark. He probably shaves blue ! " 
 Then he went, and Madge laughed in spite of herself. 
 She gave the necessary orders to the servants to 
 prepare a room for Mr. Crofton, and having seen them 
 carried out, went out again onto the stoep in a leisurely 
 fashion, to await a reasonable hour for her " wild goose 
 chase " drive to the Station. She had a book with 
 her, and it was poetry. This was not a general taste 
 of Margery's, but she understood it better now than 
 she had done a year since, and some things in the un- 
 pretentious little volume had appealed to her. The 
 book had belonged to Vibart; his name had been 
 written in it, in a woman's handwriting. When he 
 first brought it to her to show her some lines that he 
 thought applicable to their mutual feelings, she had been 
 half jealous of the unknown donor, and had kept the 
 book because she did not like him to have it. Since 
 then she had thought more of the woman who had given 
 it to him than of Jack. She wondered who she was, 
 and if her experiences had been in any way like her 
 own. It was a curious little odd volume to have come 
 into Vibart's possession, and some experience must 
 surely have been connected with it to make it open so 
 easily at this 
 
 " Something has gone. 
 Oh, life, great giver as thou art, 
 
 Something has gone. 
 Not love, for love as years roll on 
 Plays evermore a fuller part. 
 But of the treasure of my heart 
 Something has gone." 
 
 Margery dimly understood it, and realised without 
 as yet being afraid of the truth of such a realisation. 
 Loss meant nothing to her as yet, while she did not re- 
 cognise the value of the thing foregone. She regarded
 
 The Story of Eden 
 
 it coldly, as an incontrovertible fact, but without a 
 
 pang. 
 
 " But of the treasure of my heart 
 Something has gone ! " 
 
 She turned the leaves lazily ; few people ever saw that 
 little old brown volume, because Vibart, in a mood of 
 more sentiment than caution, had made marginal notes 
 to the more erotic of the poems. He had as a rule 
 taught and practised prudence ; but the more riotous 
 emotions will not only quicken men and women into a 
 temporary comprehension of things that would otherwise 
 be a sealed book to them, poetry, amongst others, 
 but will occasionally relax their worldly wisdom. 
 
 " Rappelle-toi ? " Vibart had written against some 
 marked lines 
 
 " We 're of one mind to love, and there 's no let; 
 Remember that, and all the rest forget. 
 And let 's be happy, dearest, while we may, 
 Ere yet to-morrow shall be called to-day. 
 To-morrow may be heedless, idle-hearted : 
 One night 's enough for love to have met and parted ! " 
 
 Other annotations of his were equally applicable and 
 outspoken. Indeed in one case he had written such 
 copious comparisons between her and the lady of the 
 poem, that she had been fain to rub them out. 
 
 " What are lips, but to be kissed? 
 
 What are eyes, not to be praised ? 
 What is she that would resist 
 
 Love's desire to be embraced ? 
 What her heart that will not dare 
 
 Suffer poor Love to linger there ? " 
 
 "I suppose it is always like that," said Margery 
 vaguely. She had sometimes tried wistfully to picture 
 a wider and more sacred love, but experience failed 
 her. She looked down at the printed page regretfully. 
 
 * What are lips, but to be kissed ? "
 
 The Story of Eden 195 
 
 Then her eyes went along the gravel of the drive, and 
 brightened. Some one was turning out of the lane, 
 between the two big beds of flowers bordering the 
 drive, and coming straight towards her, some one 
 with a sunburnt face and smiling eyes that were large 
 and clear even at that distance. Madge slipped the 
 little brown book out of sight, and called a cheery 
 greeting. 
 
 "What's become of the Meet?" 
 
 " There was n't one to-day," said True, as he shook 
 hands. " But we had a good run last Saturday. All 
 out by Bishop's Court, and across the Peninsula, al- 
 most to Kalk Bay. We killed at Kalk Bay. He was 
 such a pretty fellow ! I should have liked to bring you 
 the skin, Lady ! " 
 
 " Poor little jackal I wonder you can be so cruel, 
 True ! " Margery laughed a little, and pulled her dress 
 away from the edge of the stoep. True accepted the 
 invitation. He sat down, and resting his shoulder 
 against her knee, looked up at her expressively. 
 
 " Well? " she said, still laughing. " Comfortable? " 
 
 " Very, thanks. What are you doing to-day? " 
 
 " Anthony is in a fever because a man from Up 
 Country has expressed his intention of taking us by 
 storm. I 'm going to the Station to try and find him 
 presently. It sounds rather cool, but the poor man 
 naturally expects to find the hospitality he cast upon 
 the waters returned to him after many days I He little 
 knows his sometime guest ! " 
 
 " Cunningham stayed there ? " 
 
 " Yes. We must return it." 
 
 " Is he much of an outsider? " 
 
 "Oh, no. I don't think so. He has been near 
 Johannesburg for some time. That sounds rather awful, 
 but I daresay he is inoffensive enough. Anyhow, I 
 sha'n 't put myself out about it." 
 
 " I '11 come and help you entertain him,"
 
 196 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Will you? You are a dear, True ! " Her hand 
 fell lightly on his shoulder. True sat very square 
 under the slight pressure, as steady and utterly oblivi- 
 ous of himself as he would have been under fire. They 
 had grown intimate friends during the past twelve 
 months, a friendship amply typified by the fact that 
 as Margery laid her hand on his shoulder, she did not 
 happen to look at him. She was, indeed, thinking 
 more of the coming guest than of Truman. It is pos- 
 sible that he knew this, but he did not speak for a 
 minute. 
 
 " I shall have to take him about with me," said 
 Madge, referring to Mr. Crofton. " I hope he won't 
 be very dreadful ! I won't take him to Mount Villiers 
 on Thursday until I feel sure of him, Mrs. Cromo 
 Dame might say things. The Hearne girls are charit- 
 able, he shall go there first." 
 
 "Are you going to Mrs. Cromo Dame's?" said 
 True. " You have only visited at Mount Villiers lately, 
 have you?" 
 
 " Within the last three months since she went into 
 society again. She called on me, and I got to know 
 her better. Do you know, I quite like her ! She is so 
 clever and amusing. I find her much more entertain- 
 ing than most of the people about here." 
 
 " I don't think she 's a bad sort. I never did." 
 The quiet neat sentences dropped out of True's mouth 
 and hardly expressed anything. " She is going about 
 rather soon, isn't she. I hardly realised what she 
 looked like as a widow, before I met her at the 
 Drysdales ! " 
 
 " Oh, Cromo Dame has been dead over twelve 
 months, True ! I don't see why she should retire from 
 the world entirely, because her husband died of that 
 sudden, terrible illness, poor man ! She must have had 
 a hard time of it too, perpetually sick-nursing as she 
 was at the last."
 
 The Story of Eden 197 
 
 " I don't think I should care for her much as a sick 
 nurse ! I was rather sorry for Crorno Dame." 
 
 " She would be all right, she is a kind-hearted 
 woman, True. Where is your usual charity ? If Mrs. 
 Cayley had only been more like her " 
 
 "I dined with V. C. the other night," remarked 
 True. " She was n't there, of course." 
 
 " No she never is ! Poor Mr. Cayley ! I met 
 him at the Hearnes a few weeks ago, and really talked 
 to him for the first time. What a nice voice he has ! 
 Oh, why did he ever marry that woman ! " 
 
 "It was propinquity, Lady. I wanted him to get 
 away, when he first grew so intimate with her, as Miss 
 Montfort " 
 
 " I wish he had ! I wonder why he did n't ? I 
 remember hearing something about it at the time " 
 
 Madge stopped in her turn. She had met them the 
 day she went to Hout's Bay, and spoken of it to Vibart. 
 No connection between Vibart's satisfied acceptance of 
 her statements, and Cayley's marriage, occurred to her 
 mind, but the remembrance was not a pleasant one. 
 
 "You have never seen much of V. C., have you?" 
 True said gently. 
 
 " No. And now I do, I like him very much ! I 
 spent the evening at the Hearnes with him and Major 
 Yeats (in default of you, of course, True), and I felt much 
 invigorated. Last year, somehow, I never talked to any 
 one but Mr. Forrester and Teddy Barton and all that set. 
 Is n't it funny how one gets periods of people ! " 
 
 " Pete has been away, you see. His leave is but a 
 thing of yesterday. You '11 take him on again per- 
 haps? But I like Cayley. He has moods, you know, 
 but he 's all right in between." 
 
 " I wish his wife were all right at any time ! She is 
 a most extraordinary woman ! One cartf know her. 
 True, does she really drink ? " 
 
 " I think she is n't very strong and it 's a hot 
 climate, Lady 1 "
 
 198 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I see. How we do bind our sins on the back of 
 the climate ! " Madge gave a merry cold little laugh. 
 She had made the climate an excuse once, also. 
 " Anyhow I 'm sorry he married her ! " she said. 
 " What a lot of things have happened in the last twelve 
 months, have n't they ! Mr. Cayley's marriage, Cromo 
 Dame's death, and Mr. Forrester's leave (only he is 
 back again, so that does n't count any more) , and the 
 Dodds have gone Home, and Mr. Livingston. I still 
 miss Mr. Livingston somehow. He seemed such a 
 character of the neighbourhood. He was amongst my 
 first impressions, and I think he will be one of my last, 
 even though he should n't come back." 
 
 " He generally returns after a while, they say. He 
 was an odd old fellow, was n't he ! Sometimes he 
 looked about sixteen, and sometimes six hundred." 
 
 " He once told me that he thought he was sixty-two, 
 but occasionally Nature got mixed and reversed the 
 figures. I am sure he seemed more like twenty-six. I 
 do miss him but I miss Starling still more ! " 
 
 " I had a letter this mail ! " said True, smiling. 
 
 " Did you ? What did she say ? When are they 
 coming out ? Do sit up and talk, True 1 I don't see 
 why Starling wrote to you, and not to me ! " 
 
 " Perhaps she addressed it wrong ! " said True, inno- 
 cently. He did not sit up as directed; indeed he 
 leaned his brown head back against Madge's knee, and 
 stared with all his big eyes into the distant, speckless 
 heavens. " She says they will be back next month 
 she thinks." 
 
 " I am glad ! Ar' n't you ? I 've missed Starling fear- 
 fully. When I was at the Redmaynes the other night, 
 I kept on looking about and expecting to see her in 
 that blue dress with the beads ! Do you remember? " 
 
 "I liked that dress," said True, thoughtfully. 
 " The beads went all round at the back of the bodice, 
 you know, and when she leaned back against a hard
 
 The Story of Eden 199 
 
 chair it made them come off sometimes. I used to try 
 and save them ! " 
 
 " True ! " Madge dimpled with laughter. " How 
 can you ! You ought to be ashamed of yourself ! 
 and I 'm sure Starling would n't let you. Dear old Star ! 
 I believe you Ve missed her as much as any one." 
 
 The smile died out of True's eyes. Then came back 
 from the sky and fixed themselves on a glint of blue 
 above his head, between two lines of lashes. " Yes, I 
 missed her," he said. " I was very lonely indeed at 
 first until you took me up ! " 
 
 The two slits of blue widened a little with a compre- 
 hensive surprise. " Oh, he wants to flirt ! " thought 
 Madge, amused. " Well, I don't mind. It 's a sunny 
 afternoon, and the climate shall answer for it." 
 
 " And I suppose when Starling comes back it will be 
 my turn to feel neglected ! " she said with a little sigh, 
 and a smile that trembled round her lips and threat- 
 ened dimples. " Um ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Lady ! " 
 
 " Oh, but yes, True ! Now you know " Instead 
 of finishing her sentence she leaned forward and 
 arranged a little spray of heath in his buttonhole. True 
 turned his head swiftly and his moustache brushed 
 against the confiding little hand, no doubt to Madge's 
 very great surprise. 
 
 " True, you really should n't ! " she said. " I 'm not 
 the Queen ! The next time the band plays the 
 National Anthem I shall think it must be for me." 
 
 " I '11 remind you ! " 
 
 Margery laughed again, her amusement a little quick- 
 ened with excitement, and at the same moment a clock 
 somewhere in the house struck four, the notes sounding 
 through her laughter. 
 
 " Good gracious ! I must go and look after this 
 Crofton man," she said rising hastily. " How dread- 
 fully idle you have made me 1 I suppose it will get
 
 200 The Story of Eden 
 
 chilly later, so I must wrap up, but it does seem 
 ridiculous to wear furs with such sunshine." 
 
 " The summer is holding out better this year," said 
 True, rising also. " Last June the rains began. Do 
 you remember the day the Tracker went? That was 
 the first of them." 
 
 " Why do you call Major Vibart the Tracker? " said 
 Margery, carelessly, without further answer. She picked 
 up her secreted book and went into the house; a 
 momentary shadow from the rain-sodden day he had 
 referred to, seemed to have fallen over her face. It 
 flashed back on her memory as vividly as if it had been 
 yesterday, the soughing of the fir-tree tops, and the 
 level grey skies, the deluge of rain blotting out the 
 mountains, and Vibart's face and voice. . . . 
 
 " I am coming to help entertain ! " True's voice 
 followed her into the house as she disappeared. 
 
 " All right ! " she called back, hardly attending, and 
 ran upstairs to her bedroom to dress. 
 
 It had been a warm day, but as the sunlight went, 
 the chill of the winter weather made itself felt. Madge 
 drove swiftly along the red roads, through the aisles of 
 fir-trees, that had seemed so strange and new to her at 
 first, and were now so equally familiar that they formed 
 the background to any scene which might depict itself 
 in her mind. The wind blew cold and keen across the 
 bright clear land, and Madge shivered a little in her 
 furs as she sat outside the Station in the cart. " It was 
 rather mad of me to come! " she thought. " I have n't 
 even an idea what train he will take. I will only wait 
 for the next, and then go home and leave him to find 
 his way as best he can. There 's Mrs. Redmayne ! " 
 She nodded to a handsome woman who came out of 
 the Station, and Mrs. Redmayne stopped to speak 
 to her. 
 
 " Have you come to meet your brother, Miss Cun- 
 ningham?" she said. "I saw him in town." She
 
 The Story of Eden 201 
 
 stopped there, but to herself she added, " I wonder if 
 she knows? I don't like the woman, but then I don't 
 like Anthony Cunningham. Perhaps he means nothing. 
 I won't tell this little girl he was with any one." 
 
 " No ! " laughed Madge. " I did n't even know he 
 had gone in. I expect he will come out by tram. I 
 am here on rather a fruitless quest, I 'm afraid I 've 
 come to meet a man I 've never seen, and don't even 
 know what train he will come by ! Is n't that irre- 
 sponsible?" 
 
 " We are all irresponsible," returned Mrs. Redmayne, 
 with a shrug of her shapely shoulders. " But I am 
 sorry for you waiting about in this wind. Oh, Miss 
 Cunningham, Mr. Tullock has asked me to luncheon 
 on the Skate next Wednesday, and suggested my bring- 
 ing you. It is rather a long journey to Simon's Town. 
 Would you care to come ? " 
 
 " I should immensely but what am I to do with 
 this man ? He is going to stay with us, and I don't 
 know in the least if he is possible." 
 
 " Never mind, bring him too. It will be a good way of 
 entertaining him. If he proves too abominable, let's hope 
 the motion of the boat will make him ill, or we might 
 contrive a little accident and drop him overboard ! " 
 
 They parted laughing. Mrs. Redmayne hailed a 
 Cape cart and was driven away to call upon her 
 acquaintance in Wynberg, she lived at Rondesbosch, 
 and Margery turned her attention to the other pas- 
 sengers who had come by the same train. 
 
 " Moderately tall very dark with a beard ! " she 
 repeated mechanically. " That man would do, but he 
 is clean-shaven. Can he have cast his beard away from 
 him with other habits of the wilds ? " 
 
 The man in question was standing on the Station 
 steps, looking thoughtfully at the stream of faces pass- 
 ing him. His glance went beyond them and encoun- 
 tered Madge's after a minute, and they regarded each
 
 202 The Story of Eden 
 
 other doubtfully. Then the stranger had an inspiration. 
 He turned to a porter and asked in particularly distinct 
 tones if he could tell him the way to Vine Lodge, and 
 Margery jumped out of the cart in a hurry. 
 
 " I can ! " she said hastily. " I live there. Are you 
 Mr. Crofton?" 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " I am Margery Cunningham. I am sorry Anthony 
 had to go into Cape Town, but he sent me to meet 
 you in his place." (What should we do without our 
 sisters ? ) " What a fortunate thing you asked for our 
 house ! I had just begun to think how wild it was of 
 me to dream of discovering any one I had never seen 
 before ! " 
 
 "I really did it in the faint hope that you might 
 know Professor Cunningham and direct me," said 
 Crofton, candidly. " I thought you looked at me as if 
 you were expecting somebody ! " 
 
 " I think we were both very clever ! Is that your 
 luggage ? I am afraid we must have a cart to bring it 
 up. I can't offer to put it behind. Robert, call that 
 cart, please, and arrange about Mr. Crofton's luggage 
 coming up. Now, Mr. Crofton, come along ! " 
 
 She made room for him in the place Robert had 
 vacated, and three minutes later they were driving 
 homewards triumphantly, Madge chattering in her in- 
 evitably sociable way, and Crofton listening. He was 
 rather untalkative on the whole ; he seemed to have 
 brought the great silences of the lonely veld, where he 
 had lived, down to the coast with him, through all the 
 stir of Johannesburg life which he had experienced in 
 the interval. Madge talked bravely on the homeward 
 way, but the personality beside her began to touch her 
 with something of the same effect that the African 
 night had done at Hout's Bay, and once or twice since. 
 The overmastering sense of a great stillness seemed to 
 be forcing its influence upon her.
 
 The Story of Eden 203 
 
 " It will be perfectly awful to live in the house with 
 that ! " she thought, in dismay. " It is like having the 
 mountains indoors. I shall certainly keep True up to 
 his promise of helping to entertain." 
 
 " I am afraid my taking you by storm in this way 
 was rather inconsiderate," said Crofton, at this moment. 
 " I only decided to come down to the Western Pro- 
 vince at a minute's notice, and when I wrote to the 
 Professor of course I thought I was coming to a bach- 
 elor establishment. I hope I have n't put you out, Mrs. 
 Cunningham ! " 
 
 " You are coming to a bachelor establishment ! " 
 remarked Madge, dryly. " Professor Cunningham is 
 my brother not my husband ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 Then they stole a covert glance at each other, and 
 discovered that they were both laughing. Also, very 
 naturally, Crofton looked at Margery afresh with a 
 different interest. The fact that her state was not the 
 one he had assigned her, made her a new person in his 
 eyes. He had to begin all over again and destroy his 
 first ten minutes' impressions with regard to her. 
 
 " You are so very unlike your brother that I nat- 
 urally concluded he had married," he said frankly. 
 " He must be a great deal older than you." 
 
 " Twenty years or 30. A mere trifle, from an entomo- 
 logical point of view. Sometimes I think Anthony 
 looks upon me as the elder. He is my half-brother." 
 
 Lansing Crofton pondered on these things while he 
 sat at dinner that night. It was the first opportunity 
 he had had of comparing Anthony Cunningham and 
 Margery, for the Professor only appeared with the fish, 
 when he shook hands most hospitably with his guest, 
 explaining that he feared he was a bad host, his pro- 
 fession kept him a perfect slave, but he could trust his 
 sister to represent him far more satisfactorily than he 
 could do it himself. The serene softness of Margery's
 
 204 The Story of Eden 
 
 face never altered in the slightest during this tirade or 
 Crofton's equally polite acceptance of the situation ; 
 Anthony's influence upon her was too deep for the 
 display of surface feelings. He hammered out her 
 illusions and beliefs into a deep-seated and ingrained 
 cynicism, without hardening a line of her face as yet. 
 
 " I shall be perfectly satisfied if Miss Cunningham 
 will show me something of the neighbourhood," Crofton 
 said merely. " I always had a fancy for buying a house 
 near Cape Town, and spending six months of the year 
 here at least. I have a lot of business to do here- 
 abouts ; I hope you won't think me rude if I am out a 
 good deal." 
 
 " Poor man ! " thought Margery. " I wonder if he 
 sees through Anthony ! He is inventing business to be 
 out of my way." 
 
 The sting of her brother's short-comings made her 
 doubly gracious ; the Professor did not alter his usual 
 routine for so insignificant a guest, and retired to his 
 own sanctum, where it was high treason to intrude 
 upon his slumbers. Margery took Crofton into the 
 drawing-room, but asked if he would like a cigarette 
 on the stoep. 
 
 " I can't offer to smoke with you," she said ; " but I 
 will come and sit out there, if you like." 
 
 " I am afraid it would be too cold for you. It is a 
 chilly night. I will smoke later, thanks. Do you 
 sing?" 
 
 "Yes can you?" 
 
 " I can." 
 
 " Come, that 's decided. Look through that music 
 and see if I have anything you know. How do you 
 like this ? " 
 
 By some freak for which she could never account, 
 she began to sing " Lovelace." 
 
 " Why do you come to-night, to-night ? 
 So many miles of wind and rain I "
 
 The Story of Eden 205 
 
 and before she had got half-way through the second 
 verse she wished she had not begun it. A sense of 
 distaste was upon her; it had been a favourite of 
 Vibart's, and she had sung it the morning after. . . . 
 All the memories it brought up were repulsive to her 
 now that she had outgrown the feeling which had en- 
 shrined them. For the first time the vulgarity of the 
 whole episode was apparent to her mind. She felt that 
 the thing which it had seemed natural and excusable 
 to do, was hardly to be tolerated. This man, this 
 stranger, leaning over the piano and watching her with 
 intent eyes, what would he think of her if he could 
 know? It was not so much the fact of her lapse from 
 virtue itself that horrified her at the minute ; had she 
 been carried away once by a gust of passion, she would 
 have looked upon it as a terrible thing, but with some- 
 thing of the dignity of a crime. But the details which 
 had led up to it, continued with it, and were always 
 connected in her memory with it, were an eternal 
 degradation. They were commonplace, and yet they 
 shocked her to remember. Vibart's love had been of 
 as coarse a quality as his nature ; his wooing had been 
 as broadly sensual as his mind, and he had taken ad- 
 vantage of Margery's inexperience to make reticence 
 no part of their intercourse. She felt, under the speech- 
 less scrutiny of Crofton's gaze, that her past experiences 
 had had an atmosphere of indecency. But the spur of 
 her discomfort made her sing none the worse for that. 
 
 " Thank you," he said as she finished. " Do you 
 ever try to follow out the story of a song?" 
 
 "Very often," she answered with the pleasurable 
 thrill which comes of unexpected sympathy. " Why? " 
 
 " I was only wondering if she gave in, or if she were 
 too much afraid." 
 
 " No, I think she gave in. You see she liked him 
 all the better for risking the danger. That is why she 
 referred to it ! "
 
 206 The Story of Eden 
 
 "And he evidently grasped the fact that it would 
 prove an attraction 
 
 " ' Oh, but I come with much delight, 
 All things I love are dangerous I ' 
 
 Do you think she was married ? " 
 
 The question gave Margery some surprise. " I don't 
 know I had n't thought," she said. " Yes, I suppose 
 she was." 
 
 An impulse seized her to ask what he thought him- 
 self, if the inmorality of the suggestion throughout 
 seemed to him worse in the supposititious case of the 
 woman being married ; but her own sense of guilt 
 held her tongue-tied. She dared not attack such a 
 subject, for she had a nervous dread of seeming con- 
 versant with it. She gave a little gasp, and gathered 
 breath to ask him to sing in his turn. In the pause 
 before she spoke, the door opened to admit the servant 
 who announced Captain Truman. 
 
 True was in uniform, having come straight down 
 from Mess. The bravery of his red and gold, and the 
 smile in his eyes, seemed equally effective in dispersing 
 the seriousness of the moment before his entrance. 
 Margery went to meet him, and introduced him to 
 Crofton, whose face expressed no surprise at such an 
 apparition, though he merely shook hands without a 
 word. True's appearance had been quite as unex- 
 pected to Margery as to Crofton, for his final speech 
 to her, that he was coming to help entertain, had fallen 
 on dulled ears. At any rate she had not looked for 
 him so promptly. 
 
 But the atmosphere of the room was immediately 
 changed, and under the spell of True's sunny friendli- 
 ness even Crofton became more sociable. At the same 
 time, he appeared further off from her, Madge thought ; 
 they had dropped from the momentary intimacy into 
 mere distant acquaintance, or in some way True's
 
 The Story of Eden 207 
 
 better established position with her seemed to have 
 glided between them. True was as good as his word, 
 and did help to entertain, skilfully keeping up the ball 
 of conversation, choosing Madge's songs for her to 
 sing, and drawing Crofton out over the news from 
 Johannesburg. Crofton became comparatively fluent 
 in talking to another man ; but when Madge and True 
 were talking, he relapsed into silence and watched 
 them. They had many inevitable references he could 
 not understand, and interests of which he knew nothing. 
 " Sing this, Lady ! " True said, putting a song before 
 her, and Madge sang, with a mischievous glance at him 
 at certain words, while he leaned his head against the 
 piano as he sat by her side, in much the same attitude 
 that he had taken in the afternoon, and gazed at her 
 devotedly. 
 
 "Here in happy Arcady 
 Love is lord of you and me I 
 Sings the Starling, 
 'Kiss thy darling 1 ' 
 While the dove doth bid us love I " 
 
 sang Madge, accentuating the third line. 
 
 " Sings the Starling, 
 ' Kiss thy darling 1 ' " 
 
 It was very pretty to watch, and Crofton turned over 
 the music and watched it. When it came to his turn, 
 he surprised them, for his voice was unusual for an 
 amateur ; but he would only sing one song, and when 
 Truman suggested a cigarette on the stoep, he assented 
 at once. They went out together and walked up and 
 down, smoking and talking in a desultory fashion. 
 Madge threw open the window, and went on playing 
 and singing to herself. She could hear their feet 
 pacing past, or a broken sentence, and they could hear 
 snatches of her songs. Once she caught something 
 about the dynamite monopoly, and smiled to herself as 
 she flung them back a couplet.
 
 2o8 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Fortune little matters 
 If love goes by ! " 
 
 " I must be going, Lady ! " True said a little later. 
 He came up to the window and shook hands, but would 
 not come in again. " The Professor is waking up," he 
 said, " and wants to go to bed. And Crofton is tired. 
 I've got my cap and coat all right, don't come out, 
 it's cold." 
 
 " Good-night, True. I 'm so glad to have seen 
 you ! " said Margery, gaily. The afternoon returned to 
 her mind, and an imp of mischief prompted her to 
 return the pressure of the hand holding hers. 
 
 " I suppose you did n't play God save the Queen, 
 did you?" 
 
 " No, I did n't know you were going, so I did not 
 regard the performance as finished." 
 
 "Will you play it now, perhaps? " 
 
 "No, I won't ! " said Margery, with a flash of memory 
 and comprehension. " Good-night, True. Don't be 
 ridiculous ! " 
 
 Crofton was standing outside the window also in the 
 darkness, with the end of his cigarette between his 
 fingers. He looked on. 
 
 " I wonder if I am going to get on with Mr. Crof- 
 ton," thought Margery, as she fell asleep that night. 
 " He is very unobtrusive, anyway. I wonder what he 
 meant about that song. It seems to me rather an ex- 
 traordinary thing to have said. Perhaps I ought n't to 
 have sung it, it never occurred to me to analyse the 
 words before. But he must evidently have something 
 in him, besides silence, or he would n't have thought 
 of it." A year ago she would have said, " I wonder 
 what he thinks of me ! " but she had reached a stage 
 when her thoughts of other people seemed to her of at 
 least as much importance as theirs of her.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 ** We had a message long ago 
 That like a river peace should flow, 
 And Eden bloom again below. 
 
 We heard, and we began to wait; 
 Full soon that message men forgot. 
 Yet waiting is their destined lot, 
 And waiting for they knew not what, 
 
 They strive with yearnings passionate? 
 
 THE Drysdales were, and always had been, unosten- 
 tatiously domestic. They took their share in the 
 social life round them, but it formed the sauce to their 
 dinner rather than the dinner itself. Society made 
 existence pleasanter, but they could have done without 
 it. They were completely bound up in their three 
 boys ; but except to those people who were very inti- 
 mate at the house, they did not discourse on the sub- 
 ject, nor did they repeat nursery sayings and doings, 
 save to each other. For this alone they should have 
 been loved and cherished. 
 
 " But the fact is," Clarice Drysdale said dryly, " that 
 it is very few people whom we consider intelligent 
 enough to appreciate the Boys, and the Baby is too 
 sacred a subject to be bandied about in public. We 
 are quite as infatuated about our progeny as any other 
 self-centred couple ; but the priceless armour of our 
 conceit makes a secret of it." 
 
 Madge Cunningham was one of the few who had 
 seen Mrs. Drysdale really " at home " among her 
 children, and been a breathless witness of Ossy trans- 
 formed from an impenetrable man of the world into a 
 mere father of a family. He held a position in the 
 Houses of Assembly which kept him in Cape Town the
 
 2io The Story of Eden 
 
 greater portion of most days ; but when he came out to 
 Wynberg, he was more interested in Eric and Jan's 
 miraculous escapes and developing eccentricities, than 
 in any increase of the Bond party, or flank movement 
 of the Rhodesians. Margery had never quite gauged 
 Oswald Drysdale, but she liked to hear him talk with a 
 liking that increased as her knowledge of that state 
 of Colonisation in which she found herself increased 
 also. 
 
 She dropped in on Mrs. Drysdale in Wynbergian 
 fashion some days after Crofton's arrival, and sat down 
 to talk. It was half-past eleven in the morning, and 
 Mrs. Drysdale was combining the business of a large 
 correspondence with a maternal guard over the respect- 
 able baby, who had grown large enough to explore the 
 edible qualities of penwipers. She rang for his nurse 
 when Madge appeared, and had him carried away, a 
 fat white bundle of smiles and sugar candy, which 
 latter he was sucking. 
 
 "Sit down, Madge, and tell me where you have 
 been," she said. " I have'n't seen you for days. Oh 
 wait a moment I must just address this to the 
 Mowbray boy. I want him to come to dinner and eat 
 grouse. Major Yeats is on leave at Beaufost West, and 
 has perfectly deluged me with game. It won't keep 
 two days, while the weather is still warm." 
 
 " Is n't Mr. Mowbray the boy who has come out to 
 the Duke's?" 
 
 " Yes, changed from the first Battalion. His sister 
 is one of my oldest friends, and I promised to look 
 after him and see that he had a good time, and now 
 the minute he arrives the Duke's go under canvas out 
 near Simon's Town. Is n't it a pity ! " 
 
 " Do they ? True never told me. I am sorry. I 
 shall miss them when they are further off. Who comes 
 here?" 
 
 " This Regiment that is just out, the Rutlandshires.
 
 The Story of Eden 211 
 
 I saw some of them at the theatre the other night. 
 Not a decent coat among them, a worse set of 
 screws I never beheld." 
 
 " What a pity ! The Duke's were n't smart, but they 
 did look all right in uniform. True came in the other 
 night, and I thought what a dear little thing he 
 looked." 
 
 " True is particular. They say the regimental tailor 
 groans over the fit of his waistcoats. Will you come 
 and meet the Mowbray boy?" 
 
 " I 'm sorry, but I can't. We 've got a man a-staying 
 with us from Up Country. At least he lives near 
 Johannesburg now, but he was in Rhodesia when 
 Anthony made his acquaintance." 
 
 " Oh, I see ! Did the Professor make use of him to 
 study beetles in the veld? " 
 
 " Exactly ! so now he makes use of us to study 
 civilisation in the Colony. Anthony won't be disturbed 
 of course, so I have had to take him about." 
 
 " H'm ! what is he like ? Possible ? " 
 
 " I have hardly made up my mind. He improves 
 on acquaintance. At first he was so quiet that he op- 
 pressed me, but after he shook down a little, we got 
 on better. I can't say I like him very much, but we are 
 perfectly friendly, and he is very little trouble. He 
 has gone to Newlands to-day to look at a house. I 
 gave him the cart and my blessing, but did not feel 
 bound to accompany him." 
 
 " Does he mean to settle here ? " 
 
 " He says so. I can't quite make out if he is rich ; 
 but he seems to be well enough off to have given up 
 business." 
 
 " He is not very young then ? The English supposi- 
 tion that all our millionaires are early successes has 
 always struck me with wonder. If you think of it, the 
 men who have made fortunes are all grey and stout 
 and have obviously had to barter youth for wealth. You
 
 212 The Story of Eden 
 
 can't succeed in the Colony without working harder 
 for it than at Home, and you want a certain class of 
 brains too ! " 
 
 " And an iron constitution and no nerves ! But Mr. 
 Crofton is not by any means elderly. I should think 
 he was about five and thirty." 
 
 " Then, my dear Madge, he is not a very rich man. 
 But he may be comfortably off." 
 
 " Yes, I think that is about it. He has an idea of 
 going in for a wine farm at Constantia." 
 
 " Not a bad idea, if he knows anything about it. 
 Anyhow it will do for a hobby, as you say he has re- 
 tired from business. Absolute idleness for an energetic 
 man of that age must be the shortest road to insanity. 
 He is not married? " 
 
 No i 
 
 " Is he attracted by you ? " 
 
 How frank women can be to each other, and how 
 infinitely more truthful than men ! A man, asked such 
 a question, must have boasted, with or without reason. 
 Margery spoke as honestly as she knew. 
 
 " Yes, in a way he is. But he seems to me a man who 
 likes to domineer, and I think I only attract him because 
 he finds me ready to meet him on equal ground. Once he 
 had mastered me, I should not interest him anymore." 
 
 " I know the sort of man. Do you know, Madge, 
 you have altered very much in your point of view? 
 When you first came out you would have described to 
 me what the man was like personally, and what he had 
 done and said to you, simply and literally. Now you 
 are chiefly interested in his mental attitude and his 
 character." 
 
 " Perhaps that is because I am not much impressed 
 with him physically," said Margery, laughing. " He is 
 a middle-sized man with very dark hair and a sunburnt 
 skin, if you want to know. He is clean-shaven and 
 has beautiful teeth. What I like best about him is the
 
 The Story of Eden 213 
 
 direct way he looks you in the face, with a very steady 
 gaze " 
 
 " There again ! the way he looks ! But what colour 
 are his eyes ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I will bring him to see you, and you 
 shall judge. No, let me see ! they are something 
 between green and grey and hazel. Curious eyes, now 
 I come to think of it, and very uncommon on the 
 whole. He sings beautifully, Clarice." 
 
 " Does he ? And you sing with each other of course, 
 while your brother sleeps, what is that man thinking 
 about ! I have had occasion to remark that before 
 with regard to you and him. Will you come to dinner 
 and meet the Mowbray boy and bring Mr. Crofton? " 
 
 " Yes, I should like to. We are going to lunch on 
 the Skate on Wednesday with Mrs. Redmayne. I met 
 her at the Station the other day." 
 
 " She 's a nice woman. Beau Livingston would in- 
 sist that V. C. followed her too obviously; but Beau 
 talked scandal in his light way as much as any one. 
 Cissie's reign was a good one for V. C. compared with 
 the present state of things ! " 
 
 " Poor Mr. Cayley ! I called there once, Clarice." 
 
 "Did you see her? " 
 
 "No Iheardtei*." 
 
 " Oh ! she is rather expressive I know." 
 
 " She was talking at the cook. Well, no one knows 
 better than I do how one would like to stamp on a 
 Kaffir cook at times, but it was simply sickening. I 
 wonder where she learned such language." 
 
 " I can't think how she managed to disguise her 
 weaknesses before she married him. Mrs. Cromo 
 Dame must have known ! They say she is rarely sober 
 four nights of the week. Think what a home that 
 must be for any man ! Mr. Forrester says that V. C. 
 tried to break his neck at the last gymkana." 
 
 " How awful ! Do you know I never saw her that
 
 214 The Story of Eden 
 
 day, I could n't ! A servant came to me and said 
 that her mistress was engaged, but would see me if I 
 could wait. I felt sure she was bracing herself up, and 
 would come in smelling of spirits and face powder, and 
 I really could n't bear it. I had only called for Mr. 
 Cayley's sake, so I said I had an engagement, and 
 rushed away." 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale was silent. The same weariness and 
 shadow which had crossed her face once in speaking to 
 Beau Livingston at her own gate, was on it now. He 
 had been reminding her on that occasion that Madge 
 was happy without intelligence, the happiness of 
 mere physical enjoyment, and that they had lost the 
 power ; the helplessness of humanity against the destiny 
 which the days and months and years evolve, was the 
 paramount feeling in Clarice's mind on both occasions, 
 and gave a sudden mysterious twilight effect to her 
 face, as if the light had faded. A sense of personal 
 impotence always brought it there ; but all she said was, 
 " We cannot help him." 
 
 Knowing that her own guest was safe for some hours, 
 Margery stayed to luncheon, and romped with the boys 
 afterwards. The performance ended with the ringing 
 of a bell which sent the two children off, helter-skelter, 
 tea-wards, and Margery returned to the house to say 
 good-bye. 
 
 " I must be getting back now," she said regretfully. 
 "Mr. Crofton will be home any time, and Anthony 
 went out this morning without telling me where he was 
 going, or when he would be back." 
 
 " You look ten years younger when you have been 
 playing with the boys," Mrs. Drysdale said approvingly. 
 " At the present moment you are about eleven ! It is 
 a great blessing to be so easily and heartily amused as 
 you are, Madge." 
 
 " I am generally amused with whatever happens to 
 me. I think it is because I am a very unimaginative
 
 The Story of Eden 215 
 
 person, and live every moment of my life through 
 exactly as it comes. What day do we dine here with 
 the Mowbray boy?" 
 
 " Friday. Please bring some music, and ask Mr. 
 Crofton if he will sing for us." She kissed the girl, 
 and then spoke abruptly in a different tone, " Margery, 
 when your brother goes out all day like this, what is 
 he doing? Butterfly hunting?" 
 
 " Good gracious, Clarice, I don't know ! Anthony 
 and I live and let live. We never interfere with each 
 other. He made me understand from the first that to 
 ask a question was worse than putting your bare hand 
 on a prickly pear. And I have gradually gained a like 
 liberty." 
 
 " Oh ! well, it seems to me an equally dangerous 
 plan. If a man refuses to have a question asked, how- 
 ever innocently, I am forced into conclusions, and that 
 is a pity. I would rather he lied. There is a certain 
 safeguard in having to evade the truth, Madge. No- 
 body really likes lying." 
 
 " I suppose Anthony is like all other men. He has 
 his own life I certainly do not wish to investigate 
 it!" 
 
 " Oh, I did not mean that ! There is no escaping 
 generalities. I was wondering if there were not a par- 
 ticular cause for his absences?" 
 
 "A woman, you mean? Very likely. It really 
 does n't concern me. He is old enough to look after 
 himself, and not to get into an entanglement." 
 
 " Run away, Madge. Your philosophy is beyond 
 me, God keep you, my child." 
 
 She looked after the sunny white figure with an un- 
 translatable expression in her eyes. " I like that girl ; I 
 always did," she said. " She still represents a discov- 
 ery to me, a successful discovery socially, but one 
 that I have not entirely probed myself. How she 
 has altered ! She has twice the character she had last
 
 2i6 The Story of Eden 
 
 year. I wonder what happened to her with regard to 
 Jack Vibart? How people talked ! but that, of course, 
 she did not know. I have no doubt that she thinks 
 that no one suspected any intimacy between them. 
 And even I did not hear it all. Polly Harbord tried to 
 tell me something Clive Forrester had said one d;iy, 
 and I declined to hear. I almost wish I had now ; it 
 might be useful to warn her, if she got into any difficulty, 
 and the story cropped up again. I wonder what True 
 knows ? " 
 
 Madge was making her way, meanwhile, between the 
 blue plumbago hedges, back to Vine Lodge. It was 
 only five minutes' walk, and she was glad, for the sun 
 was going down and she had a latent fear of Kaffirs, 
 even along those familiar roads. It is a characteristic 
 of civilisation in South Africa, that savage nature is 
 generally to be found on the other side of the hedge. 
 A rich man's carefully cultivated garden will be bounded 
 by a line beyond which is a cheerful prospect of un- 
 cultivated land with the appearance of raw veld ; a 
 pretty red road, open and harmless in the morning 
 sunlight, will change suddenly, at the rapid descent of 
 darkness, into a horribly lonely place, with battle, mur- 
 der, and sudden death, or worse, lying in wait in 
 the hundred yards or so between one friend's house 
 and another's. But then, the houses stand well away 
 from the road, in their own grounds as a rule, and 
 people who possess any nerves are haunted by a dread 
 that a call for help would be lost in the space between. 
 Robberies do take place, though not often ; but the 
 white women have two bogies that they shun, the 
 Kaffir after dark, and the snake which glides across the 
 soft, red earth and is hardly visible. Madge quickened 
 her pace, instinctively, though her brain was busy with 
 the problem of Mrs. Drysdale's query about the Pro- 
 fessor. Turning a corner, sharply, she almost ran up 
 against some one coming along by the hedge, and started
 
 The Story of Eden 217 
 
 back with a little cry. As he lifted his cap, she recog- 
 nised, with relief, that he was a white man, and some 
 one she knew. It was V. C. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Cayley, would you mind walking to my 
 gate with me ? " she said, with a gasp and a little laugh. 
 " I stayed rather late at Mrs. Drysdale's, and I hate 
 these roads after dark. It is only two minutes' walk, 
 am I taking you much out of your way? " 
 
 " No, I am entirely at your service." He turned and 
 walked with her at once, a reassuring figure in very 
 English tweed, with his cap crammed down over his 
 vexed blue eyes. Whatever mood V. C. was in, his 
 eyes were rather melancholy ; but their usual expression 
 was one which men called ill-tempered, and women, 
 dissatisfied. Margery glanced at him with a certain 
 kindliness : apart from any sympathy for a spoiled life, 
 she liked his face, though he was not handsome, being 
 brown and thin with a ragged moustache and deep 
 lines drawn round the mouth and eyes. V. C. was 
 barely thirty, but he looked ten years older. 
 
 "This is the consequence of feminine gossip, you 
 see," said Madge, gaily. " We procrastinate, and then 
 have to appeal for a masculine bodyguard." 
 
 "It 's about all men are good for, from a woman's 
 point of view, is n't it ? " he said with a half smile. 
 
 " Oh, one or two things besides, to manage the 
 tax-collector and to vote, and other necessary but tire- 
 some things of that sort." 
 
 " Yes, I daresay. That 's just like your sex, you are 
 so crafty. You think all this in your inmost hearts, and 
 yet you contrive to give men the impression that you 
 think a lot of them ! " V. C. was half jesting and half 
 serious. His soft, complaining tone came out of the 
 dusk at her side and seemed a part of the fading light. 
 Madge knew he was talking nonsense to pass the time, 
 and keep himself from graver thoughts that drove him 
 mad, and she humoured him.
 
 2i 8 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Crafty!" she said, laughing. "What a very odd 
 word ! Am I crafty, please?" 
 
 " Well, now, ar'n't you ? Look at the present case 
 as an instance. You really only want me as an escort 
 because you are afraid of the dark ; but you are being 
 very sweet to me in order to make me think that you 
 like walking with me." 
 
 "Well, really, Mr. Cayley, you wouldn't like me 
 to be disagreeable, would you? And as to being 
 ' very sweet,' I am nothing of the sort. I am just as 
 usual." 
 
 " Yes, that 's just what I mean." 
 
 " Oh, then you mean that I am always crafty ! " 
 
 " No only very sweet." 
 
 They looked at each other and laughed through the 
 dusk. 
 
 " I am afraid you must not look for single reasons, 
 or single emotions of any sort from us," said Madge, 
 more seriously. " You will never understand us if you 
 try and translate what we do from one motive, for we 
 generally have twelve. Life is never a very simple 
 thing to a woman. It must always be more or less com- 
 plicated, from her very nature." 
 
 " I don't understand women," said he, slowly, proving 
 by the very admission that he had the power when he 
 chose. " A woman is never dependable. She has so 
 many courses of action that she may pursue. Now a 
 man has only one, in most situations." 
 
 "Yes, it is generally the one he likes best," said 
 Madge, quietly. 
 
 " I suppose we have n't much to boast of." He 
 gave a sharp, hurt sigh. 
 
 * I think we must ' accept ourselves as we are,' as 
 Scherer says. I found that sentence in ' Amiel's Journal ' 
 the other day, and it struck me." 
 
 " It is a comforting philosophy, certainly," V. C. said 
 rather dryly, as they turned into the lane from the open
 
 The Story of Eden 219 
 
 gate, and paused by tacit consent at the beginning of 
 the drive. Vine Lodge loomed up square and black 
 behind them, glaring at the increasing darkness with the 
 red eyes of lamp-lit windows, not yet darkened. It sug- 
 gested inside warmth and a home atmosphere, at which 
 V. C. looked hungrily, as though he coveted something 
 beyond his reach. He was standing just where Vibart 
 had stood on the night when he came back, unexpect- 
 edly, and found Margery shut out of the house, the 
 night when. . . . She remembered, and shifted her 
 position, involuntarily, to make him move also. 
 
 " So you read ' Amiel,' " he said. 
 
 " Yes, but I do not know if I like him. He is so 
 afraid of action of any sort. I feel at last that I must 
 make him do something, never mind his regretting it 
 or not." 
 
 " I think most action is a mistake, important, seri- 
 ous action, I mean, that involves consequence of any 
 kind. Can't you sympathise with Amiel? I can. I 
 think I must have something of the same weakness of 
 mind." 
 
 " No, I don't sympathise with him, he irritated me, 
 as I say. I can more easily forgive sins of commission 
 than omission. It seems to me that to have been good 
 by avoiding absolute bad, is never to have lived at all. 
 Besides it is only negative virtue." 
 
 "You should read Browning. That is exactly his 
 creed 
 
 " ' If you choose to play 1 it 's my principle, 
 Let a man contend to the uttermost 
 For his life's set prize, be it what it will. 
 The counter our lover 's staked, was lost 
 As surely as if it were lawful coin ; 
 And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost 
 
 " ' Is, the lamp unlit and the ungirt loin, 
 Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.' " 
 
 Afterwards it struck Madge how strange it was to be
 
 220 The Story of Eden 
 
 standing there in the dark, on the very spot where Vi- 
 bart had persuaded her, . . . and to hear V. C.'s voice 
 repeating the bold philosophy which, if applied to her 
 own story, said, " Better the deed, than the apathetic 
 shrinking from the deed." She laughed a little oddly 
 as she shook hands with him. 
 
 " ' The Statue and the Bust,' is n't it ? " she said. " I 
 will read it again." 
 
 " Yes," he answered. " Good-night. Thank you 
 for letting me come with you ^even if you only wanted 
 an escort." 
 
 She heard his tramp die away down the lane towards 
 the Camp, and for the first time active regret seized 
 her for the part she had played a year ago not yet 
 for her own sake, but for Cayley's. 
 
 " Why did n't / marry this man, and save him ? " she 
 thought suddenly. " If his destiny was marriage, why 
 not me rather than that woman who is making his life 
 hell. We were both free, drifting rudderless, as likely 
 to take each other as any other two human beings in 
 all the world. Yet by some mischance I was bound up 
 in another interest, and thought of nothing but Jack 
 Vibart, and Valentine Cayley did not realise my exist- 
 ence. So we missed each other, and I did not help as 
 I might have done." She did not know that she had, 
 indirectly, thrust him into his present disaster. In so 
 far, the Gods were merciful. 
 
 Margery found the drawing-room alight and cosy; 
 tea was awaiting her, and Crofton was sitting beside the 
 little table, reading the evening paper. He put it down 
 as she appeared. 
 
 " I began to think you were lost, and was coming to 
 look for you," he said. 
 
 "Isn't Anthony in?" 
 
 " I have n't seen him." 
 
 " Well, I suppose he will turn up if he wants tea. I 
 am sorry you were left to entertain yourself. We are a
 
 The Story of Eden 221 
 
 neglectful host and hostess, I am afraid. Will you pour 
 out the tea ? " He was nearer the tray than she, and 
 she had made a point of asking little familiar acts from 
 him with the purpose of not allowing him to feel him- 
 self a stranger. He rose at once, however, and offered 
 her his seat. 
 
 " I would rather you did. Let me hand the tea-cake ! " 
 
 She laughed, and made tea for him in the friendly 
 domestic fashion which he valued the more from his 
 bachelor existence, without telling her so. " I stayed 
 playing with Mrs. Drysdale's children," she said. " I 
 want to introduce you to Mrs. Drysdale. She has asked 
 us to dinner there on Friday, and we are to take some 
 music." 
 
 " Are the children part of the entertainment ? " 
 
 " No, most emphatically not. The Drysdales are 
 people who never inflict their friends with their domestic 
 belongings, unless they are specially requested to do so. 
 You would hardly know that they had any children, 
 until you were intimate there." 
 
 "What an uncommonly well-ordered household it 
 must be ! " 
 
 " I always thought it a reasonable household, more 
 than anything else. I should like my own to be just 
 like that, if I were a married woman with a nursery." 
 
 Crofton contemplated her from behind a piece of but- 
 tered tea-cake. She was really wondering, suppose that 
 sudden fancy of hers had been true instead of the pres- 
 ent tragedy of the case, whether she would have managed 
 V. C.'s household as well as Mrs. Drysdale's. " There 
 would be the lack of mean," she considered, " and the 
 disadvantages always attacking a soldier's wife, but I 
 believe it could have been done." Crofton could know 
 nothing of the intensely private speculation behind the 
 dreamy softness of her face. He also vaguely spec- 
 ulated in unknown domesticity for a moment. 
 
 "Well, was your house- hunting satisfactory?" she 
 said, rousing herself.
 
 222 The Story of Eden 
 
 " No, not entirely. The Newlands property I looked 
 at, won't do. But I am half inclined to buy the Rosary." 
 
 " The Rosary ! That old house with the beautiful gar- 
 den on the Constantia Road ? Yes, I know it. It is a 
 lovely place, of course. But it would need a good deal 
 of putting in order." She looked at him with some 
 attention. He must be possessed of some capital to 
 think of buying the Rosary. " And is n't it rather 
 large for you?" she suggested, with some hesitation. 
 
 " If I settle in this neighbourhood, I don't want to 
 buy a cottage. I might marry, and in any case I like 
 a fair-sized house." 
 
 "Oh yes." Madge felt rather nonplussed. "Well, 
 it is a beautiful old Dutch house," she said cheerfully. 
 " In some ways I like it better than Friedenhof. I 
 hope you will let me come and see you furnish it, if 
 you do take it." 
 
 " I should buy it, if I took it at all. Of course I meant 
 to ask you to advise me about the furnishing. Women 
 have better taste than men in those things. But I 
 have lots of ideas." 
 
 " So have I," agreed Madge, amicably. " Oh, I hope 
 you will take it ! It will be delightful to get a chance 
 of expressing myself in a nice house. I always think 
 that people's characters come out more in the choice of 
 furniture than anything." 
 
 He looked at her thoughtfully. " You would like to 
 furnish the Rosary?" he said. "You can't think of 
 any house you would like better ? " 
 
 The remark held no significance to Madge, though 
 after she had told him she did not think he could do 
 better, he seemed to consider the matter settled, and 
 spoke of the Rosary as almost certainly his. That he 
 regarded its purchase as having any connection with 
 her did not occur to her mind, in the light of his per- 
 fectly frank manner and friendliness towards her at all 
 times. He was very friendly, almost confidential in
 
 The Story of Eden 223 
 
 his relations with her, a condition of things beyond 
 Madge's power of judgment, her opinion of her own 
 attraction to men having always hitherto been based 
 on a certain degree of flirtation ; but a varied experi- 
 ence had taught Crofton to keep his thoughts and 
 intentions to himself, and his was not a nature to be 
 known in an hour. Apart from all this, Margery had 
 grown to look upon herself as divided from other un- 
 married women by reason of Jack Vibart, and forgot 
 that such division was not obvious to the rest of the 
 world. She had for a time clung to the delusion that 
 her feeling for Vibart was the utmost of which her 
 nature was capable, and that she lived only upon the 
 hope of seeing him the next year in England. But 
 things had intervened to prevent the Professor carry- 
 ing out his half formed scheme of going Home, and 
 Margery found that in spite of her efforts she did not 
 much care. Indeed it became gradually so uncontro- 
 vertible a fact that her passion had died a natural 
 death, that she could no longer deny it, even to herself, 
 and regarded her past with wonder and some contempt. 
 The connection with Vibart had been, after all, of so 
 little importance to her that she could not regard it as 
 the sacred thing she had wished. It had left her 
 without a future, however. She could not look, even 
 in the innermost recesses of her heart, to marriage as 
 the goal and crown of her life even as the conclusion 
 of the present order of her circumstances. She had 
 substituted a return to England as the turning point of 
 her fortunes whenever she found it irresistible to look 
 ahead. " Until I go Home again," she said when she 
 wished to mark a period, as girls without her experi- 
 ence might have said, " Until I marry," however secret 
 they might keep such hopes. But in general Margery 
 Cunningham did not allow her thoughts to rest on the 
 life prospect before her. The brevity of her love for 
 Vibart had not only driven her into a distrust of herself
 
 224 The Story of Eden 
 
 and her deeper emotions, but had caused her to cling 
 more desperately to the little round of her days, and 
 the things in the immediate present. She imbued 
 herself with the shifting life of the neighbourhood, and 
 made her interests in the events of one week to 
 another, without even making plans so far ahead as 
 next season. 
 
 Crofton went with Margery to Mrs. Drysdale's 
 dinner, and they found themselves well entertained. 
 The Mowbray boy was possessed of the susceptibility 
 which goes with curly hair ; in the short conversation 
 space before dinner he waxed chatty with Madge, who 
 was his partner, and whom he then met for the first 
 time ; during dinner he was attentive, but afterwards in 
 the drawing-room she sang, and that completed his 
 subjection. He could not bring himself to thoroughly 
 appreciate Mr. Crofton's baritone, particularly in duets 
 with Miss Cunningham, but he absorbed as much of 
 her attention as possible to console himself, and left 
 Crofton to his hostess, the serenity with which that 
 gentleman fell in with the arrangement leading Mow- 
 bray to the decision that he was after all a deuced good 
 fellow. 
 
 " You must come and see me," Madge said in the 
 friendly fashion peculiar to her. " I am having some 
 tennis next week." 
 
 " Thanks, I should like it awfully ! " 
 
 "And I will introduce you to all the prettiest 
 girls." 
 
 " Will you ? But I think I Ve begun very well 
 already, you know ! " 
 
 "Oh, who have you met? Have you seen Millie 
 Hearne, or Kate Devigne, or the Hofman's, or Polly 
 Harbord ? " 
 
 " No, but I have seen you, you know." He 
 looked at her with honest admiration in his young 
 eyes, and with the happy confidence of his years.
 
 The Story of Eden 225 
 
 " Oh, how very nice of you ! " Margery was laugh- 
 ing openly ; the sound of it went across the room, and 
 caused Crofton to turn from the music he was discus- 
 sing with Mrs. Drysdale, and look at her. 
 
 " It is n't particularly nice," the boy said stoutly, 
 he was a delightful boy, - - " I expect it 's only what 
 they all tell you ! " 
 
 " It isn't, indeed ! I never remember having such a 
 wholesale compliment paid me before." 
 
 " Well, they all think it then. You can introduce 
 me to any amount of girls, but I 'm sure I 've seen the 
 pret the best already ! " 
 
 " I assure you, you are quite alone in your opinion," 
 Madge was beginning, but she stopped suddenly. 
 
 " You know you are the prettiest girl about here ! " 
 A faint echo from the plumbago hedges of last year 
 floated across her reluctant memory. 
 
 "At any rate I much appreciate your compliment," 
 she substituted lightly for her unfinished speech. " Do 
 you like Wynberg? " 
 
 " Yes, I should think it 's a ripping place when you 
 get into the hang of things. Mrs. Drysdale says you 
 have jolly picnics in the summer." 
 
 " By moonlight, yes. Do you ride ? " 
 
 " Rather ! It 's about the only thing on which I 
 pride myself. I 'm awfully vain over my riding." 
 
 " I hope it won't be the pride that goes before a fall. 
 I can ride too ! " 
 
 "Oh, will you? " he said promptly. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Ride with me, of course ! " 
 
 "Miss Cunningham, will you sing this?" Crofton 
 asked formally, from the further side of the room. 
 
 "What is it? 'Lovelace'? Oh, I don't think 
 No, I would rather sing something else. That's too 
 high." 
 
 " As you please 1 "
 
 226 The Story of Eden 
 
 (" I have annoyed Mr. Crofton," thought Madge, as 
 she sat down to the piano and began to sing. " But it 
 can't be helped. Why did I ever sing him ' Lovelace ' ? 
 I hate the very sound of it ! And I suppose it was my 
 declining to sing it now that has upset him.") 
 
 (" It is her innate vanity ! " thought Crofton, whose 
 temper often boiled unsuspected beneath the curb he 
 put upon it. " She cannot leave any man alone 
 even that boy must be a victim to feed the fire ! What 
 a fool I am to think about it at all ! Let her flirt it 
 is nothing to me.") 
 
 The Mowbray boy sat entranced, while Margery did 
 her best to soothe Crofton by singing with great gentle- 
 ness a little German song, which had the contrary 
 effect of increasing his sense of injury, and of enslaving 
 the already smitten subaltern. 
 
 " Moon, didst thou see my loved one 
 
 Give me a kiss last night ? 
 Moon dearest, O believe me, 
 1 did not think it right I " 
 
 Oswald Drysdale, who generally filled the post of 
 onlooker seeing most of the game, came out of his 
 corner suddenly and went to talk to Mowbray, regard- 
 less of straying eyes and wide answers. 
 
 "Just come out from Home, have n't you? " 
 
 " No, I joined from India." 
 
 " Had a good time ? " 
 
 "Pretty fair. Rather dull. Nothing but a few 
 border skirmishes out of our reach. Wish there 'd be 
 a jolly big war ! Promotion 's awfully slow, the 
 Regiment wants thinning. There 's no chance of it 
 here, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Read the papers ! " 
 
 " They don't count for anything." 
 
 " That 's exactly what I mean. It must come." 
 
 " Well, by Jove we ought to lick them, because of 
 Majuba."
 
 The Story of Eden 227 
 
 " I don't say I think it just " 
 
 "Oh, but we can't leave that not wiped out," said 
 the boy, simply. " We must just lick them I don't 
 care what pretext we give. Is n't their Government 
 corrupt?" 
 
 " Frightfully, but then they have an argument on 
 their side. They never wanted us to overrun them as 
 we have, and half the world talks about our policy of 
 aggrandisement." 
 
 "Who wants their blasted country? Let's go and 
 lick them, and then give it back again ! " 
 
 " My dear fellow, we should have exactly the same 
 trouble as now, if we did. It would not improve 
 matters in the least. They would slip back into the 
 old abuses." 
 
 " Oh, well, we could always go and lick them again ! " 
 
 "The Duke's are a good old fighting Regiment," re- 
 marked Ossy, with a sigh. "But they do not teach 
 their subs political economy as well as the traditions 
 of the Army. Going, Miss Cunningham? Come into 
 the other room, and have some whisky before you 
 start, Crofton ! " 
 
 "Are you staying at Vine Lodge?" Mowbray asked, 
 as the whisky was dealt out, while Madge was gone to 
 put on her cloak. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What luck some fellows have ! " Mowbray re- 
 marked to himself ingenuously. 
 
 He accompanied Crofton and Madge to their own 
 gate, and marched off to Camp down the lane, whist- 
 ling a bar of her last song. 
 
 " You appear to have made a conquest," remarked 
 Crofton, disagreeably. " I will congratulate you if 
 you care for small game ? " 
 
 " I think he 's a dear boy ! What 's the matter, Mr. 
 Crofton ? You are speaking in a very nasty tone ! " 
 
 " I am sure I beg your pardon, I should think my
 
 The Story of Eden 
 
 tone was moderately immaterial, but if you would 
 rather have my silence, you certainly shall." 
 
 " I really don't see why you should adopt this atti- 
 tude," said Margery, nettled. " What on earth is it to 
 do with you if I choose to talk to Mr. Mowbray, or he 
 comes to call here? " She was so really astonished that 
 it became evident in her voice, the surprise of which 
 seemed to incense Crofton all the more. 
 
 " It is nothing whatever to do with me," he agreed, 
 with an icy reserve that brought her first impression of 
 him again to Margery's mind. " I beg your pardon 
 for interfering." 
 
 They had reached the doorstep, and Margery was 
 fitting the key into the lock. " I am afraid Anthony 
 will have gone to bed," she said in a tone that be- 
 trayed nothing. " Will you care to smoke ? " 
 
 " No, thank you. Good-night." 
 
 "You won't have some more whisky? " 
 
 "I had some with Drysdale, thanks. Good-night." 
 
 Without another word she closed the dining-room 
 door and turned the key. Then she paused with her 
 hand on the switch of the electric light. " If you will 
 go upstairs, I will turn this off," she said. 
 
 " May I do it for you? " 
 
 " No, thank you. It would be more to the point if 
 you went upstairs." 
 
 " Good-night." 
 
 " Good-night." 
 
 He walked to the foot of the stairs, Margery stood 
 patiently with her hand on the switch; she had not 
 given him any other salutation beyond a slight bend of 
 her head, nor did she look at him now. He put his 
 foot on the bottom stair, hesitated, and suddenly 
 crashed back to her across the hall, treading so heavily 
 that she trembled for fear lest Anthony should wake. 
 " What on earth made you flirt with that confounded 
 boy?" he said, drawing his dark brows into a knotted
 
 The Story of Eden 229 
 
 line and looking at her with the straight look she had 
 said she liked. It was a very angry look just now. 
 
 " Oh," she responded coolly. "Is that it?" And 
 then suddenly her sense of humour got the better of 
 her indignation. " Mr. Crofton, please do not be so 
 silly 1 " she said frankly. " I did not flirt with him I 
 laughed and talked as I always do. What is the use of 
 glaring at me like a hero of melodrama ? You have no 
 right to lecture me " 
 
 " I am not lecturing you. Only I don't like to see 
 you making eyes at any man you may chance to meet 
 like that, any more than I should my my sister." 
 
 " I don't make eyes ! How can you say so ! I 
 treated him exactly as I treat any one else you, for 
 instance. You don't suppose I am flirting with you, 
 just because I am friendly? " 
 
 His eyes glinted with a queer half- savage expression. 
 " By God ! you had better not," he said below his 
 breath. 
 
 Margery started, and stared at him harder than ever. 
 "The Savage is coming to the top with a vengeance !" 
 she thought. "He looks as if as if what? Oh, 
 he must have had too much whisky ! " But the quiver 
 of her nerves belied the thought. Crofton was not 
 drunk ; but he was shaken out of his self-control and 
 usual reticence, and a glimpse of real nature always 
 upset and frightened Margery. She had identified her- 
 self so much with the shams of the light-hearted world 
 round her, that to have the veil torn aside, as it had 
 been once or twice before when she touched on ugly 
 naked passion, was a disagreeable shock. 
 
 " I don't understand you," she said coldly, with an 
 effort at recovery. " I am sorry if you thought I be- 
 haved as if I were carrying on a particularly vulgar 
 flirtation, which is the only way in which I can 
 translate your extraordinary remarks 1 I had no idea 
 of flirting with any one, nor do I wish to discuss the 
 ubject further. Good -night 1 "
 
 230 The Story of Eden 
 
 He stood on one side, slowly, still looking at her 
 with frowning intensity. " I am sorry on my part if I 
 spoke harshly," he said, with an air of lordly acknowl- 
 edgement, that again roused in Madge a desire for 
 hysterical laughter. (" He speaks as if he were con- 
 ferring a vast favour ! '* she thought.) " Will you shake 
 hands?" 
 
 " Oh, of course ! Now, do please go to bed ! " 
 
 She was so nervous that it required an effort to put 
 her hand in his. He held it for a moment in a strong 
 grip, then put her gently on one side, towards the 
 stairs. 
 
 " I am going to put out the light for you ! " he said, 
 and she obeyed him in silence, and went up to her 
 own room. As she turned at the head of the stairs, 
 she glanced down at his motionless figure, waiting still 
 in the hall below. He stood there until she had reached 
 her own door before he involved the hall and himself 
 in darkness, and then followed her quietly. She went 
 into her room with drooping head before he had 
 crossed the landing to his own. 
 
 It was a relief to Margery to find that Crofton had 
 quieted down the next day, and was as she had always 
 known him, a somewhat forceful, self-centred com- 
 panion, but with no new or disturbing developments 
 to alarm her. Their intercourse was a pleasant, easy 
 affair as a rule, for they had many interests in com- 
 mon, and those subjects where they found themselves 
 on different planes of thought, she avoided with femi- 
 nine skill. " You must take men as you find them," 
 said Margery, philosophically. She arranged her men- 
 tal attitude to suit Crofton's, just as she did Drys- 
 dale's or Truman's when with them, with the result 
 that Crofton fancied himself in more complete har- 
 mony with her than he really was. But that belief, 
 however intimate they became, would probably never 
 be shaken. If he discovered any lack of sympathy, he
 
 The Story of Eden 231 
 
 would place the deficit on her side, not on his, and 
 conclude that women could not always comprehend a 
 man's point of view, without realising his own inca- 
 pacity to comprehend a woman's. It was in the nature 
 of things that Madge should know otherwise, but she 
 knew also that there were moods of hers into which no 
 created being, man or woman, could enter, however 
 intuitive or in touch with her. This is a knowledge 
 learned slowly, but not always fully recognised, for we 
 all struggle against it, however strong our stoicism. 
 That terrible saying of Emerson's, that souls never 
 touch their object, is a truth which has driven more 
 saints into Paradise than all the creeds. The realisa- 
 tions, however partial, of its loneliness, makes the human 
 soul stretch out after an intangible Divinity, since the 
 tangible around it is proved out of reach. My brother 
 cannot understand me, but I can assert a God, and 
 setting him, an independent presence, in the far-off 
 Heavens, I can take comfort in my faith that He does, 
 just so long as I feel Him a personality sufficiently human 
 to be a satisfactory confidant. Margery prayed to a 
 dogmatical God apart from her convictions. When her 
 nature was stirred to its deepest, when she knew that her 
 soul stood lonely in a universe created in its own idea, 
 then she did not pray. She felt without words, and ex- 
 perience was teaching her not to attempt expression. 
 Crofton had his moods into which no one could enter 
 also, but being the masculine and less complex animal, 
 he accepted them as an established fact, and did not 
 analyse or expect sympathy. Indeed, the isolation of 
 his own individuality was to him merely a proof of a 
 certain superiority, rather than a loss of fellowship with 
 his kind. He had begun to like Margery Cunningham 
 rather against his will, for he was keen-sighted enough 
 to see that certain of her faults were hardly tolerable 
 from his standpoint. Yet he continued to like her, 
 and to be attracted by her best side, which was the
 
 23 2 The Story of Eden 
 
 one he most frequently saw. Propinquity and oppor- 
 tunity, the twin powers that influence human nature 
 most, were beginning to change the reluctant liking to 
 something less capable of judgment. If Crofton had 
 really wished to avoid such an influence he would, 
 however, have left Vine Lodge after a few days, as he 
 originally intended ; but he lingered on from week to 
 week, more conscious of his own motive than Margery, 
 who was entrenching herself in an honest friendship, 
 and was debarred from thinking of anything warmer, 
 both by ties in the past and conscientious scruples of 
 which Crofton could have no conception. Even the 
 incident of Miles Mowbray, and Crofton's rabid hostil- 
 ity upon his subsequent visits, merely made her laugh, 
 and roused her to no sense of the perils of the situa- 
 tion. She was happy, as ever, in the present, and with 
 her acquired irresponsibility, would not look to any 
 possible development.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 "Where is loss f 
 
 Am I in Eden ? Can another speak 
 Mine own love's tongut f " 
 
 JOEY TULLOCK'S luncheon party on board H. M. S. 
 Skate comprised Mrs. Redmayne and Madge, Crofton, 
 Valentine Cayley, and Polly Harbord. It was not 
 long since he had been promoted to Commander of 
 the little third-class cruiser, and he presided with much 
 gold lace and affability in the tiny cabin at the stern of 
 the ship. The hour's journey that lay between Simon's 
 Town and Wynberg had prevented Madge from know- 
 ing as much of the naval side of social life as she did 
 of the military; but she was always charmed afresh 
 when she found herself within the cheery little colony 
 in False Bay. There was more good comradeship, and 
 even greater lack of ceremony, amongst the circle there 
 than in the larger area of the suburbs round Cape 
 Town. The tiny cottages up the cliff side were full of 
 the wives of the naval men on the boats in the Bay, 
 and the little station hummed with informal visiting 
 and gaiety, while there was an innocent picnic air 
 about the dining-out, and card parties, and scratch 
 dances, which sprang up like mushrooms daily. 
 
 " We have been keeping it up this week ! " Joey 
 said as they sat at luncheon. " A dance on Monday, 
 sports Tuesday (I dined out that night, too, and 
 played poker till two the next morning !), three 
 luncheon parties, theatricals Thursday, and a gym- 
 kana on Saturday ! " 
 
 " I always said you were far more frivolous here than
 
 234 The Story of Eden 
 
 we are ! " said Margery, gaily. " I have n't dined out 
 since I went to the Drysdales last week, find I am sure 
 Mr. Crofton thinks us very tame after Johannesburg ! " 
 
 " Dear rustic town ! do they still scratch each other's 
 eyes out at the public functions there?" Cissie Red- 
 mayne asked. " I spent a week in Johannesburg once 
 with my husband. We were doing the round tour, and 
 came back by sea. I remember they began putting 
 on their diamonds about twelve o'clock in the day 
 (not earlier), and they offered us iced salmon Eng- 
 lish salmon ! as a special attention. I took a long 
 time to recover from that week ! " 
 
 "I never attempted to sample the society to any 
 great extent," said Crofton, indifferently. " I was out- 
 side the town, in Doornfontein, and found my distrac- 
 tion chiefly in the theatres and the halls." 
 
 " I am glad I don't live in commercial centres," 
 said Madge, comfortably. " It must be so terrible ! 
 We have got quite the prettiest side of the life out 
 here in the suburbs." 
 
 She glanced out of the porthole opposite her to the 
 glimpse of the smiling bay and the curve of shore. 
 Every time the Skate rolled a little in her moorings, a 
 picture of dotted white houses and green hillside rose 
 up, framed in the porthole, and with the return swing 
 came the hollow blue sky without a cloud to mar it. 
 
 " Do you like a pretty life? " V. C. asked, turning to 
 her. " It sounds like existence on a Christmas card ! '* 
 
 " It is very much more comfortable than the unfin- 
 ished side of existence Up Country," said Margery, 
 practically. "The Colony is only in the schoolboy 
 stage inland, and is all elbows and knees and rude 
 remarks ! " 
 
 " It will grow particularly if the Boers are no 
 longer the schoolmasters ! " said Mrs. Redmayne, sig- 
 nificantly. " Shall we have war, Mr. Cayley?" 
 
 " Yes, if I am consulted 1 "
 
 The Story of Eden 235 
 
 "It's a poor chance for us," grumbled Tullock. 
 "Your service will get all the fun, and I don't believe 
 we shall have a look-in ! We 're just jumping in our 
 skins to get a pot at something. Look at the way the 
 fellows tumbled to the Benin expedition ! But we 
 shall be held back next time, I am afraid." 
 
 " There is room for all ! " said Crofton, briefly. 
 
 When luncheon was over, they went up on deck to 
 leave the blue-jackets room to clear. Joey's dining- 
 room was some twelve feet by ten at its broadest, and 
 sloped to nothing at its farthest end ; the round table 
 and the guests pretty well filled it, and it required the 
 alert deftness of naval training to avoid charging into 
 the fern pots peacefully mounted in the empty spaces 
 from which he had removed the guns, or backing into 
 treasures gathered from the Seven Seas and strewed 
 around the cabin. There was not much more space 
 on deck, but the women disposed themselves in chairs, 
 while the men leaned on the rails, and the world, as 
 viewed from the trim gun-boat, looked a little space 
 compact of sunshine, a blue bay, and a strip of shore 
 with toy houses. 
 
 " How this thing does dance ! " said Madge, laugh- 
 ing, as the Skate jogged merrily in the swell. " Oh, I 
 am glad I have n't got to take a voyage in her ! I am a 
 terribly poor sailor. There is a line of Kipling's which 
 always fills me with a giddy horror even to read 
 
 " ' The kick of the screw beneath me, and the round blue seas 
 outside I ' 
 
 Is n't it awful ? " 
 
 "Is n't he a favourite of yours ? " V. C. asked in his 
 cross sympathetic voice. "I suppose women dislike 
 him because he always hits their weak points ! " 
 
 "What do you mean, Mr. Cayley? I am sure it is 
 something nasty from the satisfaction of your tone ! " 
 
 " Never mind my tone, listen to this
 
 236 The Story of Eden 
 
 " ' A fool there was, and he made his prayer 
 
 (Even as you and I !) 
 To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair I * 
 
 That 's what you all are ! Rags and bones and hanks 
 of hair, and then men fall down and worship you." 
 
 " I am sure I am not ! Mrs. Redmayne, do come 
 to the rescue ! Mr. Cayley says I am an ill-dressed 
 skeleton, and my hair is like tow. Yes, I know that is 
 what you mean, Mr. Cayley, though you mask it under 
 Kipling." 
 
 "I don't care for Kipling nowadays," said Mrs. 
 Redmayne. " He is so like the Salvation Army 
 when he is not banging on a drum, he is talking very 
 loud about God." 
 
 " I asked Mr. Ames if he told the truth about the 
 Army," remarked Polly. " He has been through the 
 ranks, you know Mr. Ames, not Kipling. He says 
 it was as much truth as it was good for the Public to 
 know ! " 
 
 " When Ames is clever I always go and smoke," re- 
 marked V. C., dryly. " It is the only thing to do with 
 some men. Miss Cunningham, what are you thinking 
 about? You have not spoken for three minutes." 
 
 "That's unusual for me!" said Madge, good-na- 
 turedly. " I was thinking that it would be nice to 
 make things stand still sometimes. I don't want to go 
 back, " her pause was no more perceptible than her 
 shudder, " but somehow I don't want to go forward. 
 Perhaps if I could be sure that I should remain the 
 same mentally, 1 would not care about a physical 
 change." 
 
 " Mental experience is really the only experience 
 with any power to change you," said V. C., from the 
 wilderness of a man's ignorance. 
 
 "Do you think so?" returned Madge, quietly. "I 
 am not a lover of change at any time. Once I am 
 comfortably settled I don't want to be uprooted."
 
 The Story of Eden 237 
 
 " I am sorry for that, for I am going to uproot you 
 now," said Mrs. Redmayne, rising. " No tea, thanks, 
 Mr. Tullock. It gets dark so early at this time of the 
 year that I want to get back." 
 
 " Don't put your sunshade up in the boat going 
 across, please ! " Joey pleaded, " or we shall be 
 hauled up by our Martinet. He is a very dragon on 
 etiquette." 
 
 "Isn't that etiquette? It seems to me far more 
 improper that I should have a freckled nose ! But 
 I remember his characteristic Mrs. Thurston told 
 me. He offered her his gig one day to take her out 
 to call on Mrs. A'Court on the Druid, and it came on 
 to rain. Mrs. Thurston looked at him, and said 
 meekly, 'May I put up my umbrella, please?' He 
 could n't say No, it was so wet, and then was seen the 
 dread spectacle of the Martinet with a lady in his own 
 gig, with an umbrella up. The whole Bay laughed 
 over it." 
 
 " Serve him right for having theories. Good-bye, 
 Miss Cunningham ! Hope we shall see you on board 
 again," and with a truly naval pressure of her hand, the 
 new Commander helped his guest down the ladder and 
 into the boat. 
 
 " What a jolly day we have had ! " Madge said, as 
 they went homewards. " I always wish I had belong- 
 ings in the Navy after a visit to Simon's Town. They 
 are such nice fellows ! " 
 
 " We are a very harmonious party," Cissie agreed. 
 " Do you like V. C. ? I saw you talking to him." 
 
 "I have liked him for about six weeks," Madge said 
 cordially. " He wants knowing." 
 
 " He used to be a great chum of mine, but I dropped 
 him because my husband misapplied the situation," 
 said Mrs. Redmayne, quietly. " V. C. is not very com- 
 prehensible to men, out of the saddle, and they do not 
 understand his being so to women* It was very stupid
 
 23 8 The Story of Eden 
 
 of Ned, but it was not worth hammering an explana- 
 tion into his brain, so I sacrificed the acquaintance. I 
 am always sorry over again when I meet V. C. He 
 was one companion in a hundred." 
 
 " I have no husband, so I can continue to cultivate 
 him," said Madge. Words sometimes slipped from 
 her as easily as laughter, and she rarely paused to re- 
 gret them. She and Crofton parted from Mrs. Red- 
 mayne at the Wynberg Station, and drove home to 
 Vine Lodge. It was quite dark, and the electric lights 
 gleamed like jewels along the lawless roads which main- 
 tained their air of being uncivilised after daylight, in 
 spite of the gleaming lamps. Margery felt every rustle 
 in the dark firs, and the beat of the pony's feet on the 
 soft road sounded like an alarm signal. She did not 
 notice Crofton's silence, or feel any presage of ap- 
 proaching Fate, she was indeed rather glad of his 
 presence in the nervous dusk. She shivered physically, 
 but all her mental faculties were lulled with pleasant 
 memories of the empty, happy day, and the easy 
 society of people whom she knew so intimately that 
 there was no conventional restraint possible between 
 them. 
 
 It was nearly dinner-time when they reached home, 
 and she changed her gown with her usual interest in 
 her own adornment. It was a small daintiness that 
 she loved, and she was as concerned over her personal 
 appearance for the benefit of her brother and Crofton 
 as she would have been for a dinner at Government 
 House. There was a fire in the drawing-room, for the 
 nights were very cold, and after dinner she and Crof- 
 ton resorted thither, as they generally did while the 
 Professor slumbered. Madge did not turn on the elec- 
 tric light as usual ; there was a bright glow from the 
 logs, and she sauntered over to the fire, and stood in 
 front of it, glancing at herself mechanically in the 
 mantel glass, and still without suspicion of the next
 
 The Story of Eden 239 
 
 moment's crisis. Crofton followed her deliberately, 
 and stood facing her as Vibart had done on the day 
 that they parted. 
 
 " You said something to-day of which I want to re- 
 mind you," he said. Margery turned from the glass 
 and looked at him in some surprise ; but she was 
 accustomed to his way of taking her lightest speeches 
 in deadly earnest at times, and resenting them as some- 
 thing personal. She generally laughed him out of it, 
 and it hardly troubled her. 
 
 "Well, what was it?" she said. 
 
 " When you said on deck that you wished you could 
 stand still, you did not want things to alter, you were 
 referring to me?" 
 
 " To you ! " she repeated blankly. " How could 
 I be, Mr. Crofton? I was not thinking of you in the 
 least." 
 
 "I thought you meant the condition of things be- 
 tween us," he said relentlessly. " You know as well as 
 I do, that it cannot stop as it is. We must go on. 
 There is no limit to the growth of feeling between a 
 man and a woman. You cannot stay such a thing be- 
 cause you hesitate and wish to pause at one point." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 Her eyes met his across the firelight. The direct 
 compelling gaze she had always recognised as a char- 
 acteristic of his held her like a vice. " Do you 
 mean " she stammered. "Are you telling me 
 What do you mean?" 
 
 " Yes, that ! " he said. It was plain he was control- 
 ling himself grandly. He did not come a step nearer, 
 or attempt to reach her, yet his whole figure was 
 tense with passion. "I love you ! " he said baldly. 
 " You need n't be afraid I won't touch you till you 
 tell me I may." 
 
 But the few brief words had struck Margery into 
 stony silence, as completely as if she had looked upon
 
 240 The Story of Eden 
 
 the head of Medusa. If the ground had yawned sud- 
 denly at her feet, if some horrible disaster had para- 
 lysed her with its unexpectedness, she could not 
 have been taken more unawares. Just as once before, 
 the little light veil of trivial things that she had thrown 
 over her life was wrenched aside to show her raw 
 reality beneath. She stood there dumb, battling with 
 the dread that at last she had to face the consequences 
 of her own free-will, and in the pause he put her dread 
 into words. 
 
 "Would you be afraid to be my wife? Have I 
 spoken too roughly?" 
 
 Again she fought for words, and this time they came. 
 " I cannot marry you. I am sorry that you should 
 have thought of it," she said with a coldness that 
 sounded to her own ears hideous. 
 
 He drew his brows together, half in pain, half in the 
 opposition with which he had met and overcome the 
 misfortunes and disadvantages of his life hitherto. 
 Margery's breast rose and fell quickly with the terror 
 of her own position. If he knew the truth ! If he 
 could only guess what the woman whom he wished to 
 make his wife had already experienced ! for the first 
 time she saw herself plainly as a living lie ; it had 
 seemed hitherto entirely her own secret, a phase in her 
 existence for which she was responsible to no one but 
 herself. Now, in a flash, she saw that she represented 
 another thing than she had the right to represent in 
 men's minds. She was a possible wife to them, she 
 had set herself honestly apart from any such possibility 
 in her own mind. And she could do nothing to warn 
 them away from the mistake. Indeed, the dread of a 
 guess being made as to her motive of refusal made her 
 red and white by turns, and she glanced furtively at 
 Crofton with a panic-stricken desire to soften her un- 
 compromising words that he might not light upon their 
 true meaning. But he had no slightest suspicion of
 
 The Story of Eden 241 
 
 the jarring tumult in her mind, or her giddy sensation of 
 disaster. There were not two yards between them, but 
 the force which holds humanity separate and individual 
 is mightier than thousands of miles. All he observed 
 was that her fair soft face was rather grave as she stood 
 looking down into the red coals. Her mind was as 
 secret from his as if they inhabited different spheres. 
 
 " I have never thought of you as anything but a 
 friend," she said with an effort to keep her voice steady 
 that was piteous. " I am very, very sorry if I have 
 caused you any any disappointment ; but you have 
 really taken me absolutely by surprise." 
 
 "You mean that you don't care for me," he said 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Yes," she said catching at the excuse with relief. 
 
 " I am sorry to have troubled you as I can see I 
 have ! " he said after a breath. " Will you still look 
 upon me as a friend? It seems rather hard that be- 
 cause I wanted more, I should lose even that that I 
 had. Please forget what I what I said, and we will 
 let everything be as it was before." 
 
 She drew a sigh of relief that was almost a sob, and 
 willingly laid her hand in the one he held out. He 
 clasped it for a moment closely, and then loosening his 
 hold he bent his head and kissed it with a certain air 
 of reverence that made her heart throb with absolute 
 pain. It struck her vividly that she had never before 
 been treated with such absolute respect, and a woman, 
 however much she may be carried away by a display 
 of less restrained feelings, likes to meet with respect 
 some time in her life, and prizes it jealously. 
 
 " Yes, we will be just the same as before," she said 
 mechanically ; but she knew in her own mind that it 
 could never be the same as before. Moreover the dis- 
 turbing of the calm serenity with which she regarded 
 their relations to each other, had raised a new fear in 
 her mind. She thought with panic dread that this 
 16
 
 242 The Story of Eden 
 
 might have happened at any time, with Truman, 
 with Forrester, with any of the men she had known 
 intimately. As if her eyes were suddenly opened, she 
 saw the danger lurking round her at every step, while 
 she had gone gaily on, treading at the edge of a preci- 
 pice. Supposing there had been nothing in the way 
 of these men marrying, as there was nothing in Crof- 
 ton's, no question of means, or family ties (she 
 guessed hurriedly at possible barriers with which she 
 had never concerned herself) , this terrible facing her- 
 self in the hard light of the World's opinion might have 
 come upon her at any moment. It had not seemed 
 until now a very serious thing that she had done, 
 she had comforted herself with the poor excuse that 
 like stories were hinted of half the women she knew. 
 They might be just as true, according to Vibart's 
 creed it was an amiable weakness, too general to count 
 as a crime. Sometimes, on looking back, she felt as if 
 she had assisted at a tragedy, through which she 
 had always heard the band play. There had been ludi- 
 crous incidents which had appealed to both hers and 
 Vibart's sense of humour, and she had even laughed 
 over them in remembrance. The only thing from 
 which she had shrunk had been the after-realisation of 
 vulgarity ; but she had put it out of her mind as a 
 thing which was done and could not be helped, and it 
 had not troubled her careless ephemeral life with more 
 than a passing cloud. On the whole, her fault had 
 been a trivial experience which she could hardly call 
 by so hard a name, in the light of Vibart's teaching. 
 Now the strength of its result, the influence it was to 
 have upon all her future, loomed up suddenly, and she 
 cowered, aghast at such a spectre of her past self. 
 
 It was an uneasy evening Margery turned on the 
 electric light, and they had some music But even the 
 matter-of-fact lighted room, which with hci f a*& in 
 material details she had hoped would dispel the fireli\
 
 The Story of Eden 243 
 
 atmosphere of the last half hour, could not bring back 
 her old security. Crofton was more at his ease than 
 she ; he was much as usual, and while she congratu- 
 lated herself on his taking her decision so tractably, she 
 saw nothing ominous in his acquiescence. But though 
 she went to bed early, she endurtd the most unusual 
 torture, for her, of a broken night, and hour after hour 
 her defenceless conscience faced whole armies of accu- 
 sations which had never attacked it before. In that 
 first experience of retribution, she suffered perhaps 
 more than at any after time; for she was taken 
 unawares, and had prepared no argument in her own 
 extenuation.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 " Choose one of whom your grosser make " 
 (God in the Garden laughed outright) 
 
 " The true refining touch may take 
 
 Till both attain to Life's last height" 
 
 THE return of the Dodds was the herald of quite a 
 burst of festivity in the neighbourhood. Johnnie had 
 taken his wife and daughter Home in the preceding 
 summer, that is, in December, and six months' ab- 
 sence has made Wynberg think that it could hardly do 
 without him. He was large in every sense of the 
 word, and he left a large hole behind him when he 
 pranced out into the world from his own particular 
 corner of it. 
 
 " Had a ripping time ! " said Johnnie, his high voice 
 squeaking with enthusiasm. " Damned old country, 
 England, and slow, but there 's everything ready to your 
 hand. You can have a new suit of clothes by pulling 
 a bell, and there 's always a means of conveyance wait- 
 ing round the corner." 
 
 " Dad never would walk a step, it was awfully bad 
 for him. Don't you think he is visibly stouter ? " 
 Starling said to Madge. " We had a very good time. 
 What have you been doing here?" 
 
 "Oh, the usual round! I am so glad that you are 
 back, Star ! I missed you awfully. So did True." 
 
 " Oh, True ! " Starling lifted her chin. " He was 
 inconsolable for a fortnight, I suppose, just as a pic- 
 turesque attitude. And then you consoled him ! " 
 
 " Well, I did my best ! " Madge admitted. " But I 
 have n't seen so much of him lately, somehow. We 've 
 had a man staying in the house " 
 
 " Poor True ! " said Starling, rather dryly. 
 
 "True didn't care you know he never does."
 
 The Story of Eden 245 
 
 This was a comfortable maxim, and worthy of all be- 
 lief in her mind. " He used to come and help enter- 
 tain. He has n't been lately, because the Duke's have 
 gone out to Simon's Town. Is n't it a pity ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Starling. " I suppose so for some 
 of us. Is Mr. Forrester back yet? We rather hoped 
 he would come in the same boat with us." 
 
 " Yes, his leave was up in April he has been back 
 some time. Oh, they 've got a new boy, Starling, and 
 he is quite a success, much more so than that last 
 Henderson thing whom Silence Wright and the Brawler 
 used to torment. This boy joined from India, and is 
 not entirely callow ! He is a great friend of mine, and 
 I was very sorry when he was moved to Simon's Town. 
 He used to warn off about three times a week and dine 
 with us, and the Colonel got quite stuffy over it ! It 
 was such fun." 
 
 " What is his name ? " 
 
 " Miles Mowbray every one knows him as the Mow- 
 bray boy. He is deliciously impertinent ! What do you 
 think he said because I went over to Simon's Town 
 once and lunched with Joey Tullock at the Hotel?" 
 
 " I wonder Simon's Town did n't say something ! 
 Well?" 
 
 " He said Anthony did n't look after me properly, 
 and if he were in charge he should be much more 
 strict ! I did laugh so ! He is such a dear boy you 
 can't be cross ; but was n't it cool ? " 
 
 Madge was talking quickly, instinctively shrinking 
 from a question she knew must come, and hoping to 
 distract Starling from her brief remark about " A man 
 staying with them." But Starling had a tenacity of her 
 own, and a motive for inquiry. 
 
 " Who is this man you said was staying with you, 
 Madge ? " She nearly said, " Who cut out True ? " but 
 refrained. 
 
 "Oh, a Johannesburgher whose acquaintance An-
 
 246 The Story of Eden 
 
 thony made Up Country ages ago. His name is 
 Crofton, and he is rather nice," said Madge, with scru- 
 pulous care not to overstep the truth on either side in 
 her description. 
 
 " A Johannesburg man ! I wonder if Dad knows 
 him?" 
 
 " I don't think so, he has not lived at Doornfontein 
 long. He is well off, and has bought the Rosary." 
 
 " Oh, is he settling here ? " 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 "Is he married?" said Starling. Her soft expres- 
 sive eyes dwelt on Margery thoughtfully. 
 
 " No ! he will do nicely for Polly Harbord, or 
 you ! " 
 
 " Or you ! " retorted Starling. 
 
 " No, I am too devoted to the Mowbray boy ! " 
 
 Starling laughed, " Bring Mr. Crofton to be in- 
 spected, if you like," she said. " Oh, I forgot to tell 
 you, Madge, we met Mr. Livingston in London." 
 
 " No ! did you ? How is he ? I hope you gave him 
 my love ! Is he coming out again?" 
 
 " I don't know. He was very amusing as usual, and we 
 went about with him a good deal. He gave us tea at 
 the New, and wanted to take me to dinners at restaurants 
 innumerable. He said that London was the place par 
 excellence to do as one liked, if one only had the moral 
 courage ! " 
 
 " I suppose he meant immoral courage. How like 
 Beau ! Did you go ? " 
 
 " No, Mother was against it, and I did n't much 
 want to." 
 
 " So he told you that you had no moral courage, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " Well, no, I appropriated the other part of his state- 
 ment, and explained that I was doing as I liked in de- 
 clining the invitation ! He said he wished you had 
 been there you would have enjoyed yourself so 
 thoroughly."
 
 The Story of Eden 247 
 
 " I certainly should, and I should have done all the 
 wicked things he asked me, so it is just as well that I 
 was not. I '11 bring Mr. Crofton round to-morrow, if I 
 can catch him, Starling. He is very busy just now buy- 
 ing land round Constantia. He is taking up wine farming 
 as a hobby, I think, as he has retired from business." 
 
 " What was he ? " 
 
 " Oh, a perfect procession of trades ! He told us 
 the other night, and made us laugh. He was farming 
 when Anthony knew him, and he came out as an engi- 
 neer. He has tried ostriches, and at one time he ran 
 a Hotel Up Country. He says that paid him best, be- 
 cause there was n't another within sixty miles, so he 
 charged what he chose ! I fancy he made money 
 over that, and speculated at Johannesburg, and was 
 fortunate." 
 
 " The real achievement was leaving off speculating 
 when he had made money ! They so seldom do. I 
 wonder he could resist losing it again ! " 
 
 " You would n't wonder if you knew him. He is the 
 right sort of person to succeed. What portion of him 
 is n't iron will, seems to be dogged persistence." 
 
 Margery had some cause for her point of view with 
 regard to Crofton, for her dismayed senses were slowly 
 and surely realising how very far he was from the quiet 
 acceptance of her refusal on which she had at first con- 
 gratulated herself. The few days which he had origi- 
 nally mentioned as the limit of his stay had lengthened 
 into a few weeks, and still he showed no hurry to de- 
 part. Worse still, the Professor seemed quite resigned 
 to his presence, and did not even hint at his leaving, 
 which hampered Margery still further, if her brother 
 made his guest welcome, she could not raise an objec- 
 tion. It was she who had, in the first place, insisted 
 on his being invited, a fact of which the Professor 
 would stormily remind her, as she knew, if she sug- 
 gested that Crofton was in the way when he found his
 
 248 The Story of Eden 
 
 company congenial in the slightest degree. Yet she 
 really wished he would go, his presence distracted 
 her, and made an undercurrent to the smooth flow of 
 her surface life of which she hardly dared to think. 
 The more she considered the matter seriously, the more 
 she was convinced that marriage was out of the ques- 
 tion for her, and she must not even listen to a sug- 
 gestion of it. "At least, not for years," added her 
 elastic nature, prone to recover itself in time, however 
 severe the fall. But in Crofton's case it was certainly 
 out of the question, a fact she tried vainly to impress 
 on him without putting it into words, and which he 
 met with an equally wordless but flat denial. The 
 worst of it was, that she felt, uneasily, how he was mak- 
 ing himself a place in her life, and that in consequence 
 she must suffer keenly when he dropped out of it 
 Margery was very feminine, she liked small attentions, 
 she liked to be approved, and to read pleasure and ad- 
 miration in the eyes that looked at her, and she liked 
 above all to know that she was the first consideration 
 in somebody's mind. They were just the little things 
 that she prized the more for having to go consistently 
 without them in her dealings with her brother. It was 
 in instinctive search of such domestic courtesies the 
 mental sunshine in which to warm herself that she 
 had been driven into Vibart's snare. But on the whole, 
 she did not want a violent demonstration of feeling so 
 much as the little civilities of everyday life. In the 
 first flush of her vitality, she had met and responded to 
 the passion of the moment, but it did not attract her 
 more matured nature. The gentleness of Crofton's 
 iron self-restraint made his very touch pleasant to her, 
 and she realised how dear his silently promised ten- 
 derness would have been and yet she must not 
 accept it. 
 
 " I shall suffer but I suppose I deserve to suffer," 
 she said to herself with hardening mouth and shrink-
 
 The Story of Eden 249 
 
 ing senses. Then the old plea of Womanhood rose to 
 her mind, " Why should the man come off scot free, 
 and the woman take all the penitence? If Jack's 
 wife died, he would be regarded as an eligible bachelor, 
 no one would dream of raising his past sins against 
 him ! It is only I who must pay the penalty for us 
 both." 
 
 She had her fits of remorse too, during which the 
 feeling that she was deceiving Crofton, as the typical 
 Man who looked upon her as a possible wife, made her 
 feverishly anxious to atone in some sort by forfeiting 
 her chance to such a position. She introduced him to 
 half the girls she knew, and tried to sing their praises 
 honestly in his ears, and to forward the affair, if he 
 showed the least sign of being attracted. With Star- 
 ling he was soon firm friends, somewhat to Madge's 
 surprise, and she heroically did her best to throw them 
 together and shut her eyes and ears to her own grow- 
 ing reluctance. Crofton seemed in this case not un- 
 willing ; he found points of mutual interest with Mr. 
 Johnnie, and was made free of Friedenhof, and Mar- 
 gery scourged herself mentally for her resentful accept- 
 ance of the fact that he often called there without her, 
 and did penance by inventing errands and messages 
 for him to leave with Starling. 
 
 " I cannot go to Friedenhof this afternoon," she 
 said deliberately, after a hard-fought battle with her 
 own jealousy. " Mrs. Cromo Dame is coming to tea. 
 But I do want that book returned." 
 
 " Where is it? " he said with alacrity. " I am going 
 down to the Rosary to see how they are getting on, and 
 I can call on my way back." 
 
 " Here it is " She held out " Tess of the D'Ur- 
 bevilles " to him bravely. " Will you tell Starling 
 that I liked it very much." 
 
 "Did you?" he said turning the pages. "Ah! I 
 remember it now do you think she was right to marry 
 that prig?"
 
 250 The Story of Eden 
 
 Margery drew a long breath. The similarity of her 
 position with Tess's had struck her, of course ; also its 
 essential dissimilarity in the one redeeming point, that 
 in her own case no one knew or could prove her guilt 
 indeed, as far as she knew, it had gone unsuspected 
 by the world around. " I think having married 
 him that she should never have told ! " she said, 
 avoiding the real drift of his question. " She should 
 never have told, that is just where the weakness of 
 the uneducated classes comes in. Had she been 
 Angel Clare's social equal, she would not have made 
 such a mistake." 
 
 "You think that education induces deceit?" 
 
 " I think it sometimes eliminates utter folly ! What 
 good did it do either of them that she told him? It 
 proved him a cowardly hypocrite, and ended in a 
 tragedy for her! There, go away I don't want 
 to discuss Tess with any one. I felt the book too 
 much." 
 
 He laughed a little at her apparently causeless pet- 
 tishness, and turned away with the book in his hand. 
 At the door he hesitated, and then deliberately came 
 back to her. 
 
 " I am sorry to re-open a subject which I know 
 you wished closed," he said in a different tone. Mar- 
 gery started and glanced up at him with fear quicken- 
 ing the expression of her eyes. " I only wanted to 
 ask you was your objection to me based on another 
 preference ? " 
 
 "You mean is there any one else?" 
 
 "I mean has another man been before me?" 
 
 " No ! " she said deliberately, and her pulses 
 throbbed to the shock of her own lie. 
 
 " Thank you. Then it is only that you don't care 
 forme?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That is, of course, an insuperable barrier ! " he said.
 
 The Story of Eden 251 
 
 She did not look up, or translate his tone in any way. 
 Her fair soft head was bent over the paper she was 
 reading, and she merely said, " Yes ! " again. Then he 
 turned and went in earnest. 
 
 As the door closed behind him, she turned with a 
 curious stiff motion and watched him, out of the win- 
 dow, walking away in the sunshine. Not until he was 
 out of view, did she suddenly bury her face in the cush- 
 ions behind her and tremble with the passion of her 
 own feeling. 
 
 " He is going to her ! he asked me again to be 
 quite sure to have it off his conscience that he 
 changed without cause. Now he is going to Starling 
 and I can't be glad ! Oh, I can't be glad ! - I am 
 only jealous miserably, meanly jealous, because I can't 
 have what she can and it is all my own fault ! " 
 
 She sat up, and clasping her small strong hands behind 
 her head, set her teeth, staring out before her with 
 miserable wide-open eyes, bluer than the gay plumbago 
 hedges, as blue as the hot African sky. Ten minutes 
 later she got up and shook herself with a little fierce 
 movement. Then she went upstairs to change her 
 gown, mindful that Mrs. Cromo Dame was coming, 
 she had asked her purposely to provide an excuse for 
 not going herself to Friedenhof. 
 
 When the widow was shown into the drawing-room, 
 one rustle of silk and breath of heavy scent, she found 
 Margery sitting by the pretty tea-table, which was drawn 
 up to the fire. The afternoon had turned cold and 
 cloudy, as it does in August after the most brilliant 
 mornings, and the wind sounded like artillery among 
 the firs. 
 
 " It is blowing in a filthy fashion ! " Blanche Cromo 
 Dame said as she kissed her hostess. She had a shrewd, 
 cordial liking for Margery, to which the latter had of late 
 responded. " How cosy you look ! I am quite thank- 
 ful to get indoors. It must be awful in Cape Town 
 rocks blowing about ! "
 
 252 The Story of Eden 
 
 " The only thing to be thankful for is that it won't 
 rain so long as this wind holds. Do loosen your 
 furs, Mrs. Cromo Dame, you will take cold driving 
 home." 
 
 Blanche threw off her wraps and stretched out her 
 plump pointed fingers to the fire. She had very pretty 
 hands, with pink palms and filbert nails ; but they could 
 never have belonged to an immaculate woman. They 
 were the hands of a courtesan, though she were openly 
 proved to have just passed through the marriage 
 ceremony. 
 
 " What pretty biscuits ! Did you get them at Dix's ? " 
 she said. " I was there yesterday, and they never 
 showed me anything as toothsome." 
 
 " No, my cook makes these, under strict superintend- 
 ence ! By the way, has Mrs. Savage Smith got a girl 
 yet?" 
 
 " Mrs. who ? Oh, you mean Mrs. Fierse-Jones. That 
 was Mr. Forrester's joke, was n't it. What a smart boy 
 he is ! You know he called me the Hand-painted Lady 
 when he first came out? " Blanche was not reticent. 
 
 " I heard it you are very good-natured to take it 
 as you do ! I wonder any one repeated it to you." 
 
 " Lilla Montfort, Mrs. Cayley, I mean, let it out 
 in one of her on one occasion. Oh, my dear, I don't 
 mind ! Better look pretty than plain. A pretty picture 
 is better than an ugly dull canvas any day. Don't you 
 think so?" 
 
 " I certainly always admire you ! " Blanche always 
 succeeded in amusing Madge, whatever her mood. 
 "But I never tried, myself I thought I should hate 
 the feeling so much." 
 
 " It depends on what you use. I '11 show you how 
 to do it, if you want to ; but you 're young enough to 
 do without it yet. Poor Cromo used to call it my tar 
 and feathers, and boasted that I was a dab of a hand 
 at private theatricals. He never minded. It "s every-
 
 The Story of Eden 253 
 
 thing in life to get hold of a man who does n't rag you 
 for the sake of a little powder ! " 
 
 " I '11 bear that in mind if I if I ever marry ! 
 When he goes down on his knees I '11 say, ' First, may 
 I use a powder-puff! ' " 
 
 Blanche looked at her with some curiosity in her 
 sleepy brown eyes. " Dr. Langdon once told me that 
 he could n't stand a greasy skin of all things ! " was all 
 she remarked, however. " ' Let them put the whole 
 powder-box on their faces, but don't let them be 
 shiny ! ' he said. I said, ' How about a mouthful 
 of powder?' He said, ' A man takes his chance ! If 
 he 's such a fool as to miss his goal, and get out of 
 boundary, he must suffer. Personally I don't know the 
 taste of powder, but I Ve sampled plenty of lip-salve ! ' 
 Smart, was n't it? " 
 
 Madge gave a little shriek of laughter ; Mrs. Cromo 
 Dame's conversation was apt to act on her like cham- 
 pagne, and went to her head in the effort to follow its 
 intricacies. 
 
 " By the way, where 's your new man ? " Blanche said 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Gone out." 
 
 "With your brother?" 
 
 " No, I don't know where Anthony is." 
 
 The heavy-lidded, full-coloured brown eyes dwelt 
 thoughtfully on the fire for a minute. " You don't 
 know much about him, do you ! " Blanche said quietly. 
 " I 'd look him up now and then if I were you. Not 
 that it matters in the end. Where 's Crofton gone 
 then?" 
 
 " He went to the Rosary to see how the house is 
 getting on " 
 
 " Does he mean to get in yet awhile?" 
 
 " I don't know. He was going to call at Friedenhof 
 on his way back." 
 
 "Oh! Starling Dodd?"
 
 254 The Story of Eden 
 
 "I daresay." 
 
 Mrs. Cromo Dame leaned back in silence for a 
 minute, with her eyes still on the fire. In the pause 
 the wind thundered, and the sudden darkness came 
 down like a curtain over the day, which almost seemed 
 to turn to night visibly. Then she spoke : 
 
 " Look here, Madge, I 'm going to give you a word 
 of advice out of my own experience. You can resent 
 it, if you like, but you need n't. Don't be a fool over 
 this man. Any one can see that he is after you, and 
 you could have him for very little trouble, I should say. 
 Don't let him drift off to Starling, if you like him your- 
 self. He's a good type of man to marry well-off, 
 and sound, and considerate, I should fancy. You won't 
 come across that sort every day, and you 'd better 
 marry while you can. You 're not the kind of girl to 
 dawdle until you go begging, and brag it out like Polly 
 Harbord might do. If she does n't marry, she '11 never 
 be an old maid, she Ml attract men when she is fifty, 
 and that's a hard age. She can use her tongue. But 
 you 're not built that way. You 're not offended, are 
 you?" 
 
 " No, I know you mean it kindly. It would have 
 been easier not to have spoken. But I don't think 
 I shall marry Mr. Crofton." 
 
 " If you don't Starling will, or some one else. And 
 you '11 have to stand by and see her living the life and 
 having the position you might have had. You can't get 
 away from it here we 're all too intimate. And then, 
 if you regret it, you '11 begin to pick holes in her and 
 pity him, and he, if you once attracted him, will prob- 
 ably come back to you they generally get a re-action. 
 You 'd better take him now, than go playing the fool 
 after he 's married some one else." 
 
 " But supposing " 
 
 " There is n't another man, is there ? I don't believe 
 it 1 True was a bit gone over you, but you never were on
 
 The Story of Eden 255 
 
 him, or V. C. either, though you could make a bad busi- 
 ness worse in that quarter, I don't doubt. If you are 
 hesitating over past flirtations, put them clean behind 
 you they don't count. A woman has as much right 
 as a man to start clear. What wild oats she sowed be- 
 fore she knew him are no more to him than his to her." 
 
 Margery felt rather breathless. The sudden intro- 
 duction of V. C. and True, as other than mere pleasant 
 acquaintances who had just " liked her," gave her the 
 old shock of fear that they also might look upon her as 
 something she was not and could not be. And the 
 final summing up of Blanche's modern philosophy filled 
 her with apprehension lest her words had a direct ap- 
 plication, and at the same time dazzled her with a blaze 
 of possible redemption. If one could think that this 
 was true ! if women really might repent as men and 
 put their former sins behind them without the outward 
 and visible signs of a sheet and a candle, then indeed 
 her tempest-tossed doubts and questionings might sub- 
 side in quiet rest and accomplished happiness, or so 
 she fancied. 
 
 " Well, I must be going," Blanche said, without wait- 
 ing for an answer. She stretched herself like a tigress, 
 and raised her soft lissom body out of the easy chair. 
 " You can think over what I say, Madge ; the best news 
 I had heard for many a long day would be of your 
 engagement, and my congrats would be the heartiest 
 you would receive. Good-bye," she stooped and 
 offered Madge a mouthful of the powder which Dr. 
 Langdon avoided sampling. " Ah ! Here 's your 
 brother. Well, Mr. Cunningham, I "m just going, 
 you're too late. Aren't you sorry?" 
 
 But she did not go at once, because the Professor 
 stood on the hearthrug talking to her, a well-groomed 
 figure in his well-fitting riding-dress, and the conversa- 
 tion continued on the doorstep, to which he accompanied 
 her, and where they stood to chat. Margery knew he
 
 256 The Story of Eden 
 
 liked smart women, but the circumstance would have 
 struck her even then as miraculous if her thoughts had 
 not been absorbed by her late guest's counsel. In spite 
 of the wind, the Professor, with his coat-collar turned 
 up round his ears, lingered over a rapid conversation 
 with Blanche, while his sister sat in the firelight seeing 
 the figure of blind Justice in the gleaming coals, and 
 watching the scales dip now on this side, now on that. 
 When he came back into the warm room, shivering a 
 little, for he was a delicate man, she was still there, but 
 his rapid scowling glance at her face showed him noth- 
 ing but dreamy absorption. 
 
 "Aren't you going to dress, Madge? It is growing 
 late ! " he said warningly. There was a note of rebuke 
 in his voice on the principle of carrying the war into 
 the enemy's country and attacking her before she could 
 accuse him of lingering himself. 
 
 " Is it? I will go in a minute." 
 
 He glanced at her again, snarled an indistinguishable 
 word, and went off to the dining-room to drink neat 
 whisky as a preventive against a chill. Margery sat on, 
 until the howling of the wind drove her into action. 
 As an accompaniment to her thoughts it was intoler- 
 able ; she hated it at all times, but now it made her want 
 to shriek in concert. She dressed for dinner, and then 
 sat down to the piano and sang to drown the howling 
 demon outside, trying not to count the long hours that 
 Crofton must be spending at Friedenhof. Did he mean 
 to dine there? Was he not coming back until late? 
 Had he the discourtesy to 
 
 His step at last she caught it on the gravel in the 
 pauses of Heaven's artillery, a firm, decided step that 
 she had learned to know. She heard him ring the 
 door-bell sharply, and the maid answering it : "A 
 rough night, Mary!" he said. "Yes, Sir," on 
 ordinary occasions Margery would have gone to let him 
 in herself, but she had purposely not done so, and did
 
 The Story of Eden 257 
 
 not wish him to lose the point of her action. So she 
 began to sing, in order to announce her presence in 
 the drawing-room, and the fact that she must have 
 heard him ring. It was the " Lover's Lullaby " 
 
 " Sings the Starling, 
 ' Kiss thy darling ! ' 
 
 While the dove doth bid us love >" 
 
 An odd recklessness had taken possession of her. 
 She thought of Blanche's suggestion that she would have 
 to stand by and see his life with Starling, all the 
 things she might have had, and deliberately renounced ; 
 she wondered how it would affect her, and tried to 
 look at it in all its details, trying the pain before- 
 hand, as one moves a wounded limb to find which 
 position is the most endurable. Then she heard 
 Crofton pause at the door, and he entered. 
 
 " Oh ! " she said carelessly, leaving off her song, but 
 not rising. " How late you are ! " 
 
 "Am I? Time flew rather. By Jove, I am late! 
 I had no idea Hope I sha'n't keep dinner waiting ! " 
 He turned again to the door, and then spoke as he 
 opened it, " Starling sent her love to you, she is 
 coming over to the Rosary to-morrow to see the 
 place." 
 
 Margery's mouth was dry. "Starling/" she re- 
 peated blankly. 
 
 " Oh Miss Dodd ! Sorry, but you always speak 
 of her so. It's catching." 
 
 "Oh of course." 
 
 " I thought we would ride down and meet her there." 
 
 " You can anyway. I believe I have to go to Cape 
 Town." 
 
 She did not know that she could be so angry. The 
 
 strength of her jealousy overwhelmed her for the 
 
 moment. At any cost she felt that she must regain 
 
 what she had already lost. Her hands fell from the 
 
 17
 
 258 The Story of Eden 
 
 keys, and she jumped up and crossed the room to the 
 fireplace. 
 
 " What a long time you were out ! " she said un- 
 steadily. " Mrs. Dame left long ago I Ve been 
 I 've been all alone." 
 
 She heard the door close, and for the minute she 
 thought he had gone. Then he came back across the 
 room and stood beside her waiting. 
 
 " It was n't nice of you ! " she whispered. " I wanted 
 you." 
 
 "Well?" he said. She realised that he would not 
 speak first, and looked up with shining eyes which were 
 full of fear of herself. She seemed to have lost control. 
 All her carefully erected barriers of reason, and con- 
 science, and determination, behind which she had en- 
 trenched herself, had fallen about her in ruins. And 
 yet she had fought not weakly, and with desperate 
 appeals to some vague God, beyond herself, for help. 
 
 " I always want you ! " she said inaudibly, and turned 
 her face against his breast, as though she hid from her 
 own defeat. 
 
 " My darling ! " he murmured, in a voice he had 
 never let himself use as yet. " I can never thank you 
 properly, but I love you better than anything on 
 earth ! " 
 
 An echo out of the past repeated almost the same 
 words to her shuddering, reluctant memory, nay, as 
 their lips met, the sting and stain of other kisses 
 seemed to prevent her realising the bliss of these. And 
 so was her betrothal sealed, for she came to him not 
 fresh with mortal ignorance, but with the terrible gift 
 and gain of a God, "knowing good and evil."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 " To love the right things rightly ; this ensphertt 
 
 Wisdom, religion, art ; forges the key 
 That opens Edens through the Gate of Tears, 
 Where by life's river blooms the mystic Tree" 
 
 THE new elderly Colonel of the Duke's, who the 
 Regiment asserted was being finished off in Africa, was 
 an authority on etiquette ; on Guest night his officers 
 must be present to a man, or he would know the rea- 
 son why; indeed Forrester declared that no excuse 
 would be accepted save a broken neck or a railway 
 accident, in which cases the ghost would have to ap- 
 pear and satisfy the Chief for the absence of the body. 
 On other nights it was sufficient to warn off, but woe 
 to the man who omitted the ceremony ! 
 
 It was not even very safe to be late ; Mr. Henderson 
 was late to-night, and the Colonel glared. The Junior 
 Subaltern fell into his seat apologetically, and attacked 
 his meal at once. He was a round-faced youth with a 
 roseate colour, and when agitated it matched his Mess 
 jacket nicely. 
 
 " You have done it ! " muttered the Brawler, who 
 was on Henderson's right. " Where Ve you been?" 
 
 " Calling on Mrs. Naseby. She kept me, gossiping 
 old cat ! Heard some news, though." 
 
 "No! What 'sup?" 
 
 " That brute Forrester has been refused ! I am 
 glad ! " Mr. dive Forrester had not endeared him- 
 self to his juniors. He was better off than most of his 
 fellows, and Senior Sub. His ways in the Regiment 
 were apt to rouse annoyance to frenzy, and to make 
 those who were not strictly his associates disgusted 
 critics of a little way he had of currying favour. Now
 
 260 The Story of Eden 
 
 you may pursue a sinful career in the Army, it seems, 
 and do many questionable things ; but you are open 
 to a wholesale fire of scrutiny and comment, and the 
 man who toadies is briefly labelled as a loathsome 
 beast. 
 
 "Who is it? Edith Hofman, of course. I never 
 thought she would have him ! " The Drawler was 
 wise after the event. " Did Mrs. Naseby tell you ? 
 It 's sure to be a lie " 
 
 " No, it is n't. He 's so awfully sick he 's gone off 
 to mope. Fancy Pete moping! " 
 
 The Drawler glanced round the table ; Truman, 
 Tennyson, Cayley, Ames, Scott Murray, Wright, 
 they stretched away from him, a red line of flesh 
 feeders. No, now he came to look, Clive Forrester 
 was wanting. 
 
 " By Jove ! I had n't noticed," he acknowledged. 
 "Then it must have been on Thursday, after Johnnie 
 Dodd's dinner. I was there. Forrester went off with 
 her into the glass houses, and I suppose his dinner 
 egged him on. Look sharp, Henderson, we 're a 
 course ahead." 
 
 The boy choked, and pushed his plate away. " I 'm 
 not hungry," he said. " I Ve got some more news. " 
 
 " Oh, lord ! Give it us by degrees. Any more of us 
 wasting our maiden affections? Yourself, perhaps." 
 
 " Not I." Henderson grinned. He had learned to 
 grin his way through chaff during his initiation in the 
 Duke's. Africa had tanned, and his brother Officers 
 had hammered him, into hardness. They let him 
 alone now, save for an occasional burst of high spirits, 
 and he concentrated his mind upon his uniform until it 
 almost fitted. 
 
 " It 's such a bore being all out here," he said confi- 
 dentially. " One never hears any of the Wynberg or 
 Rondesbosch news. Mrs. Naseby waxed great this 
 afternoon. Miss Cunningham 's engaged."
 
 The Story of Eden 261 
 
 " The deuce ! " 
 
 Henderson looked knowing. He had heard enough, 
 on his first coming out, to locate the drift of Ransom's 
 expletive. " Yes, she would n't have hooked a native 
 of these parts," he said with an assumption of blase 
 worldliness that sat oddly on his fresh young face. 
 " It "s a fellow who 's only just come down here 
 Crofton. He knows nothing of the neighbourhood and 
 its stories a year since." 
 
 " Look here," Ransom had recovered himself, 
 " don't you let Mowbray or Truman hear you talking 
 like that. They are both friends of hers. Never mind 
 what you think you know, you 'd better shut your mouth 
 about this affair." 
 
 " But half the Regiment knows that Major " 
 
 " Never mind the Regiment. You take my advice. 
 Shut your mouth. Get up, there 's the Queen ! " 
 
 Mowbray was seeing the guard turned .out that night. 
 After the toasts he swung out of the room, wrapped 
 himself in his overcoat, jammed his cap down over his 
 eyes, and stamped out into as bad a night as well could 
 be. The wind howled, and a sheet of large rain pelted 
 in his face. He shook his head bravely, like a dog, 
 and went through his duty doggedly, but he was not 
 sorry when it was over, and he could return to the 
 Mess for the chance of a game of whist. 
 
 When he got back to the Mess most of the older 
 men had left; the Brawler was alone to keep order 
 among the Subs, and acted as referee in the cock-fight 
 which was taking place between Scott Murray and 
 Ames. Murray's weight stood him in good stead, but 
 Ames was more active, being chiefly composed of well 
 set bones and perfectly trained muscles. The Brawler 
 called, " Time ! " and amidst a shriek of laughter the 
 two sat still, facing each other, and panting for a minute 
 from the effort of rolling, and twisting, and squirming 
 their toes beneath those of their adversary, as best they
 
 262 The Story of Eden 
 
 could. Mowbray had stood still to look at them and 
 shout too, he was a regular boy ; as he turned away 
 he heard ' Silence ' Wright say shortly to Tennyson, " Is 
 it true ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I suppose so. Henderson told 
 Ransom ; he has been calling on that female Inquisition 
 incarnate, Mrs. Naseby. I think it very likely." 
 
 " Who is the man ? " 
 
 " This fellow named Crofton who is staying with 
 them. It is very probable. After all a few stories 
 don't fatally injure a girl's character. Miss Cunning- 
 ham may have been a little fool in our opinion, but 
 there 's nothing to prove." 
 
 Silence nodded shortly. " I was away on leave most 
 of the time," he said. "What was the tale? The 
 Tracker rode with her?" 
 
 " Oh, well, it was n't only that. He was there morn- 
 ing, noon, and night especially night ! Her brother 
 went to Grahamstown, and then there was a lot of 
 talk." 
 
 " Forrester made most of it. You can't trust what 
 he says." 
 
 " He was in with Vibart, though." 
 
 " Yes, and blackguarded him behind his back more 
 than any one. To his face it was all honey. ' Won't 
 you have a drink, Major? Glad to see you back, Sir.' 
 Then the instant the Tracker was out of hearing he 
 called him a simple Woman-hunter, and said he was a 
 disgrace to the Regiment ! " 
 
 " All that does n't disprove Vibart's penchant for 
 Margery Cunningham. It was undeniable, and con- 
 sidering what we know of Vibart " 
 
 "It never choked True off! He has been there 
 since as much as ever, if not more." 
 
 Mowbray heard, he could not help hearing, and his 
 heart turned sick within him, while he wondered what 
 this slur was on dear, pretty Madge Cunningham. He
 
 The Story of Eden 263 
 
 had come to Wynberg too late to hear of it, for it had 
 been displaced by fresher scandals in the minds of the 
 men ; but he could not take the comfort to himself 
 that it was only idle talk in the mouths of Tennyson 
 and Wright, as he would have with Forrester and Scott 
 Murray. He was to hear it many times in the days 
 which followed, and to have the details recalled and 
 accentuated by empty heads eager for distraction of 
 any kind. Furthermore, he learned to prove his loyalty 
 in the stress of a secret pain that he bore in silence, 
 and to face an overwhelming majority with a sturdy, 
 " I don't believe a word of it ! " that never faltered. 
 " Any girl so pretty as Miss Cunningham has enemies. 
 She is allowed a lot of licence that 's her brother's 
 fault ; but I believe she 's as good, and honest, and 
 straight a little girl as I would wish my sister to 
 be ! " His championship comforted himself at any 
 rate. 
 
 Madge's engagement was talked threadbare for a 
 week, and then dropped into the sphere of things es- 
 tablished, and accepted as such. She had her cham- 
 pions beside Mowbray, if need be, Valentine Cayley, 
 Major Yeats, True, the Dodds, Cissie Redmayne, and 
 the Drysdales ; but most of these were wise in keeping 
 silence and leaving things to settle themselves. Madge 
 herself never guessed at the drift of the gossip; she 
 had no idea as yet of any breath of scandal against her ; 
 but, of course, people would discuss her one always 
 discussed the principal parties in an engagement. She 
 hoped they would be charitable, and that she should 
 come off well. She said as much to Clarice Drysdale 
 one afternoon when her friend came over to talk with 
 her. It was a mild afternoon, after a week of stormy 
 weather, and warm for the time of the year. Madge 
 and Clarice took the basket chairs out onto the stoep, 
 and basked in the sunshine as in a foretaste of sum- 
 mer. It was the beginning of September, and the 
 promise of spring was already in the air.
 
 264 The Story of Eden 
 
 Clarice settled herself with her feet upon the foot- 
 rest, and prepared to talk luxuriously. 
 
 "You know, of course, what I have come for?" she 
 said calmly. " I have come to discuss your engage- 
 ment. It is what everybody is doing for miles round, 
 so we may as well do it too. Besides there is some- 
 thing rather quaint in really criticising such a situation 
 with the principal party concerned." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose they will talk," said Madge. " I 
 hope they '11 let me off easily. I am rather a good sort 
 on the whole, don't you think, Clarice?" 
 
 " I wonder what they will say of Mr. Crofton ! He 
 shuts himself up in himself so much that he gives 
 one the aggravated feeling that one is always left 
 outside ! " 
 
 " Mind you tell me if you hear ! It would be so 
 amusing. Clarice, were you surprised? " 
 
 " No, not entirely. You see when a man and a 
 woman are staying under the same roof with each other, 
 it is probable that they will drift either into brother 
 and sister, or husband and wife. If Adam and Eve 
 had n't had Eden to themselves, it is extremely probable 
 that Adam would merely have said that Eve was a nice 
 smart little girl knew how to dress, (fig leaves !) 
 and Eve would have remarked that Adam was a dear 
 good fellow, but not at all the kind of man she could 
 marry. Do you know, Madge, I always thought that 
 after the first re-action she preferred the Snake ? " 
 
 " Don't, Clarice ! How can you be so silly?" 
 
 " Well, it merely illustrates my principle that human 
 beings are constituted that way. I once travelled 
 Home in company with a very learned man whose 
 business it was to devote himself to the mental, rather 
 than the physical education, of his fellow beings. 
 There were a great many couples on board who were 
 carrying on most promising flirtations. I remember 
 the shock it gave me when he said thoughtfully, after
 
 The Story of Eden 265 
 
 we passed Madeira, ' I should like to ship off two or 
 three of our Mutual Attractions into the uninhabited 
 islands in this group, and return in a year's time to see 
 the result ! ' It was a horrid idea, but I have since 
 thought that his experiment was a foregone conclusion." 
 
 " It is n't a very satisfactory one though ! It makes 
 me doubt the reality of any attachment. Do you 
 think all marriages are really due to opportunity and 
 propinquity?" 
 
 " A good many are. In your case, as it happened, 
 I was sceptical. I did not think you would have him, 
 Madge ! but that does not prevent my being very 
 glad." 
 
 The light had dropped lower. It lay warm on the 
 under branches of the belt of trees on the far-off 
 mountain-side. Margery looked away to the soft 
 mellow prospect, Nature's mood was one of yielding 
 tenderness at the moment, while she answered. 
 
 "Tell me why you thought so." 
 
 " Because I fancied you were afraid." 
 
 " Of marrying?" 
 
 " Of men. I know you have had a rougher time 
 than any one suspects. It always seems to me one of 
 the most hopeful signs of Human Nature," she added 
 thoughtfully, "that we turn our bright side to the 
 world, and keep our troubles to ourselves." 
 
 " Apparently I have not kept mine, as you guessed 
 it." 
 
 " Therein I take credit to myself in being keener- 
 sighted than my neighbours, for indeed, Madge, you 
 never wore your heart on your sleeve, or lamented your 
 sorrows in the market-place. But, my dear, to speak 
 plainly, a temper like your brother's is as the old pro- 
 verb about Love and a Cough it cannot be hid ! 
 There is hardly a human being in the neighbourhood 
 to whom he has not been appallingly rude at some time 
 or other, from which it is natural to guess at his domes-
 
 266 The Story of Eden 
 
 tic character, for there he is not even restrained by 
 conventional considerations and training." 
 
 The lines of the soft young face at which Mrs. 
 Drysdale looked hardened with memory, the red 
 mouth curved cynically, the voice which answered 
 her was sceptical. 
 
 " I cannot say that an intimate acquaintance with 
 Anthony is a testimonial for mankind in general as 
 companions. But whatever state of life I find myself 
 in, in the future, I don't think I can be much worse off 
 than I have been, as far as that goes, so it has had its 
 advantages in preparing me. All men have their draw- 
 backs, I suppose ; I have not discovered Lanse's yet, 
 but I should hardly expect them to be as intolerable as 
 Anthony's. I am of a hopeful nature ! " 
 
 There was a double experience prompting the cyni- 
 cal little speech, and Clarice felt it. Margery had had 
 two standards to judge by the brutally disagreeable, 
 as exemplified by her brother's ungoverned temper and 
 roughness ; and the brutally agreeable, which she re- 
 garded as the alternative, and had sampled in Vibart's 
 unrestrained indulgence of his affections. She had had 
 no opportunity of proving that there might be more re- 
 fined relations between the sexes. 
 
 " Do you know, Madge, your experience has been 
 awfully bad for you ! " Clarice said. " It is as well you 
 are marrying you are growing hard and light in your 
 estimates. You look upon all men as brutes and 
 tyrants, selfish, bestial creations from whom a woman 
 can look for nothing but a tolerable kindness which is 
 half animalism. But it isn't like that not really. 
 Mr. Crofton is n't going to knock you down if the din- 
 ner is late, or handle you like an Eastern slave girl to 
 make up afterwards ! You are all wrong and I am 
 so sorry, because I know you must have had a bad 
 breaking in to give you such an impression." 
 
 " Am I really coarse in my point of view, Clarice ? 
 Have I got that kind of mind?"
 
 The Story of Eden 267 
 
 " Oh, no ! Oh, no ! how can you think I meant that ! 
 It was only I am so sorry perhaps I could have 
 helped you when you were learning but I never 
 knew ! " 
 
 There was a silence, and the velvet light died off the 
 velvet slopes. Down below them in the vineyard the 
 green buds of the vines swelled with the breath of 
 spring, and ripened for bursting. The first madness of 
 the rising sap was in the air, and the earth's blood beat. 
 Margery shivered with the ghost of an old sensation. 
 
 " It was that time when the boys had measles I 
 could n't get at you to tell you," she said abruptly. 
 Her voice was as soft and pretty as ever. 
 
 " Yes ? I am sorry ! I am sorry ! I knew some- 
 thing had altered you. Beau told me you had grown, 
 and I know what that means from him. I am afraid 
 he was a bad acquaintance for you, Madge." 
 
 "Mr. Livingston?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "I don't think he had anything to do with it I 
 don't know. Perhaps he helped to educate me. 
 Clarice, you don't know what I would not give now to 
 be the little girl whom you found crying amongst the 
 furniture ! I never can be, and Lanse does not know 
 what he has not gained." 
 
 " I know what you mean," Mrs. Drysdale said slowly, 
 " but if it is any comfort to you, I must tell you that I 
 am sure that the little girl I found that day would never 
 have married Mr. Crofton ! Your ' education,' as you 
 call it, whatever influences went to make it, moulded 
 you into a woman to attract such a nature as his. If 
 you had merely developed in the type in which I found 
 you, you would never have felt very much or under- 
 stood very much. You would have been just a bright, 
 ordinary little soul who would have been married by 
 an ordinary young man with no great brains either. I 
 don't say you would n't have been more levelly happy,
 
 268 The Story of Eden 
 
 but you would never have come within measurable 
 distance of Lansing Crofton, though you stayed under 
 the same roof all your days ! " 
 
 Margery drew a deep breath, as if the pain of her 
 development was stronger than the pleasure of her con- 
 sequent gain. 
 
 "There is a text in the Bible which I heard in 
 church last Sunday, and which always seems to me a 
 horrible mockery," she said. " It is that about God 
 not allowing people to be tempted more than they are 
 able, but with the temptation making also a way of es- 
 cape. Don't you think it is sometimes impossible to 
 escape, Clarice? " 
 
 " Yes, and more often to resist especially for a 
 woman. If she is wise, and realises that she is not the 
 fine statue of steel and iron which she should be in 
 masculine opinion, she runs away at the first sign in 
 herself of collapse. It sometimes appals me to think 
 of the iron wills, the dogged determination, the absolute 
 superiority to all weakness, and imperviousness of 
 temptations against which they would never struggle 
 themselves, which men suppose us to possess ! I asked 
 Ossy to explain once, and he frankly said that there 
 was no experience up till now to justify men in think- 
 ing women the more invulnerable of the sexes ! Rude, 
 was n't it?" 
 
 " And supposing, as I say, you cannot escape " 
 
 "There is no supposition. The battle is probably 
 lost by divine decree. I do not always agree with the 
 Apostles, but I am superstitious enough to make a 
 higher power responsible for a failure which I cannot 
 otherwise explain. Sometimes I think that God turns 
 a deaf ear on purpose ! " 
 
 " Sometimes / think that there is no God for 
 women." 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale looked at her tenderly and pitifully. 
 " You will outgrow it, dear 1 I have been through that
 
 The Story of Eden 269 
 
 too," she said. " You will find the hardness melting out 
 of you in your home life there is nothing like happi- 
 ness for improving people. I don't believe in adversity, 
 it contracts souls, good fortune expands them like 
 sunshine. Marriage has its ups and downs, of course ; 
 but given a decent sort of man, the woman must be a 
 fool who can't make herself a comfortable, cosy corner 
 of the world in which at least she is a supreme power, 
 and which she can fill with her private and particular 
 interests. I must be hurrying home to mine, anyhow 
 Ossy will be home first if I don't." 
 
 " No one would guess how domesticated you really 
 are, Clarice ! " Madge said rather fondly, as she came 
 out of her lounging chair to stand in front of her friend 
 with her hands on her waist. 
 
 " It is so vulgar to be always flaunting one's pecu- 
 liarities in the face of the world ! " said Mrs. Drysdale, 
 looking down benevolently from her greater height. 
 " I hope I shall never be guilty of going about labelled, 
 ' I am a domestic woman ! ' Beau used to say I 
 concealed my vices admirably no one would have 
 guessed from my gowns and conversation that I knew 
 how to darn socks and make a pudding ! " 
 
 " Beau was such a looking-glass person ! He always 
 talked backwards, and it confused me. How fond you 
 were of him ! " 
 
 " Was n't I ? Most women were who knew him well. 
 He was so agile, his mind and body were in perfect 
 training. He was always well-dressed and amusing, 
 and he did not make mistakes. He was an admirable 
 person to introduce to old ladies, and women over 
 thirty, both of whom always displayed an amiable 
 weakness for him ; but I should not recommend him as 
 a guide for extreme youth ! " 
 
 " He said rather dreadful things sometimes, did n't 
 he ? " said Madge, with an irresistible chuckle. " Star- 
 ling tells me she saw him in London."
 
 270 The Story of Eden 
 
 "He had a penchant for Starling, which in less 
 decided little hands than hers might have expanded 
 into a quite uncomfortable situation. But it is a wise 
 but unlocked for precaution of Nature's that, under those 
 soft alluring characteristics of hers, Starling should hide 
 a sturdy strength of purpose which is Johnnie Dodd's 
 very own ! She is like a little brown bird to look at, 
 is n't she?" 
 
 " She can peck, though ! Poor True is in disgrace 
 just now. I can't think why, and I don't like to in- 
 quire. Ever since she came back, Starling has snubbed 
 him unmercifully." 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale began to laugh, and she went on 
 laughing all the way home. At dinner she divulged the 
 secret of her mirth to her husband. " A very pretty 
 quarrel is going on in pantomime," she said, " and the 
 cream of the joke is that the bone of contention does 
 not know that she is the bone, and is innocently won- 
 dering what has caused it." 
 
 " Clarice, if you grow enigmatical I shall dine in 
 Cape Town another night ! " protested Ossy, mildly. 
 " I thought the last development of the dynamite 
 monopoly a hard nut to crack, but you are even worse." 
 
 " I mean Starling and True," Mrs. Drysdale ex- 
 plained. " I went to see Madge to-day, and she told 
 me in all innocence that Starling is ruffling her feathers 
 up at True, and she can't think why ! " 
 
 " Well, I don't see that she is responsible. Starling 
 is a turk ! " 
 
 " And True is a weathercock ! You know he has 
 been Madge's lapdog in Starling's absence, and of 
 course the little bird is not going to allow her own 
 particular property to revert to some one else, and 
 return to her save at her own pleasure. She is far too 
 loyal to breathe a word of resentment to Madge, who is 
 really innocent in intention, but she has dropped True 
 like a red-hot coal. It is very funny ! "
 
 The Story of Eden 271 
 
 " I don't see what Starling has to complain of ! She 
 was n't here, and True only consoled himself in her 
 absence ! " 
 
 " Unfortunately he consoled himself once too often 
 in her presence ! He was still ready to be Madge's 
 devoted slave after Starling's return ; but Madge got 
 engaged, and then True went to Starling for sympathy, 
 and Starling metaphorically boxed his ears ! " 
 
 " True is such a general lover that his deviations do 
 not count," said Ossy. " I had an idea that Starling 
 would get engaged when she went Home. I wonder 
 she returned still free." 
 
 Madge sat still on the stoep for some time after her 
 guest had gone. It grew chill and dark, but she did 
 not heed it, for she was thinking. She had never said 
 as much to any mortal being about her past experi- 
 ence as she had to Mrs. Drysdale ; but she had said all 
 she had to say. She knew that she would go no fur- 
 ther. Her speech with regard to Tess that she should 
 "never, never have told her secret," was born of a 
 deep conviction. She would never breathe more than 
 she had to Clarice, that vague outline of a crisis in 
 her life, which both from her own and Clarice's wording 
 might have been attributable to Beaumont Livingston, 
 and she would guard the secret in all probability to 
 the end of her days, growing more and more jealous 
 of any discovery as years went by and cased her more 
 firmly in her armour of respectability. Nevertheless, 
 she suffered as much, or more, than if she stood con- 
 fessed a sinner. Madge had accomplished the thing 
 she had tacitly demanded of Providence, to cast her 
 past and its actions utterly behind her, to stand free, 
 untrammelled by discovery or criticism, and start again, 
 as a man might do. And she failed exactly as ninety- 
 nine out of a hundred women must, who claim an equal- 
 ity with men, by the very nature of their sex. The cry 
 against the injustice of one law for women, and another
 
 272 The Story of Eden 
 
 for men, is rendered unprofitable by the women them- 
 selves, who have really been at the foundation of such 
 laws. A woman demands to be as a man, free to sow her 
 wild oats, repent, and start again, unquestioned for her 
 past, so long as her present and future are clean ; good, 
 if she is not found out she may do it. But she also 
 demands to feel herself on a higher level, to give her 
 new lord everything, to come to him, fresh and unsul- 
 lied, virgin and from the hand of God, or is she racked 
 by a sense of loss, of conscience, and of incomplete- 
 ness, a divided loyalty. I speak not of the vauricns 
 of both sexes, who are sufficiently hardened to love no 
 human being but themselves, and therefore have no 
 standard but their own aggrandisement. But take any 
 man who is a decent, straight-living fellow, decent 
 as men go among his fellow men, will he, when he 
 settles down and marries, be the prey of remorse be- 
 cause he has lived as men do? If he have no slips of 
 virtue to regret he is hardly a man, is a universal ver- 
 dict ; he probably will regret them, to the extent of 
 a passing fervent assertion that women are saints or 
 angels, and men not fit to touch their hands, delivered 
 during his engagement or honeymoon. We all have 
 our puritanic hour. But the good fellow (recognised 
 as such by his fellow men) is a healthy, hearty ani- 
 mal, not prone to ascetic fanaticism, or morbid senti- 
 ment. He is very sorry he will go straight in future, 
 and be faithful to the most angelic of her sex, but his 
 peccadilloes do not greatly trouble him, possibly be- 
 cause he knows they would not greatly trouble her. On 
 the other hand, the woman does not take the same 
 view of herself : she also is very sorry ; but her sorrow 
 is a desperate hunted thing, partaking of despair ; she, 
 also, will be faithful, she swears it on her knees, with 
 agony and bloody sweat, and it haunts her waking 
 thoughts and nightly dreams, until every thought be- 
 stowed on other men partakes of disloyalty. She frets
 
 The Story of Eden 273 
 
 because she is not immaculate, though she alone knows 
 it. Woman is her own executioner, and in this ques- 
 tion of absolution for past sins, she will never be the 
 equal of the broader, baser, less finely balanced male. 
 
 It is possible that Lansing Crofton's past would have 
 borne less inspection than Margery Cunningham's, but 
 that disturbed him not at all, and would have been no 
 comfort to her had it been proved to her. She sat 
 long into the growing dark, as Eve sat once in Eden, 
 and her God walked in the Garden in his wrath, 
 though Adam heard him not. In the midst of her 
 retrospect she started, for she caught an actual step 
 that she knew, a strong man's step that ground the 
 earth as one who had a right to tread; Margery 
 smoothed the thought out of her face, and went to 
 meet him. She had not seen him that day, for pro- 
 priety had driven him away from Vine Lodge as soon 
 as his engagement to her was announced, and he was 
 staying at Cogill's. 
 
 "Well, my darling?" Crofton said fondly, with his 
 arm round her shoulders. "What have you been 
 doing with yourself? Have you missed me?" 
 
 Vibart's old, invariable question ! She winced in- 
 wardly at the ghost that threatened to stalk perpetually 
 beside her. I take it men are singularly unoriginal 
 when they make love, or pray. Woman and the Deity 
 have been perpetually hearing the same thing from 
 the beginning of speech. 
 
 "Oh, Clarice Mrs. Drysdale, you know came 
 to tea. How 's the house getting on, Lanse ? " 
 
 " It is nearly ready for its little mistress ! " 
 
 " You don't ask if she is ready for it ! " 
 
 " No, because I know you love me ! " 
 
 "What has that to do with it? " 
 
 " If you want me as I want you, you won't keep me 
 waiting " 
 
 Margery held her breath, almost expecting him to 
 18
 
 274 The Story of Eden 
 
 say that they must be " all in all " to each other. She 
 had an hysterical desire to shriek to hurl the truth 
 at him to do anything to escape from this nightmare 
 of repetition. Vibart had said all that, and more. 
 Nothing was new to her ; there was no rapture of fresh 
 bliss that she had not tried, and tasted, and found pall 
 upon her. It seemed that her first lover had drained 
 the language of fond sentiments, as he had of endear- 
 ments. She found herself looking, with horrible eager- 
 ness, for a new name that Jack had not robbed of its 
 sweetness. 
 
 "Come round the garden with me," Crofton said, 
 drawing her closer to him. " Let 's go and look for 
 violets ! There is such a beautiful moon coming up." 
 
 " It 's late, and I must go and dress for dinner. 
 Anthony will be cross if we are not ready," said Mar- 
 gery, wearily. " You know there won't be any violets, 
 Lanse. It 's too early. And even if there were they 
 never have any scent now."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 * Come slowly, Eden ! 
 
 Lips unused to thee, 
 Bashful, sip thy jasmines 
 Like the fainting bee" 
 
 MARGERY was married in December, a short time be- 
 fore Christmas. The wedding had been delayed with 
 one thing and another until the middle of the sum- 
 mer, but there were advantages to be gained with the 
 hot season. Vine Lodge wore a gala appearance in 
 the midst of its roses and oleanders, and the wedding 
 guests could swarm out from the confinement of the 
 rooms into the garden. Indeed they spread onto the 
 high banks above the tennis court, down into the vine- 
 yard, through the fir-tree plantation, and into the 
 kitchen garden, carrying the froth of their conversation 
 and the wedding champagne even among the mealies, 
 for they were a goodly company. Madge had philosoph- 
 ically decided that as she would only run the risk of 
 one more uproar from her brother, and would probably 
 be beyond the reach of his tongue when the storm 
 broke, she would for once launch out, and recklessly 
 sent invitations to half the suburbs. They all came, 
 from Simon's Town even out to Green Point, and Vine 
 Lodge was strained to accommodate a full measure, 
 pressed down and running over. It was a warm day, a 
 day of ideal summer, such as the English only talk of in 
 England and hardly ever experience. As Madge put 
 on her wedding-dress she looked out of her window, 
 
 " And saw the sky 
 
 As blue a- Aaron's priestly robe appeared 
 To Aaron when he took it off to die."
 
 276 The Story of Eden 
 
 Her bedroom overlooked the wide green stretch of 
 country which, in its virginal freshness, had first put her 
 in mind of the Garden of Eden. It was the same 
 view upon which she had looked on that morning after 
 Vibart's unexpected return, and the ensnarement of the 
 vineyard. She looked at it for the last time as she ar- 
 rayed herself with Mrs. Drysdale's assistance, and the 
 smiling sunlit earth, teeming with multitudinous life 
 and fertility, struck her with a sudden sense of beauty 
 and sympathy. She realised that the familiarity of the 
 scene had endeared it to her, and that she should miss 
 it as the face of a friend. 
 
 "I do hope you won't lose your colour, Madge," 
 Clarice said anxiously. "You make such a pretty 
 bride as you are, but if you get nervous and grow white 
 you will look as if you were fading into your dress." 
 
 "There won't be much chance for me under all 
 this veil ; I am nearly suffocated with the heat as it 
 is ! " said the bride, looking at her image in the glass, 
 and speaking lightly to stifle the upbraiding conscience 
 which was again loud in her ears. Her cheeks were 
 hot with excitement, and her blue eyes with fright. 
 " I will not draw back ! I cannot draw back ! " she 
 repeated endlessly ; and her heart seemed to respond, 
 " You are no bride, but a living lie." It had not been 
 so difficult to thrust all scruples into the background, 
 during the busy full days of her engagement ; she had 
 caught at happiness eagerly, and contrary to the theo- 
 retical way of transgressors, had found it easy and 
 satisfying. Besides, before the thing was absolutely 
 done, she could shift her responsibility, did conscience 
 prick too hard, by a feint at even now turning back. 
 Madge's wholesome healthy nature did not entice her 
 to brood ; she demanded happiness by instinct as the 
 proper state of humanity, as all creatures not diseased 
 by morbid creeds and education do demand it. It was 
 only in a crisis in her existence that she was overcome
 
 The Story of Eden 277 
 
 by inherited superstition to think that her recoil from 
 pain was a thing to be overcome and striven against. 
 Apart from the accusations of her wedding-morning, 
 her emotions were those of any other woman, who is 
 a widow. There was an inevitable comparison, and 
 forecasting one experience from another, which, if she 
 had had an open right to her widowhood, would have 
 been merely natural. 
 
 A summer wedding in the suburbs is rather a pretty 
 sight, because the men mostly wear light suits and 
 straw hats, and none of the women venture on any- 
 thing more sober than a full-blooded violet. Madge 
 was married in the old grey church at Kenilworth, to 
 which she had to drive a mile, but which was infinitely 
 preferable in its mellow greys and greens to the bald 
 building opposite the Camp meadows, which was 
 obligingly rendered further impossible by alterations 
 which were taking place in the roof. The sunlight 
 which stares down the blank walls of this hideous little 
 building is softened to a more becoming radiance in 
 the sanctified gloom at Kenilworth, and the congrega- 
 tion there present had their feelings soothed instead of 
 harrowed during the ceremony. 
 
 "We are all doomed to greasiness by the heat in 
 any case," Polly Harbord said candidly. " But at 
 least it will not be so woefully apparent as it would 
 have been at Wynberg." 
 
 As Margery settled herself in the carriage after the 
 service, to drive back to Vine Lodge, she turned fever- 
 ishly to her new-made husband. " Lanse, let us have 
 the windows down, please ! " she said. " It is so 
 hot." 
 
 "Are you faint, dear?" he said anxiously, as he did 
 as she desired. 
 
 " A little it was the smell of the flowers. I shall 
 be all right in a minute. No, please, don't touch me 
 yet let me breathe."
 
 2y 8 The Story of Eden 
 
 She threw back her veil and leaned towards the open 
 window. The carriage was forced to pass along the 
 main road, avoiding the tram lines as best might be. 
 A group of Kaffir children stood on the dusty sideway 
 under the sun-smitten fir-trees; they clapped and 
 cheered as they caught a glimpse of the bride. Mar- 
 gery shrank back, her gaze resting vaguely on the 
 winding, picturesque road, dappled with the black 
 shadows of the trees, and the patches of strong white 
 sunshine. Crofton put his arm round her as she 
 withdrew from the window, and said, " My wife ! " 
 his voice sunk to the full-throated depth of sudden 
 feeling. 
 
 "My wife ! " Not even did this come for the first 
 time to ears robbed of its sacredness by the thieving 
 whisper of another voice. It was her punishment, that, 
 at a moment which should have been all her husband's 
 in its full tenderness, she should, in a flash of fancy, be 
 back in a shaded room, singing at the piano some 
 one opened a door and said a name a brilliant 
 gleaming figure was coming towards her two strong 
 arms caught her up, and a gay voice struggled in her 
 memory with Crofton's 
 
 " Little wife ! " 
 
 She turned to her real companion and kissed him al- 
 most desperately, thrusting the ghost of a dead yester- 
 day aside. 
 
 Crofton took Margery Up Country for their honey- 
 moon. It was a somewhat rough experience, but one 
 which she had coveted. They covered many more 
 miles than most honeymooners, owing to the vast char- 
 acteristics of the country, and Margery found her im- 
 pressions of the continent, in which she had lived for 
 two years, undergoing a rapid enlargement. Her ex- 
 perience of Colonial cities being limited to Cape Town, 
 Johannesburg and Durban and Port Elizabeth were
 
 The Story of Eden 279 
 
 somewhat unexpected. But, better than the towns 
 themselves, with their florid pretensions to civilisation, 
 she liked the vast stoniness of the Karroo, and the 
 sense of space which the open veld gave her. Some 
 kinship to this giant foster-country, into which Fate had 
 tossed her hap- hazard, was always in her soul, from the 
 first premonition among the silences of Hout's Bay. 
 She had a curiously engrafted feeling upon Africa, a sus- 
 picion that the actual expanding of her lungs, in its un- 
 limited miles of uncontaminated air, was an outward 
 and visible symbol of the widening of her soul since 
 her detachment from a safe band-box life in England. 
 It had been a painful development ; the emancipation 
 had at one time felt like being utterly lost in a fathom- 
 less firmament ; but when her soul had regained the 
 sense of its own orbit, the immense freedom remained, 
 with better fixed and more dependable boundaries. 
 
 Crofton had business in Johannesburg, and they 
 stayed there longer than in the other towns. He went 
 about and talked with old acquaintances men he 
 knew, and gathered impressions. He had his own 
 opinion, which did not tally with that of most Johan- 
 nesburg men, and began to slowly adjust his affairs with 
 a comprehensive view of the Transvaal Government. A 
 few men in South Africa were beginning to detach 
 their interests from the country, in those days ; Crofton 
 was probably among the very first, but his prudence 
 was newly born. During that period of his life which 
 was lived in Johannesburg, he was known as a daring 
 speculator, one of the coolest, most successful, and 
 keenest gamblers over the mines. Like many men, his 
 marriage had opened a new terror to him, on which he 
 had never bestowed a thought before ; he was haunted 
 by a fear that he would die and leave Madge unpro- 
 vided for a fear which usually attacks men with small 
 incomes, after the honeymoon. Crofton's income was 
 not small, but his investments were almost entirely made
 
 280 The Story of Eden 
 
 in the country which he knew, and about whose re- 
 sources he could use his judgment. He enjoyed the 
 management of his own affairs, a speculation here, a 
 disposing of risky shares, held just long enough to make 
 it a profitable transaction, there, according to his own 
 excellent knowledge, just as any man does the exercise 
 of an undeniable talent. Crofton's knowledge had been 
 acquired with care and study, but his use of it was a 
 gift which he could not have gained with a life's ex- 
 perience. Margery did not know, until long after- 
 wards, that, during her wedding tour, her husband re- 
 constructed his affairs sufficiently to leave her property 
 soundly based on investments slow and sure enough to 
 have satisfied a trustee, and had he died a month after 
 his marriage she would have found herself possessed of 
 an income which would not fluctuate with the glorious 
 uncertainty attendant on the fortunes of Johannesburg. 
 
 Some vague outline of possibilities loomed in his 
 musing conversation with Madge while on their return 
 journey. 
 
 "Well, how have you enjoyed the trip?" he said. 
 They were returning by train, neither of them being 
 very good sailors. 
 
 " Oh, immensely ! I like seeing new places, and 
 Africa interests me. What enormous possibilities there 
 are in the country ! " 
 
 " Yes. You would n't rather have gone Home for a 
 honeymoon then?" 
 
 " No " Madge spoke with her usual decision when 
 she had had occasion to make up her mind. " I should 
 like to go Home some day, and introduce you to my 
 people ; but for my honeymoon, I infinitely prefer to 
 have you to myself in the Karroo." 
 
 " It 's large enough for us both, anyway, and not over 
 populated," Crofton said, with a satisfied laugh. " Who 
 are your people, Madge darling? I hardly knew that 
 you had any."
 
 The Story of Eden 281 
 
 "I haven't, at least they are small and few. I have 
 two impossible aunts ; one is the widow of a clergy- 
 man, and the other is devoted to Homoeopathy and the 
 Book of Job. They are my father's sisters, and some- 
 how they seem more Anthony's aunts than mine. But 
 I always lived with them until I came out here. Can 
 you imagine what a change I found it from a sleepy 
 country town and the Book of Job?" 
 
 " Was there much of Job about it, then? " 
 
 " Not latterly, but all my childhood is associated 
 with boils and wailing I don't know why, but that is 
 all that occurs to me when I think of Job. Aunt Mary 
 used always to read me portions of Scripture on Sun- 
 day afternoon. I can see the sleepy, hazy world out- 
 side those closed drawing-room windows now, the 
 green living world at which I was never supposed to 
 look. I do think it is cruel to bore children with Bible 
 stories, don't you ? All the interesting parts are slurred 
 over, because they are so improper, and the poor 
 things get the bald outlines of Joseph in the pit 
 Esau's mess of pottage Abraham and Isaac. If I 
 ever I mean if there were " 
 
 She broke down into helpless glorious confusion. 
 Lansing looked up, laughing wickedly, and drew her 
 to him. " Go on, if there were well? " he said. 
 
 " they should never be told Bible history as 
 stories a powder-in-jam kind of trick, I always think 
 it, that breaks down in the very telling, for you are 
 bound to add, ' It is all true, you know,' which does 
 away with the story." 
 
 " I hope ' they ' will appreciate their emancipation, 
 that 's all. Are n't you rather previous, Madge? " 
 
 " Lanse, I do think it is horrid of you to take it per- 
 sonally. I was merely generalising." 
 
 "It seems a heating process. Look at these 
 cheeks ! " She smuggled her flushed face against his 
 shoulder and said, " Tell me about your own belong- 
 ings ! "
 
 282 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I Ve got an old father down in Norfolk. I wrote 
 and told him about my marriage, and I expect his 
 answer will greet us at the Rosary. He is a crusty old 
 chap, nearly bed-ridden. I have n't seen him for ten 
 years." 
 
 " Did n't you ever go Home, Lanse ? " 
 
 "No, there was nothing to go for, and everything to 
 be gained by staying here and sticking to business. I 
 had quarrelled with some of the family, too, and did n't 
 want to meet them." 
 
 " Have you brothers? " 
 
 " Yes. I 'm the third son. I don't care much 
 about them, or they for me. We are all too firmly 
 fixed in our own opinions to get on." 
 
 " I don't doubt it ! But I think I should be civil to 
 them if I were you. There is something so underbred 
 in quarrelling with relations. It is like discussing your 
 private affairs in public, for these things advertise 
 themselves. If you can't get on, you can surely hold 
 your peace ! " 
 
 " But if you do that they think they are in the 
 right." 
 
 " Never mind, it does n't matter what they think. 
 An armed peace seems to me a positive necessity in a 
 family. Don't please quarrel with Anthony, whatever 
 you do ! He is trying, but I managed to live with him 
 for two years, and you are only in the same neighbour- 
 hood." 
 
 " I shall probably leave him alone so long as he does 
 me. I think we '11 go Home in the spring, Madge I 
 mean the English autumn. It may be as well." 
 
 " What do you mean? " 
 
 " I think there 's going to be a row things are 
 drawing to a head, that 's all. I should like to take 
 you Home first anyhow, and settle you in England, 
 whether I came out again and went into the thick of it 
 (as I own I should like) or no. The position in
 
 The Story of Eden 283 
 
 Johannesburg has been untenable for some time, and 
 either the Transvaal Government must reform the Civil 
 Service, or " 
 
 " Do you mean that we shall go to war? " 
 " I very much doubt if they would fight. They 
 might, of course, and then well, I can't say." 
 " Surely you don't think we should be beaten ! " 
 " I don't doubt our men, my dear. What I doubt is 
 the Home Government. They have never taken us very 
 seriously. It will take a good deal of prodding to wake 
 them up to the fact that there is a necessity for action, 
 and while they are still rubbing their eyes, the Transvaal 
 will be making preparations. Then we shall, in a 
 leisurely fashion, begin to dribble out troops, and in 
 the mean time Cape Colony will be fermenting on its 
 own account. That is where the real disaster might 
 occur. It is just possible that after the row is settled, 
 they may understand the meaning of Progressists and 
 Bondmen in England." 
 
 Margery opened her eyes. Lanse very seldom 
 stated his convictions, but when he did speak they had 
 a way of being both forcible and surprising. She had 
 heard plenty of the politics of the country, but hitherto 
 they had been flavoured by the atmospheric influence 
 of Cape Town ; she was getting a glimpse of another 
 point of view in the lurid light of Johannesburg. Men 
 stood nearer to the trouble there, and felt it always 
 brewing. Furthermore, separated as they were from 
 the immediate supervision of a British Government, 
 they lost the sense of things British, and did not feel, 
 her power by any means omnipotent. Crofton was 
 very English in the soul of him, but he had rubbed off 
 his insular faith in the Island, and saw her at sufficient 
 distance to realise her limits. The most hopeful point 
 in the matter, to his mind, was the underestimation in 
 which he believed the Dutch to hold the military 
 strength of England. Those living on the spot, and
 
 284 The Story of Eden 
 
 with traditional failures fresh in their minds, did not, 
 however, realise that England might also underestimate 
 the military strength of the Dutch. But it was an un- 
 developed speculation to Crofton on his wedding tour, 
 and one which only weighed in influencing him to 
 secure himself against a possible mischance. 
 
 Almost the first person whom Margery encountered on 
 her return was Beaumont Livingston. He had come out 
 again, he said, because they had fallen into a disgusting 
 habit of east winds in England, and the doctor ordered 
 him off to warmer lands. A suspiciously weak chest 
 lurked under Beau's immaculate shirtfronts, and was 
 the only traitor to him in exposing him as a delicate 
 man, despite his even health and active habits. 
 
 " The draughts on the steamer were enough to doom 
 a Hercules," he said to Madge. " I caught a cold 
 and lost my temper, two things I could well have re- 
 versed to my own satisfaction. The stewards always 
 left the saloon doors open too; I daresay you have 
 observed that stewards are natural murderers, just as 
 people on board are natural thieves. (I lost most of 
 my rugs, and all my books and papers, by the way.) It 
 is something in the sea air induces it." 
 
 " I am glad we did n't come back from Durban by 
 sea. We brought several Karosses Up Country, and I 
 should have been sorry to lose them." 
 
 " You would n't possess one now, if you had. I can- 
 not think why they do not add a few private detectives 
 and a policeman to their staff on board. I shall sug- 
 gest it to Donald Currie. He is a man who is espe- 
 cially quick to see a great idea and pounce upon it. I 
 only meant to go to Madeira, but the New Hotel 
 looked cold, and I knew no one there, and it rained, and 
 somehow before I knew where I was we had stopped 
 in Cape Town docks. Most annoying ! So you are 
 married ? How very enterprising that was of you ! "* 
 
 " Was n't it ! Have you met my husband ? "
 
 The Story of Eden 285 
 
 " Yes, he seems to be a nice fellow ; but you would 
 know best of course. I don't wish to be hasty. Why 
 did n't you wait for me? " 
 
 "There was too much competition," said Madge, 
 gravely, suppressing the faintest suspicion of dimples. 
 " If I had married you I should have expected all my 
 friends to ask me to tea and poison it." 
 
 " Like Mrs. Naseby's story of the girls who all wanted 
 to nurse her when she fell ill. ' No, thank you, my 
 dears,' she used to say. 'You are all too fond of 
 Reggie.' You would n't fancy any one being too fond 
 of Reggie, would you ? " 
 
 " Well, I can't say Mr. Naseby attracts me. I should 
 not have decided on him as the motive for the crime, 
 if any one had poisoned Mrs. Naseby." 
 
 " No, I think she might have looked nearer home. 
 I have sometimes felt that to choke her would be a good 
 and useful act. Apropos of nothing, Madge, I am 
 going to use your Christian name, now that you are 
 married. A married woman is so much more defence- 
 less than a girl, that it is ridiculous to be formal with 
 her." 
 
 " Very well. Do you expect " 
 
 "Winter sunsets in England are over-rated," re- 
 marked Beau, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her face. 
 " No, I don't expect. Expectation is for fools. My 
 knowledge of your sex amounts to certainty." 
 
 " I did n't want to do anything which you might 
 have regarded as questionable taste," said Madge, 
 frankly. 
 
 " You could not." 
 
 " Thank you. Well, of course you must know that 
 we all call you Beau behind your back ! " 
 
 " How very charming of you ! My own beauty has, 
 of course, always been patent to me. Still it is nice to 
 have such an opinion so delicately confirmed." 
 
 " And you know," Margery remarked, when she re-
 
 286 The Story of Eden 
 
 peated the incident for Mrs. Drysdale's entertainment, 
 " I felt there was some truth even in his nonsense. He 
 really is beautiful, Clarice. I thought so more than 
 ever, yesterday." 
 
 " He is looking very well just now," Mrs. Drysdale 
 admitted. " The voyage set him up, but I am afraid 
 he was really ill before he left England, poor old fellow. 
 No one realises that Beau can have a weakness, but his 
 lungs are not sound, really." 
 
 " He always seems so well." 
 
 "Yes, and his spirits are so good. But it is one of 
 the tragedies of this place, to me, that many of our 
 nicest, brightest friends and acquaintances those who 
 are readiest for everything and never seem to tire 
 could not be the same everywhere. Mrs. Redmayne, 
 for instance, can't live in England ; the damp kills her. 
 It is just as if they were buoyed up by the African sun- 
 shine. And yet how gay we all are ! " 
 
 Clarice had dropped in at the Rosary in passing, and 
 caught Madge in the garden. They were standing 
 among the standard roses, talking, and overlooking the 
 Camp road, for the garden was an old Dutch Tuin, 
 built in terraces, and the gate was on a lower level 
 down various flights of steps. Margery revelled in the 
 garden ; it was full of flowers and fruit, and the natural 
 luxuriance of growing things in that climate had caused 
 them to overflow the prim Dutch borders and make a 
 fair wilderness in which she could wander. 
 
 "Where's Mr. Crofton?" Clarice asked, as she 
 turned reluctantly towards the gate. " It 's so nice and 
 cool here I don't want to go back into that hot dusty 
 road." 
 
 " He 's ridden over to the wine farm. You have no 
 idea what a great resource that wine farm is ! He 
 would be wretched with nothing to do, and he has great 
 ideas of making it pay." 
 
 " I daresay he will. He is a very sensible man, any- 
 way. You look much better, Madge 1 "
 
 The Story of Eden 287 
 
 " I was n't ill, Clarice only the wedding fagged me, 
 rather." 
 
 " I don't mean that. You have lost the hard look 
 and ways about which I warned you." 
 
 " I am very happy ! " 
 
 " Ah ! you are finding out that what I said was 
 true." 
 
 "Clarice, do you think it can last?" 
 
 "Of course it can unless you expect your whole 
 life to be exactly like your honeymoon. Then you will 
 be disappointed." 
 
 " Oh, no I don't mean that. I should n't like it ! 
 I know it sounds odd, but I think I like the quiet 
 affection of every-day life better than being always 
 in extremes. Of course you must be for a little while, 
 but it 's very comfortable to settle down." 
 
 "That will last, dear, anyway." 
 
 " Will it ? Do you think any human being is ever 
 allowed to be perfectly happy for long ? Oh, Clarice, I 
 am content with very little ! I don't think I ever asked 
 very much of life. I am not very ambitious, even 
 socially. I like to know nice people, but I never aimed 
 at being in with the Government House set, as so many 
 women here do. My home and my husband are quite 
 sufficient for me, and would be so even if Lanse had 
 been a poor man, so long as we cared for each other. 
 I only want to be happy and content in my own small 
 way ! " 
 
 Her voice was almost passionate with the supersti- 
 tious fear which haunts human beings who have seen 
 their treasures in danger of being swept from them by 
 a ruthless power of which they may not ask questions. 
 The inward dread that she had no right to the happi- 
 ness she had taken sometimes beset Margery. She held 
 her breath lest Providence should be angry at her pre- 
 sumption and bring her beautiful palace of delight 
 tumbling down about her ears. Yet she had, as she
 
 288 The Story of Eden 
 
 said, been very happy in her marriage, with a warm 
 increasing home-happiness which she rightly treasured. 
 She felt so secure in her husband's Jove, and her own 
 escape from the past ; and as yet no premonition of 
 any slur cast on her name had reached her. She 
 walked with closed eyes and ears in her golden dream, 
 unconscious that her secret had even been suspicioned 
 in the most remote fashion. 
 
 " One almost feels that if one asks so little, Provi- 
 dence must be propitious. But one can't say one 
 can't say ! " Mrs. Drysdale said slowly. " Look at poor 
 V. C. ! He didn't ask very much he was only weak 
 where a woman was concerned, and if she made him 
 think she understood him and appreciated him, he was 
 like wax in her hands. V. C. always fancied himself 
 an exceptional man, and it has been his disaster. He 
 was only over-sensitive and easily managed ; but the 
 Gods' sense of humour strikes me as a grim one in his 
 case ! There 's a cycle going by, Madge, two of 
 them ! Who is it ? " 
 
 " Polly Harbord and some man. Polly ! Polly ! 
 Are n't you coming in?" 
 
 She ran along the terrace and looked over the hedge 
 to nod good-morning, her face smiling out from a frame 
 of plumbago, for the delicate blue flowers made a screen 
 between the garden and the road. 
 
 " Yes, I 'm coming ! " called Polly, gaily. " How are 
 you? Where shall 1 put the bicycle?" 
 
 " Leave it inside the gate. Come along Mrs. 
 Drysdale is here ! " 
 
 " Well, how are you both ! " Polly said as she ran up 
 the steps. She looked her usual cool smart self, though 
 her face was flushed with the heat. " Is n't it a day ! 
 Are you glad to get back, Madge ? " 
 
 " Yes, but it was awfully interesting. Have you been 
 doing much? I was sorry to miss the Sapper's ball. 
 Was it good ? "
 
 The Story of Eden 289 
 
 " Yes, awfully jolly. Mrs. Hand-painted Lady came 
 in no clothes to speak of, and Lilla Cayley was there 
 too in the supper-room. I was sorry for V. C. 
 They could n't get her out." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! It makes my heart ache the more I 
 hear of Mr. Cayley's domestic affairs. Who was with 
 you just now, Polly? " 
 
 " Teddy Barton. He caught me up just outside 
 Vine Lodge. I say, Madge, it 's such a joke ! Did 
 you know your brother was taken captive by the Hand- 
 painted One and paraded all round the paddock at the 
 kst gymkana ? " 
 
 ""Anthony ! at a race meeting ! " 
 
 " Yes, and with Mrs. Cromo Dame. Oh, she made 
 him go, depend upon it ! I asked him what tribe of 
 insects he was studying at Kenilworth, and he smiled 
 his ugliest and said butterflies and caddis-worms ! 
 caddish-worms, see ? I had no idea that he knew how 
 to apply his natural rudeness so well ! " 
 
 " But I can't get over it ! " said Madge, gasping. 
 " Blanche must be a clever woman ! " 
 
 " She will be too clever for the Professor, if he does n't 
 look out. Ah, by the way, Teddy told me some news. 
 You know the Duke's Colonel was ill ?" 
 
 " Poor old man ! Yes, the Subs said the War Office 
 meant to finish him off out here. Is he worse? " 
 
 " Dead ! " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! The second in eighteen months I 
 The Duke's will get a name for finishing their chiefs ! " 
 
 " He caught typhoid," said Polly, in explanation. 
 " They think the Camp was unhealthy, and it is being 
 moved, or seen to or something, now it 's too late. 
 Several of the men had a touch of fever, and I suppose 
 the Colonel was in bad health, as his was the only fatal 
 case. Have you heard who is to take his place? " 
 
 No " 
 
 " Jack Vibart. It 's nearly sure, though I don't know
 
 290 The Story of Eden 
 
 if it 's Official yet. But he has got his promotion, and 
 in all probability will come out again as Colonel. Is n't 
 he lucky !" 
 
 Margery was hardly aware of drawing a breath before 
 she heard her own laugh, and her voice saying natu- 
 rally, " Well, at all events I am glad it is some one we 
 know ! It will be much nicer to have Major Vibart 
 than a stranger." She had the desperate feeling that 
 whatever happened she must save the pause she dreaded 
 after Polly's announcement. 
 
 " He is coming out at once I should think he 
 would start as soon as he is officially appointed," Polly 
 added carelessly. "Are you playing in the Duke's 
 Tennis Tournament, Mrs. Drysdale? You know the 
 Rutlandshires are lending the Camp ground, Madge? " 
 
 " No, are they ? I am glad. It is such a pretty 
 garden, and I do like things going on at Camp. We 
 have been dreadfully dull since the Duke's went." 
 
 Madge spoke mechanically still. She kept her smil- 
 ing face until her chance guests departed, and stood on 
 the steps watching them off down the road, and calling 
 a laughing farewell after them. Then she turned slowly 
 back through the roses, and went into the house and up 
 to her own room. She examined her face in the glass 
 anxiously; had she betrayed the least disturbance, she 
 feared Polly's sharp eyes, but the mask of soft youth 
 and health which Nature had given her was her safest 
 guard. " I know I did not change colour that was 
 the only thing to fear," she thought, moving restlessly 
 about the room. "But who would have thought of 
 this ! It seems impossible. In my wildest moments, 
 when I imagined what evil trick Fate could play me, 
 I never thought of his coming out again. And yet how 
 natural ! I might have expected it." With an impa- 
 tient movement, as if to be still were impossible, she 
 tossed some pretty frippery on the table on one side, 
 and disclosed the little brown poetry book which by
 
 The Story of Eden 291 
 
 chance she had left lying there. Madge had meant to 
 destroy the volume on her marriage, but it was some- 
 what difficult to burn a whole, strongly bound book in 
 the small grates and seldom lighted fires of her brother's 
 house, and she feared comment. She had kept it for a 
 better opportunity. Now, as she turned the leaves and 
 read his name on the titlepage in that unknown woman's 
 handwriting, it occurred to her that she could send it 
 back to Vibart and then her eyes fell on this 
 
 " I cried for madder music and for stronger wine ; 
 But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire, 
 Then falls thy shadow, . . . the night is thine ; 
 And I am desolate and sick of an old passion " 
 
 She flung it from her, shuddering. That morbid sen- 
 sual cry of a soul reverting to its lost gods sickened 
 her. " I have been faithful to thee in my fashion." 
 It was like a hideous reproach to her. She looked 
 mentally from her present to her past, and it seemed 
 to her that she had been faithful to neither of the men 
 whom she had professed to love. That old doubt of 
 the reality of her own emotions which had made her 
 aghast in the first re-action of her feeling for Vibart, 
 beset her again suddenly. 
 
 " And I was desolate and sick of an old passion, 
 Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire ! " 
 
 This lurid, debauched confession of sexual experiences 
 had yet a tardy merit of faith to a first love 
 
 " I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion." 
 
 It appeared, somehow, terrible to Madge that she had 
 no least attraction towards Vibart left. New-made 
 wife though she was, she felt as if her very absorp- 
 tion in Crofton stripped her of the least excuse for 
 that former passion. She could not recall a grain 
 of sentiment for Vibart; the whole experience only 
 seemed to her horrible and vulgar. She wondered
 
 292 The Story of Eden 
 
 how she could have felt as she must have done to 
 make it possible, ... as she ought to have felt once 
 and for always to make it pardonable to her jangled 
 conscience. 
 
 " I have not even been faithful in my fashion ! " she 
 said half recklessly, locking the book up in a drawer. 
 " I seem to have a horrible, degraded nature. But I 
 don't care for anything but keeping Lanse's love if 
 Jack Vibart were dead I should not care ! and yet, 
 once, I could do that" 
 
 A voice called her from below, and her husband's 
 step sounded across the wide square hall. " Madge ! " 
 called Crofton, cheerily. " Where are you ? Come 
 down to luncheon. I am as hungry as a hunter ! " 
 
 The trivial sweet familiarity of everyday things faced 
 her vividly in the happy confidence of his tones. It 
 looked doubly precious in the peril of the threatened 
 future. She turned from her troubled musings deter- 
 minedly, and training her lips to their usual smile, ran 
 down the stairs to meet him.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 * The tale was true. Marriage is of the world, 
 Dreams are the Garden, and the Serpent, Fate, 
 And Lave is still the Angel at the Gate." 
 
 MRS. DRYSDALE stopped at Friedenhof on her way 
 home, and went in to see Starling, in reference to a 
 doll show which was to take place at Rosebank for the 
 benefit of certain Missions, and for which the female 
 population of the neighbourhood were very busy making 
 clothes. 
 
 " I want to know if you have any scraps of flannel 
 you can let me have," she said, sitting down in the 
 middle of the dressmaking operations. " I suppose 
 Lady Jane Grey did wear flannel petticoats. At any 
 rate I am dressing her with one." 
 
 " It is so difficult to avoid anacronisms, is n't it ? " 
 said Starling, with a sigh, pushing a singularly naked 
 black doll on one side to hunt for flannel. " There is 
 one comfort in dressing Kaffirs, they need have nothing 
 underneath. A blanket and beads is full dress for 
 them ! " 
 
 " My dear Starling, I do hope you confine yourself 
 strictly to the dolls, when you say so ! What is that 
 waxen beauty going to be?" 
 
 " A court lady. It 's so much easier to manage 
 modern dress. I always get mixed when I try a cer- 
 tain period. Is n't that brocade pretty ? There is 
 just enough for the train." 
 
 " It is the same you wore at the Sapper's dance, 
 is n't it ? You looked particularly nice that night, 
 Starling. " 
 
 " So my partners hinted," said Starling, calmly. " I 
 think I felt so."
 
 294 The Story of Eden 
 
 " What was the matter with you when you met me 
 in the lounge ? That glass-house makes an admirable 
 sitting-out spot, by the way. You were with True, or 
 rather he was behind you, when you suddenly dashed 
 out from a grove of ferns and pranced back to the ball- 
 room. You looked so upset that really if it had been 
 any one but True, I should have imagined things." 
 
 A passing disturbance was discernible in Starling's 
 face at the present moment. She rummaged among 
 several indescribable small garments with her head 
 turned away, and when she spoke, she hesitated in 
 a most unusual fashion. As a rule, Starling did not 
 hesitate, soft and cooing though her voice was; nor 
 did she make confidences. 
 
 " There was nothing the matter only we had been 
 sitting out quite long enough, and You know those 
 two low chairs up in the corner ? Well, we were 
 there." 
 
 " It is dark," said Mrs. Drysdale, sympathetically. 
 
 " Yes, but I don't mind that, as a rule." The little 
 brown head came up with an impatient jerk that sug- 
 gested a " touch-me-if-you-dare " attitude towards man- 
 kind in general, be the light never so dim. " The 
 fact is," she spoke with a sudden rush of words, " I 
 could n't find his right arm, and after a while I began 
 to get nervous." 
 
 " It is an awkward thing to lose," said Mrs. Drysdale, 
 dryly. " But one's partner's right arm is the first thing 
 to become ' not seen, but dimly felt ' in a conservatory. 
 I have known it to be the left," she added musingly. 
 "Go on, Starling." 
 
 "So at last I said, 'True, I should like to know 
 where your other arm is ' was n't it mad of me? But 
 you know we have had several tiffs lately, and I have 
 got into a habit of saying what I mean straight out to 
 him. And he said, ' It 's along the back of your 
 chair ' "
 
 The Story of Eden 295 
 
 " He ought to have been ashamed of himself," Mrs. 
 Drysdale interpolated. " Only now I come to think of 
 it, True never has been that. Perhaps " this was a 
 flash of intuition, " he has never had cause to be." 
 
 " Well, I said, ' Please don't demoralise the chairs 
 that I sit on like that it 's so bad for them.' Yes, I 
 know it was nonsense, but I was getting nervous." 
 
 " Oh, True does n't count." 
 
 " No, he does n't count, but the light was very low, 
 and he was there somewhere and I did n't quite 
 know where. I said, ' Will you please put your arm 
 somewhere else,' and he put it somewhere else." 
 
 " Which was worse, of course." 
 
 " I did n't let it stop there," said Starling, in an 
 injured tone. " If it had been any other man I could 
 have got into a rage and flounced round, but you know 
 how it is with True, he begins so gently and courte- 
 ously that you 've nothing to take hold of, and before 
 you know where you are, you 're there, you know. 
 I' ve snubbed him ever so many times lately, until I 
 felt at last that I could n't be crushing any more it 
 is like breaking a butterfly." 
 
 " I don't see that it matters," said Mrs. Drysdale, 
 consolingly. " As it was only True." She looked at 
 Starling casually as she spoke, and made a mental 
 note. " She always laughed before when men tried to 
 make fools of themselves, she doesn't laugh now. 
 She is on the verge of being really uneasy and uncer- 
 tain of herself. With True of all men ! He must have 
 given some hint of the masculine side of him, which is 
 a slip for True, or is it the reality of the man, which we 
 all ignore, asserting itself after all ? I am interested 
 I shall look on." 
 
 But when she met him later in the day, at Mrs. 
 Johnnie's tennis, her new keen-sightedness was lulled 
 back into her former acceptance of him as he repre- 
 sented himself. True was playing the game with cat-
 
 296 The Story of Eden 
 
 like deftness, and his voice came across the courts with 
 its usual precision, chanting the score, "40. 15. 40. 
 30. vantage vantage all ! " he made a run and 
 lifted a ball over the net with deadly swiftness. The sun 
 shone on his brown head and sunburnt face, and on the 
 strong set of his shoulders under the loose pink shirt. 
 Mrs. Drysdale saw his eyes gleam and flash as they 
 followed the ball; he was just the ordinary young 
 soldier playing tennis adroitly, and armoured with all 
 the surface life which disguised the real True, if such a 
 thing existed. She felt baffled, and turned to Madge 
 Crofton rather helplessly. 
 
 " How well True is playing ! " she said. 
 
 "True does everything well," said Madge, inclu- 
 sively. " He is the best billiard player in his regiment, 
 and he beats them all at tennis or cycling. Look at 
 his pink shirt ! True is vain. He knows perfectly well 
 that that colour is exactly the shade to suit him. He 
 would n't be nearly so sweet in blue." 
 
 Mrs. Drysdale's eyes still followed the flying balls 
 and the active young figures. " Starling was telling me 
 that at the Sapper's dance he tried to put his arm 
 round her when they were sitting out ! " she said 
 laughing. 
 
 " Only tried ? " Madge asked, raising her eyebrows 
 with a flash of mischief in her eyes. " How good of 
 Starling ! It would n't have stopped at that with me, 
 in her place, I feel sure. Would it with you, 
 Clarice ? " 
 
 " Oh, I should have told him not to be a fool ! So 
 would you probably. Only you would have let him go 
 on being one all the while. Starling did n't apparently. 
 I can't think what has come to her unless she met 
 some one at Home. It can't be True." 
 
 " No, it does seem a little impossible. Still I sup- 
 pose we all have our other side." She turned her face 
 with a shadow on it and looked at the crowd of people
 
 The Story of Eden 297 
 
 laughing and chattering among the trees. " The other 
 side is difficult to realise in Wynberg and the sun- 
 shine," she said. " Look at Edith Hofman and Mr. 
 Forrester, for instance. We none of us know what the 
 trouble is there and yet there is a fault somewhere." 
 
 True came across the courts racket in hand, and 
 smiling broadly. He looked the impersonation of 
 sunshine. "Will you come and have tea?" he said. 
 " I won. I always want tea when I 've won." 
 
 " I 'm dying for something to drink," Madge said, 
 dropping her gravity of a minute since, and dimpling 
 into laughter. " Come along, True you are a dear 
 little thing, and you always offer me just what I want." 
 
 And they went away together to play with the fruit and 
 cake like children laughing lightly above the unwritten 
 tragedies of their lives, if tragedies there were, as the 
 African sunlight danced among the gloomy fir-trees. 
 Margery kept True near her as long as possible. She 
 was anxious not to think, to talk the merest non- 
 sense, and to forget the morning's news and strain. 
 She dreaded hearing Vibart's arrival discussed among 
 the people round her, and kept on chattering to True 
 or Beaumont Livingston all the afternoon. 
 
 " I can't be grave I dare n't. I won't think," she 
 said to herself. " For safety's sake I must be gayer 
 than usual to-day. Lanse will come and fetch me 
 presently ; I want him to find me laughing and talking. 
 If I have anything to say to V. C. or Major Yeats this 
 afternoon, they will make me grave they always touch 
 the deeper part of me. I shall stick to True and Beau 
 Livingston." 
 
 She found Beau in conversation with his host, 
 and joined them without ceremony. Johnnie Dodd 
 was speaking in puffs a note higher than usual, which 
 betrayed agitation. Also, regardless of Madge's ap- 
 proaching figure, he still sprinkled his remarks with 
 expletives, a thing he was learning to restrain before
 
 298 The Story of Eden 
 
 ladies. His subject, as Madge soon found, was Great 
 Britain in general, and her modes of government in 
 particular. There is generally a singular silence on 
 subjects with a political aspect in Anglo-African 
 society, because if your next neighbour is not a Bond- 
 man, he is probably a South African born, with Views 
 about the Home Authorities and their attitude toward 
 his country. The innate wickedness in Beau Living- 
 ston was never more discernible than when he drew on 
 Johnnie Dodd to speak his mind in the risk of a mixed 
 social gathering. 
 
 " You may be a great Nation," he was panting at 
 Beau, who was obviously enjoying himself very much ; 
 "but if you go on bungling as you have been doing 
 since '81, you'll lose Africa. We 're not going to be 
 governed by a set of old women who can't stand up for 
 themselves ! We '11 have a United South Africa we '11 
 separate ourselves from Britain we '11 " 
 
 " But, my dear fellow," said Beau, hugely delighted, 
 " what could we do but apologise after the Raid ? It 
 was out of all order. Still if it had succeeded " He 
 shrugged his shoulders. " The Johannesburg men 
 should have seen to that" 
 
 " The John'isburg men ! " spluttered Johnnie. 
 " What could they do ? They waited and waited till 
 the time should be ripe, and were ready to form up at 
 a minute's notice. I spoke to a man, last time I was 
 up there, who told me he moved his musket four times 
 one day saw the notice at the Club and took it to the 
 next hiding-place, as soon as the police tracked them. 
 They were willing enough to fight when the order came. 
 What more could they do? They sent their wives down 
 at two hours' notice, and held themselves ready. It was 
 their business to wait. They were rushed, as half the 
 Colony knows. If Jameson had n't been " 
 
 " Well, it was a deuced good thing for the Boers," 
 Beau interrupted aggravatingly. " They are burrowing
 
 The Story of Eden 299 
 
 like moles since, and throwing up earthworks in all 
 directions. The Raid was just the excuse they 
 wanted." 
 
 " Damn them ! " said Johnnie Dodd, piously. " Eng- 
 land will have to do something soon. The Transvaal 
 Government is unendurable. Those old fools at 
 Home want stirring up, and unless I 'm very far wrong, 
 they 're going to get it." 
 
 " Friend Rhodes has been trying to stir them up to 
 his railway," said Beau, with the graceful lightness in 
 touching solemn things which might have belonged to 
 the time of the Empire. Madge felt as if the delicate 
 hand which held his cigarette would have suited a gold- 
 headed cane or lace ruffles equally well. 
 
 " He has n't succeeded very well," she remarked, 
 joining the conversation. " What slow-coaches they 
 are at Westminster ! England is so dreadfully respect- 
 able that she almost looks upon progress of any kind 
 as a sin against propriety." 
 
 " Respectable ! " snorted Johnnie Dodd. " How 
 about their Society? They ask men out to dinner whom 
 I would n't have inside my doors, because they 've 
 made money on the Rand, and make a lot of them, 
 and accept their wives when the relations between 
 them have been notorious out here ! " 
 
 " But they can't know anything about these men as 
 you do, Mr. Johnnie," put in Madge, soothingly. " My 
 husband says that when they accept men in London 
 who have been blackballed at the Kimberley or Johan- 
 nesburg Clubs, it is simply because they are ignorant 
 about their somewhat shady pasts." 
 
 " Then they ought to know ! " retorted Mr. Johnnie, 
 manfully. " They can find out. Some one must intro- 
 duce these these outsiders into English society ; 
 where is the voucher for their right to be there? D' 
 you think I 'd let Mrs. Johnnie know the rinsings of the 
 Kimberley gangs or the John'isburg crowd, without
 
 300 The Story of Eden 
 
 knowing who they were, and proving them decent chaps, 
 at all events? I don't set up to be over nice, Mrs. 
 Crofton ; I 've made my money amongst men who 
 were n't fit to come into your drawing-room, very likely ; 
 but that 's all in the way of trade, and if I made it 
 amongst them, I did n't do it like them. But if I know 
 a gentleman when I see one, though used to associate 
 with men who were n't and never could be, I should 
 think your English aristocracy ought to be able to do 
 so a good deal better. Instead of which, they seem to 
 lick the boots of any one who 's got a fortune together, 
 goodness knows how ! " 
 
 " But, my dear fellow," said Beau, sweetly, " the Eng- 
 lish aristocracy, as you call them, don't care twopence 
 about good breeding or a decent past ! They have n't 
 got it themselves nowadays, and they are not so unjust 
 as to demand it elsewhere. What they want is to make, 
 money, and when they meet a man who has made it 
 they naturally conclude that he can show them the 
 trick also. Hence their amiability. A little shoving on 
 your part, Johnnie, a few introductions, you 've met 
 a dozen people who could give you those, a few din- 
 ners which would get rid of some of your superfluous 
 cash, and they would have extended the right hand of 
 fellowship to you also." 
 
 " Thanks, I don't want their fellowship on those 
 terms, any more than I 'd have my daughter presented 
 with some of the women who have been to the Draw- 
 ing-rooms. I told Starling I was n't going to have her 
 on a par with that set. Of course the English debu- 
 tantes are all right every one knows about them ; but 
 I Ve heard I don't know if it -s true that there have 
 been some John'isburg women presented who were n't 
 all right, and Starling would rank as one of them, and 
 not with the English girls. I know the Queen 's par- 
 ticular, but those who are responsible to her don't seem 
 to be so."
 
 The Story of Eden 301 
 
 " You are delightfully young, Johnnie ! " Beau said, 
 his blue eyes nearly lost in wrinkles of laughter. 
 " Madge, let us go and have some more to eat. We 
 shall never educate him up to the age ; but we can allow 
 him to feed us who are educated." 
 
 " I wonder if I am educated up to the age? " said 
 Madge, as they strolled off together. " I always thought 
 I was a little behind it." 
 
 "You were," said Beau, amiably. " But I think you 
 are a little before it now. It is the last fashion, I found, 
 both in Paris and London, for married women to be 
 secretly in love with their own husbands, an open 
 secret, of course, like all these things. You are in love 
 with your own husband, are you not? " 
 
 " Do you know I begin to be a little afraid that I 
 am ! " said Madge. " However, we can ask him when 
 he arrives. What a lot of cakes ! Mrs. Johnnie always 
 seems to get new ones for her afternoons. I can't think 
 how she manages it." 
 
 " I wish she would n't have so many. It scares me 
 off Friedenhof for a week after I see a spread like this. 
 I have the greatest objection to helping my friends to 
 eat up the remains of a feast at which I was an original 
 guest. They will live on those cream pastries for days, 
 you know, as pudding, and at five o'clock tea one will 
 recognise all the biscuits a little stale." 
 
 "One might do worse, even after the freshness is 
 off," said Madge, nibbling daintily at a slice of almond 
 paste and nougat. Looking past Beau, her eyes fell on 
 Lansing, and brightened. She did not know that he 
 had arrived, but he had promised to fetch her. He 
 was standing in the centre of the room, with his side 
 face to her; he was always perfectly upright, but 
 stooped a little from the neck, so that his chin nunted 
 forward. It was a characteristic attitude of his, and 
 accentuated the forcible expression of his strong, re- 
 strained face. He always gave strangers the impres-
 
 302 The Story of Eden 
 
 sion of a man who was going forward. Madge's eyes 
 dwelt on him with a little loving appreciation of his to 
 her superiority to the other men present. He was 
 talking to Teddy Barton, and though the Irishman was 
 somewhat taller, his easy figure and shallow, good-look- 
 ing face became purposeless beside Crofton's. While 
 she was still looking at him, as if by instinctive sym- 
 pathy, he turned, and their eyes met with a little flash 
 of recognition and understanding, a half humorous 
 greeting as of two who were very close together in mind 
 as well as heart. A warm glow of pleasure and satis- 
 faction thrilled Madge, to be followed as quickly by a 
 flash of pain. " How sweet it is to feel that we belong 
 to each other ! We are so near together, that our very 
 souls seem to take and give greeting without hindrance. 
 And presently we shall go home, and discuss all this, 
 and talk as friends as well as lovers. But if something 
 should go wrong ! If he should find out anything 
 and I should lose it all ! I dare not think what he 
 would do what would happen. Oh, I was not nearly so 
 frightened even when I married him, for I did not care 
 for him one half so much as I do now, or I could never 
 have run the risk of having had his trust and losing it ! " 
 With a remembrance that she meant Lansing to see her 
 gay and enjoying herself, she pulled her forces together, 
 and went on talking to Beau with feverish gaiety. 
 
 Crofton might have been surprised had he seen her 
 acting the part of wallflower, but as a fact he would 
 almost have preferred it to her light incessant chatter 
 to the men who hovered round her. He was inclined 
 to be jealous at times. " An excellent tendency, but a 
 bad fault, once it goes too far," Mrs. Drysdale said to 
 Madge. Miles Mowbray had, by Margery's own invita- 
 tion, made an arrangement to ride with her the next 
 morning, but a little resentful remark of her husband's 
 on the homeward way decided her not to mention it 
 then, rapidly calculating that Lanse's mood might have
 
 The Story of Eden 303 
 
 changed by the morning. She had seen very little of 
 Miles since his removal to Simon's Town, but he had 
 never been a great favourite with Crofton, who, how- 
 ever, started for Cape Town before the boy arrived. 
 He had business which would keep him there until 
 the afternoon, and Madge casually remarked at the last 
 minute that she might go for a ride, perhaps, if any 
 one turned up, by which she compounded also with 
 her own conscience. 
 
 "All right, only don't tire yourself. It is going 
 to be hot," Lanse returned in his customary tones. 
 Madge was relieved, but she did not order her pony 
 until Mowbray absolutely appeared, trusting that Fate 
 might throw something in the way. She had not 
 dreamed of Lanse's objecting ; she had always ridden 
 with this man or that while she had lived under her 
 brother's roof, and did not think of even mentioning 
 her intention, though she had no motive of conceal- 
 ment before his sudden small display of jealousy. But 
 she would have sacrificed any amount of rides rather 
 than put Lanse out, and if she had had time would have 
 written and excused herself to Mowbray. The Fates 
 were unpropitious, for he arrived before eleven, and 
 having no adequate excuse, Madge ordered the ponies 
 and they set out. 
 
 Mowbray was arrayed in spotless garments; from 
 his white breeches to his curly hair there was not a 
 speck of dust or dirt upon him, but his whole person 
 was pervaded with a sense of uneasiness and gloom. 
 The boy had a quaint white face, and blue eyes that 
 twinkled with good-humour and a spice of mischief as 
 a rule. But the light in them had been snuffed out, 
 and when they rested upon Margery they were full 
 of concern. At first she hardly noticed his unusual 
 gravity, but when they had ridden out some miles, and 
 in spite of a good gallop he was still depressed, she 
 turned in her saddle and looked at him more closely.
 
 304 The Story of Eden 
 
 They were riding along the hot white road to Tokai, . 
 a newly made road that had not yet turned red like its 
 fellows, out in the soft glare of the sunshine, with 
 the green mountain plantation before them. Mowbray 
 was looking straight ahead at Tokai, and not at her, at 
 the moment. 
 
 "Miles, what is the matter?" she said suddenly. 
 She had long since dropped into using his Christian 
 name, even before her marriage "legitimised the act," 
 as Beau would have said. 
 
 "There is nothing the matter ! " he returned rousing 
 himself. 
 
 " Yes, there is ; you have hardly spoken a word, and 
 I know there is something on your mind. Do tell 
 me ! " She wondered if it were a love-trouble, and 
 spoke kindly and coaxingly. The boy was so young 
 it could be only calf-love, she decided in her newly 
 attained wisdom of a married woman, but he should 
 not be ridiculed. 
 
 " I wonder if you would be angry " he began, and 
 hesitated and got honestly red. 
 
 " I ? No, of course not ! Why should I ? " 
 
 " It concerns you." 
 
 "Me!" 
 
 Yes " 
 
 " Then I think you had better tell me unless you 
 are sure it could only do harm and not good." 
 
 " I am not sure. It is only men are such brutes ! 
 
 but I wanted to warn you. I think you ought to 
 know that they talk, that you may be able to defend 
 yourself, and give them no chance." He was so gen- 
 uinely troubled, and so nicely in earnest, that it was 
 impossible to be offended. Nevertheless he gave her 
 the chance. " Of course you can say it is no business 
 of mine, and shut me up. But I knew you and Crof- 
 ton would be annoyed if it came to your ears in 
 
 in a worse way perhaps. And I should be $o
 
 The Story of Eden 305 
 
 awfully sorry," he added loyally. " Don't be offended, 
 please ! " 
 
 The young round face at his side seemed suddenly 
 to lengthen and harden. The youth went out of it, and 
 a frightened, reckless look came instead, like a woman 
 at bay. " What is it that you mean ? " Madge said 
 quietly, controlling herself. " Tell me, please. I am 
 not offended. But I must know what you mean." 
 
 " I mean that people talk our fellows especially. 
 I should like to choke the stories in their own throats ! " 
 he added fiercely, " Only that might do more harm 
 than good." 
 
 " Yes, please do not make a fuss. I should not like 
 that. They talk about me, I suppose? " 
 
 Yes " 
 
 " And any one else ? " 
 
 "Yes " 
 
 "In particular?" 
 
 " A man named Vibart, who was here before, and is 
 coming out again our new Colonel probably. I 
 never met him, we were always in different battalions, 
 and when I joined I went straight to India. You knew 
 him, I suppose ? " 
 
 She rallied her forces, gripped the reins between her 
 relaxing fingers, and settled herself firmly in her saddle. 
 She had not expected this, and she must meet it, and 
 find out how far the mischief had gone. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I knew Major Vibart," said she. " He was 
 very popular here. For that matter, I have no doubt 
 that he has been talked of with a number of women. 
 You know in a place like this every one gossips." 
 
 " Yes," he said doubtfully. 
 
 " But you have not heard it? " 
 
 " Only about you, as far as he is concerned. Oh, I 
 have heard plenty of stories of course, and I know his 
 reputation is rather shady. Great pity he is coming t<? 
 us, I think I know I wish he were n't," 
 20
 
 306 The Story of Eden 
 
 There was a silence, while the horses' hoofs beat 
 crisply on the good, hard road. A little bright-col- 
 oured bird flew out of a clump of sugar-bushes, and the 
 heads of the same handsome flowers strewed the path 
 before them where the Kaffir children had flung them 
 down after sucking the honey. Margery had ridden 
 that way with Vibart sometimes. 
 
 "Well, what do they say of me more particu- 
 larly?" she said almost sharply, when the pause be- 
 came intolerable. 
 
 " Oh, they talk ! I can't tell you it 's horrid 
 lies ! I only wanted to warn you so that you might 
 balk them of anything more to say. He is probably 
 coming out again, you know. That 's what made the 
 talk, at least revived it. I 'm awfully sorry it 
 should ever have happened I don't believe a word 
 of it, you know that of course I could n't ! Except 
 I know you do flirt ! " 
 
 A slight smile curved Madge's stiff lips in spite of 
 herself. "Do I? I don't mean to it 's only fun," 
 she said. " I daresay I gave the gossips plenty to say, 
 because I talked to Major Vibart, as to any man who 
 made himself pleasant to me. No doubt I was n't very 
 discreet, because it never occurred to me to be so. 
 That is all, Miles. But I want you to promise me 
 something." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " Don't make a fuss, or tell these men that it is a 
 lie, with a false idea of defending me. That it is a 
 lie is quite sufficient." (Again that tightened grasp of 
 the rein, which her horse felt and tossed his head im- 
 patiently, and that strained gaze at Tokai drawing ever 
 nearer to them.) " You would only make matters 
 worse by deigning to discuss them. I do not care 
 what such people say of me, but I agree with you that 
 it is just as well to give them nothing to use as a foun- 
 dation for any tale, however wildly they exaggerate. I
 
 The Story of Eden 307 
 
 shall be careful should I meet Major I mean Colonel 
 Vibart, that is all." 
 
 " You are an angel to take it like this ! Most girls 
 would have raged, and snapped my head off. But you 
 were always so reasonable, Madge. And you aren't 
 angry?" 
 
 " No, I realise that you meant it far too kindly to be 
 angry about it. But I don't think we need discuss it 
 again. Shall we have a gallop ? " 
 
 The cloud was gone from his face, she was glad to 
 see, as they rode forward more quickly. Only a slight 
 melancholy remained, possibly due to his recent dis- 
 turbance. It was not until they were walking slowly 
 homeward again for it was then too hot to go quickly 
 that another side of the question occurred to her 
 mind, if not as terrifying, almost as discomforting as the 
 first. 
 
 " Miles, was this gossip, the reason that you have 
 hardly been to see me since my engagement?" she 
 said. 
 
 He went a shade whiter. "Not entirely," he said 
 briefly. 
 
 " You used to run in two or three times a week. I 
 put it down to your being at Simon's Town at first, 
 when you did n't come " 
 
 " As if that would have stopped me ! " 
 
 "Then it wasn't that?" 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 She hesitated a minute, then stretched out her hand 
 to him gently. " What was it, Miles? " she said. 
 
 The boy caught his breath. " You know ! " he said 
 as his hand fastened eagerly on hers. " I always did, 
 Madge, from the very first ! " 
 
 " Oh, I am so sorry ! only you are so young it 
 won't last. I know that 's cold comfort, only I am 
 sure you will get over it. I hope so. I 'm not good, 
 enough to be any one's first love ! "
 
 308 The Story of Eden 
 
 "You're good enough for me," he said huskily. 
 "Did you never guess?" 
 
 "Not until just now it struck me. It was yout 
 being so worried over that gossip." 
 
 " I should like to have killed some of them ! " he 
 said hotly. " Some men don't deserve to live. They 
 ought to be shot at sight. They say Vibart 's like that. 
 Was he a great friend of yours? " 
 
 " You need n't be jealous of him," said Madge, de- 
 tecting the reason of his inquiry. She smiled rather 
 sadly, a tired, strained smile unlike her own. " I assure 
 you I shall not be likely to see much of Colonel Vibart, 
 even if he comes out again, nor do I desire to. I 
 knew him much as I knew True, or or Mr. For- 
 rester, or any one." (She marvelled at herself.) 
 " What a foolish boy you are ! " 
 
 " I can't help it. I know I 'm a fool where you are 
 concerned. Madge dear, don't flirt with any of the 
 fellows round here stick to your husband. He 's a 
 good sort. There are such a lot of tongues ready to 
 slander you, and I can't bear it. It 's only because you 
 are prettier and more popular than other women, and 
 these snakes are always writhing about trying to sting 
 but they are poisonous sometimes. You are so good 
 really, and so pure-minded that you don't think, how 
 should you? and you don't know what is said. It is 
 because I believe in you myself, heart and soul as I 
 do in my religion, and every fellow has got some sort 
 of a creed, deep down, that he does n't talk about it 
 is just that makes me warn you." 
 
 Perhaps one of the keenest whips with which a 
 woman can be scourged is the undeserved confidence 
 and faith of her friends. When she knows that she is 
 not the divinity that some human soul makes of her, 
 then perhaps she first begins to appreciate the position 
 she has in reality lost. Madge coloured faintly ; all 
 she s,aid was, " Don't make idols of human clay, Miles,
 
 The Story of Eden 309 
 
 They might fail you," and he answered, " Oh, you won't 
 fail me ! You must n't think, because I asked you not 
 to flirt, that I don't know how " 
 
 "I understand," she interrupted briefly. "Only 
 I fancied you were making me a goddess. I am only 
 one of the ordinary run of women." 
 
 The truth of her own words came home to her as 
 she spoke them. She had indeed been only one of the 
 ordinary run of women, with a little more opportunity 
 than most, and to a certain extent victimised by cir- 
 cumstances. That she might have risen superior to 
 such circumstances, and proved herself a worthier ideal 
 for Miles Mowbray and his like, she acknowledged. 
 She never parried the truth, or excused herself she 
 was indeed rather unmerciful in her self-condemnation, 
 now that the former vivid attraction had faded from 
 her mind so as to seem no more a possible temptation. 
 The remainder of the ride was a silent one ; Mowbray 
 shook hands with her at her own gate, and would not 
 stay to luncheon. The grip of his hand, and the ex- 
 pression in his young blue eyes haunted her miserably 
 for hours. " It is all right I am not a bit annoyed," 
 she said frankly. " If I had been I could easily have 
 prevented your speaking. Don't come here for the 
 present, that 's all. I love Lansing, you know. There 
 could never have been any question of my marrying 
 any one but him. Good-bye, Miles." 
 
 She went to her solitary luncheon, and tried to 
 think. Even the revelation of Mowbray's feeling for 
 her took a secondary place in her mind to his account 
 of the way her name was coupled with Vibart's. She 
 tried to think. There was real danger here, danger 
 that must be averted. She shrank and caught her 
 breath, realising that the story some version or hint 
 of it must have been bandied about all these months, 
 years, while she was feeling so confident that no word 
 of it had escaped. She wondered that a rumour had
 
 310 The Story of Eden 
 
 not reached her, that her circle of friends had never been 
 narrowed by it, or that no difference had been made in 
 her position socially. But she saw also that there was no 
 proof, nothing to go on. The story was just one of 
 many, arising from those rides and visits of Vibart's 
 which might have leaked out and been coarsely 
 handled by the men who professed to be her friends. 
 She had heard it done with reference to other women 
 so often that she might have expected it. She had not 
 given much ear to like tales herself, and it was prob- 
 able that others had disregarded them also. Rumour, 
 in this case discredited, had probably touched the 
 truth without the gossips themselves really suspecting 
 it. Yet it stung her all the same, not so much on 
 her own account, as that Lanse's wife should not have 
 been as speckless as Caesar's. She had at least thought 
 that she brought him a fair name from the world at 
 large, whatever her own knowledge of herself might be. 
 And supposing but a breath of such scandal should 
 reach Lanse ! . . . 
 
 Beaumont Livingston dropped in to tea, and she 
 roused herself to talk to him and be as usual. He 
 acted somewhat like a strong stimulant upon Madge's 
 capacities, and she felt the reward of her effort in newly- 
 strong nerves and active brain after he left. When she 
 retailed the little experiences of her day to Lanse, 
 the literal fact of her ride with Mowbray, and Living- 
 ston's call, she was surprised to find him still somewhat 
 restive, though his only remark was, "The inevitable 
 military element still about, I see ! I can't quite see 
 why you want that boy hanging round you. Of course 
 I don't want to interfere with your amusement, dear, 
 but I saw a good deal of Mowbray before our engage- 
 ment, and he never impressed me as being particularly 
 worthy of cultivation." 
 
 " I know you found him in the way in those days, 
 and resented his very existence. I don't think he has
 
 The Story of Eden 311 
 
 interfered with you much since, Lanse. And I sha'n't 
 see anything of him now, for he tells me he is very 
 busy at Simon's Town." 
 
 She spoke wearily, for her brain was tired with con- 
 triving and planning. He came to her at once re- 
 morsefully, and took her in his arms. " You rode too 
 far in the heat this morning, Sweetheart," he said 
 fondly, stroking her sunshot hair. " You 're tired. 
 Never mind my nonsense I 'm a cross-grained sort 
 of husband for you, am I not ? I did n't mean it 
 you shall have all the boys in Camp to play with, if you 
 like ! It 's only that I well, I suppose I don't like 
 to share you with any one else ! " 
 
 " Oh, Lanse, I would n't speak to another man as 
 long as I lived if I thought you were really vexed with 
 me, or there were any sense in it ! " Her eyes were half 
 laughing, half wet, as they looked up between the two 
 lines of lashes. " But indeed there is n't the least 
 cause for you to dislike poor Miles." 
 
 She sighed, even while he kissed her, thinking how 
 little cause he had in very truth in this case how 
 much in another where he knew it not !
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 " The Summer-time still comes though knights are dead, 
 
 With tears of maidens rivers run to sea ; 
 Love ruleth still though chivalry be fled 
 His kisses were the same to you and me. 
 All was the same from bridge to ruined mill 
 
 Across the stream they loved, and met to part ; 
 Sad Winters change to flower-time but still 
 They call it Eden where you broke my heart" 
 
 THE Duke's Tennis Tournament came off at the end ol 
 March, before the summer was quite over. It had been 
 very hot, and Margery had been ailing, partly from the 
 lassitude of the summer, and partly from the mental 
 strain she had undergone since she heard of the prob- 
 ability of Vibart's return. It seemed to her that Fate 
 closed in on her in a series of implacable statements : 
 first, the news of his appointment was confirmed ; then 
 she learned the boat he came by ; and after that that he 
 had rejoined his Regiment, but without seeing him, for 
 she did not go out for a week or two, but spent most of 
 her time reading or dreaming in the garden of the 
 Rosary, when she was not driving with Lanse. He was 
 anxious about her, and nursed her as tenderly as a 
 woman could have done, to her secret surprise. She 
 had always looked upon him as such an intensely mas- 
 culine character that this new capability came upon her 
 as a delightful revelation. " It almost tempts me to go 
 on being seedy," she said. " It is so lovely to be petted 
 and looked after by you." He laughed and hoped, 
 nevertheless, that she would pick up strength with the 
 colder weather. " If you don't, I shall get things to- 
 gether with a rush, and take you Home," he threatened,
 
 The Story of Eden 313 
 
 and wondered at the cordiality of his wife's, " I wish you 
 could." 
 
 Margery meant to go to the Tournament. It would 
 be a good opportunity for meeting Vibart and getting 
 the dreaded moment over. She knew that it must 
 come, and with characteristic common-sense determined 
 to arrange it, if possible, among a large concourse of 
 people, where there would be no least opportunity for 
 reminiscences or any but a conventional greeting. She 
 dreaded meeting him unexpectedly about Wynberg, or 
 seeing him when she was unprepared, and she could 
 trust her own nerve to carry it through if she had delib- 
 erately planned it. She knew that Lansing would not 
 agree with any cordiality, if she asked about accepting 
 the invitation to Camp j but with her motive for doing so 
 to urge her on, she did not ask, but took it for granted. 
 Lanse said nothing, either way, when she announced to 
 him casually that she was going to see the Tennis Tour- 
 nament ; but he did not offer to accompany her. 
 
 " I suppose he will fetch me, as he always does," 
 thought Madge, as she dressed herself on the day in 
 question. " Well, it is better so. I shall get it all over 
 first, before he comes, and then he can take me 
 home." 
 
 It was a beautiful day, a blue African day, with in- 
 tense lights and shadows and an atmosphere that smelt 
 of the sun. Down in Wynberg valley it was so hot that 
 the oak-trees and the firs seemed to be roasting, and the 
 red ground was hot to touch ; but it was a dry heat, and 
 on the higher ground of the Camp a little wind went in 
 and out among the tents and the Mess and the winding 
 ways of the garden True's garden, which, with the 
 little pigs, he had delivered over to Lowndes of the 
 Rutlandshire, when that Regiment replaced the Duke's 
 in Camp. But True's conscientious zeal was still visible 
 in the clean-cut garden paths, the full flower beds, and 
 the trimmed shrubs. It was a productive spot, and
 
 314 The Story of Eden 
 
 green things flourished with a little care. The Duke's 
 had got a big tent up for tea, not far from the tennis 
 courts, and the men's flannels and the women's summer 
 gowns moved to and fro across the garden ways and 
 dotted the whole scene with splashes of colour against 
 the green background. Margery found the Tournament 
 in full swing when she arrived ; Forrester was playing 
 with Polly Harbord against George Tennyson and Edith 
 Hofman, which he doubtless regarded as the irony of 
 Fate ; and the men's Doubles raged between Mowbray 
 and Silence Wright, Henderson and Scott Murray, who 
 was known as " Hard Lines " in Wynberg, from a criti- 
 cism passed on him by Teddy Barton when he became 
 Adjutant. " It is hard lines on the Duke's having 
 Murray as their Adjutant. Now the Rutlandshires are 
 so fortunate, Lowndes looks like a Seraph ! " Murray 
 was certainly not beautiful to look upon, and the two 
 descriptive titles stuck. 
 
 There were a confusing number of the Rutlandshires 
 present besides the Duke's. Margery went straight to a 
 group of people watching the game, amongst whom she 
 recognised True, without allowing herself to look to 
 left or right. She found herself in the midst of her 
 acquaintances, Major Yeats, True, Mrs. Drysdale, 
 Lowndes of the Rutlandshires, and Beau Livingston. 
 They were all laughingly backing Mowbray's energetic 
 service, and welcomed Madge in their various fashions. 
 
 "I have been looking out for you, Lady," True said 
 as he beamed upon her. "Will you come and have 
 some tea?" 
 
 " Not yet. I want to watch the game a little," she 
 said, her eyes wandering with dread and expectation 
 amongst the little groups of onlookers. No, he was not 
 there yet. Was it possible that he was not coming ? 
 She almost longed to see him and get it over, this waiting 
 was so terrible. 
 
 " Do look at Mr. Wright, Madge ! " said Clarice Drys-
 
 The Story of Eden 315 
 
 dale. " Don't a man's characteristics betray themselves 
 at Tennis ? Did you ever see anything so deadly as his 
 strokes?" 
 
 " He is playing very well," remarked Yeats. " You 
 will have to look out for your laurels, Truman, when he 
 is your adversary. Is your husband with you, Mrs. 
 Crofton?" 
 
 " No, I expect him to turn up presently. The last time 
 I took him out with me, he got me away half through the 
 afternoon. It is safer to let him appear at the end." 
 
 "Is he such a tyrant?" asked Lowndes. "It is too 
 soon after the honeymoon, Mrs. Crofton. You should 
 have him better in hand." 
 
 " Oh, he does n't use force ! " laughed Madge. " It is 
 moral influence. He would let me stay till midnight if 
 I wanted to, but he stands and looks so dreadfully and 
 meekly miserable that I feel bound to take him home 
 at once. Besides, I am always afraid that he will yawn ! 
 Lanse is not so mightily entertained with social gather- 
 ings as I am." 
 
 " And a yawning husband is a dreadful degradation," 
 Mrs. Drysdale agreed. " I remember going out with 
 Ossy once, when we were just back from a long journey 
 Up Country. Unfortunately the affair took place the 
 same day we reached home, and we had been travelling 
 for ten hours. I tried to reach him under the dinner- 
 table, but it was no use. He still presented the most 
 open countenance I ever saw to his next door neigh- 
 bour. I kicked and kicked, until the pain and grief on 
 my host's face suggested to me that I was drawing the 
 attention of the wrong man." 
 
 " It ought to be a lesson to you," said Livingston, 
 " not to go about attempting to improve irreclaimable 
 human nature knowing Ossy as well as you do, too. 
 Mrs. Crofton is much wiser. She realises that husbands 
 cannot be reformed, or answered for ; but they can be 
 left behind. Vibart, my dear fellow, how 's the score? "
 
 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Forty-love in this game, three to two. Mowbray 
 and Wright are winning. How do you do, Mrs. 
 Crofton?" 
 
 The pleasant, easy tones were so unchanged, the 
 handsome face was so unchanged, that it might have 
 been but yesterday they parted in the driving rain of an 
 August day. Margery had not seen him approaching ; 
 but as she shook hands with him and smiled, that 
 trained, social smile which some women can make as 
 softly brilliant over the terrible moments of their lives as 
 over a last new chiffon, she looked straight at him. 
 He was wearing a light grey suit of clothes that seemed 
 equally well-chosen and well-cut ; the voyage had tanned 
 him becomingly ; his air of smartness and animal comeli- 
 ness had never been more apparent. Margery looked, 
 and realised, and shuddered. 
 
 " How are you, Colonel Vibart ? " she said carelessly. 
 " It seems so funny to call you Colonel ! I hope I 
 sha'n't forget." 
 
 Her remark was as much to the group round her as 
 to him. Every one laughed. 
 
 " I thought how well we were both doing it," he re- 
 torted. " I have more to remember than you. You 
 have not only changed your title, but also your name." 
 
 " Did you get it up beforehand ? " she queried idly, 
 her eyes wandering away to Mowbray's active figure as 
 he flew after the balls. She wondered if he could see, 
 if he had noticed Vibart's approach. She remembered 
 what he had told her, and turned sick. All these men 
 round her had guessed, half in jest they had bandied 
 grisly truths about her from one to the other. Yet she 
 could hardly get it home to herself even now ; it seemed 
 impossible that this big fair man standing before her, 
 chatting easily to Mrs. Drysdale, had been. . . . 
 The old feeling of irresponsibility attacked her. It was 
 not credible that she could have done anything serious 
 in such sunshine, with such a blue sky overhead ! Yet
 
 The Story of Eden 317 
 
 she and Jack and there was Jack, but a few feet 
 distant ! had. . . . 
 
 " Suppose we go and look at the other courts ? " she 
 said to Major Yeats suddenly. " I want to see if Polly 
 is winning." 
 
 " She will have a hard task against Tennyson and 
 Miss Hofman,'' he returned, as they strolled off, side by 
 side, up through the beds where the autumn violets 
 were already beginning to show, and the summer roses 
 growing scarcer, to the higher courts, where Mrs. 
 Johnnie and Starling and Valentine Cayley were all 
 sitting on a rustic seat, indulging in criticism and desul- 
 tory conversation. They made room for Madge at 
 once, and she sat down, surprised to find that her knees 
 were trembling. The meeting had been a strain on her, 
 natural and uneventful as it had been. It had passed 
 off exactly as she intended, but she had now to prevent 
 either references or speech with Vibart alone. There 
 was no room for Yeats on the seat, and he stood and 
 looked down on her, his eye-glass stuck firmly in his 
 eye, more of a Du Maurier figure than ever, with his 
 hands behind his back. 
 
 " Have you been overdoing it lately, Mrs. Crofton ? " 
 he said. " You ought to beware of the heat." 
 
 " No, indeed, I have hardly been anywhere. This 
 afternoon is my first dissipation for weeks. Did you go 
 to the dolls' show, Starling ? " 
 
 " Yes, we made up a big party, and bought exten- 
 sively. I hear the receipts were beyond the Missions' 
 greatest hopes." 
 
 " Who was with you ? " 
 
 " Oh, Polly Harbord, and the Redmaynes, and True, 
 and a contingent from Simon's Town. True carried 
 home the dolls for us, and would kiss them all for 
 good-night. We were so afraid he would kiss the paint 
 off." 
 
 " He must have been hard up ! " laughed Madge,
 
 318 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I was sorry to miss the show. I have not been well 
 lately." 
 
 " Get your husband to take you Home," advised 
 Yeats, briefly. " How long have you been out? Two 
 years ? You ought to get a change now. People don't 
 feel it at first, but there comes a time when one wants 
 to get out of Africa." 
 
 His thoughtful, rugged face was turned from Madge 
 to the players ; but she wondered for a moment what he 
 meant if there were something more in his words than 
 the obvious meaning. She remembered that old far- 
 away discussion with him at the Beatrice dance, when 
 he had quoted Browning to her. She had re-read the 
 poem since, many times, and thought it might have been 
 a warning, were it not a chance coincidence. But had 
 it been? 
 
 " Where the apple reddens 
 
 Never pry 
 Lest we lose our Edens, 
 Eve and 1 1 " 
 
 Did he suspect something too ? Did the whole world 
 her world know ? She felt as if she were being hard- 
 pressed, hunted, enclosed in a net. It was a relief to 
 her to see True approaching, and to find that he had 
 come to renew his offer of tea. Starling had already 
 disappeared tent-wards with V. C., and Madge and True 
 followed them. 
 
 " It is a nuisance having no courts at Simon's Town," 
 he said. " That 's the worst of being under canvas ! 
 We 've got a Mess at last, though." 
 
 " No, have you? How did you manage it? " 
 
 " It 's a house. A man offered it to us, we were so 
 pathetically homeless. I think it was Pete, he always 
 looked hungry, and he confided to our Good Samaritan 
 landlord that he had n't dined in comfort for a month. 
 Mind the flap of the tent, Lady ! " 
 
 Margery stooped her head, and went in. It was so
 
 The Story of Eden 319 
 
 shady inside that after the glare of the sunlight she 
 could not see who was present. A long table ran down 
 the centre, loaded with teacups and urns and cakes, and 
 the Duke's dodged to and fro, acting alternately as 
 waiters and dispensers of tea and coffee. Margery 
 leaned against the table and blinked at the chattering, 
 moving figures, while True attended to her wants. 
 
 " Shall I get you some tea, Lady ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes, please," she returned. "And some cake 
 and don't forget the sugar. Two lumps ! " 
 
 " Sweets to the sweet ! " he smiled, as he dropped 
 them in. 
 
 " Don't be obvious," said Madge, calmly. " What is 
 that cake, True ? Is it polo ? " 
 
 " Made especially for you. I saw to it myself." 
 
 " You will say you made it next. Can you cook, by 
 the way? " 
 
 He nodded. "I can fry fish and broil chops. I 
 learned when we were out for the manoeuvres." 
 
 " Very well. My cook is going because he got tipsy 
 one night and dished up fruit stones instead of beans, 
 and Lanse said that if we were to be poisoned it might 
 as well be done by a competent person." Her laugh 
 broke through her next words, and made an accompani- 
 ment to them. " I thought Thomas was very com- 
 petent. I am sure the fruit stones were well calculated 
 to finish off anybody ! However, there was a great fuss, 
 and Lanse locked him up in the stables until he got sober. 
 Then he told him what he thought, and knocked him 
 down ; because he said it was no use knocking him down 
 while he was tipsy, he would never get up again. And 
 now Thomas is going, and I Ve asked Major Yeats and 
 Captain Ransom to dinner next week. Will you come 
 and cook ? " 
 
 " I will do anything in the world for you ! " said True, 
 softly, gazing into her eyes with rapt devotion. 
 
 " What a truly Trumanian speech ! " exclaimed Madge,
 
 320 The Story of Eden 
 
 between her laughter. "Captain Ransom, when you 
 come to dinner at the Rosary next week, True is going 
 to cook it ! " 
 
 The Brawler was pouring out tea for Mrs. Johnnie, 
 in a fashion peculiarly his own. He half filled the cup 
 with strong tea, and then dashed in the milk as if he 
 thought to weaken it by quantity and force. 
 
 " Oh, Lord ! " he said. " Mrs. Crofton, if that is the 
 case, I shall take another fellow's duty ! " 
 
 " Is it so bad as that? He says he can cook." 
 
 " So he can but you can't eat the stuff afterwards. 
 We had a dish once that he called Irish stew it came 
 up soup." 
 
 " But, by Jove ! it was a very nourishing soup," put 
 in Tennyson, commencing an onslaught on the sponge 
 cake. " I never met with anything so sustaining. I 
 wanted nothing more, and the Colonel he was only 
 Major then said " 
 
 Madge turned suddenly to True ; he was smiling con- 
 tentedly, listening to the conversation, and with that air 
 of awaiting her pleasure that always beset him with 
 women. 
 
 " I think, on the whole, you would make a better 
 waiter than cook," she said. " It always reassures me 
 so to know that you are near me at a meal. I feel 
 that every sense you have is concentrated on my plate, 
 and that it is no sooner empty than it will be full 
 again." 
 
 " Let me get you some more biscuits now," he said. 
 " You like sugar biscuits, I know. Drawler, just move 
 that plate. If the Bard eats any more sponge cake he 
 will miss his balls next set." 
 
 Tennyson made a snatch as Ransom attempted to 
 take the plate, whirled round backwards with his booty, 
 and came in collision with a heavy body. " I beg your 
 pardon, sir !" he said. For it was Vibart. 
 
 "Good Heavens, Tennyson ! what are you doing?"
 
 The Story of Eden 321 
 
 said the Colonel. Then his eyes went further down the 
 table. "Have you had tea, Mrs. Crofton?" he said. 
 " This seems to be rather a dangerous neighbourhood 
 I hope they have not been charging into you also with 
 plates of cake." 
 
 " No thanks, I have been offered food in a less for- 
 midable fashion. Captain Truman has attended to my 
 every want." 
 
 That was all. They met each other's eyes again for a 
 moment with apparent unconcern, and Madge turned 
 again to True. 
 
 " I 've finished," she said. " Take me away, please, I 
 feel fat ! And there are heaps of people waiting for our 
 places. Poor things, how hungry they look." 
 
 She nodded to Mrs. Johnnie as True lifted the can- 
 vas for her to pass out. 
 
 " Oh, Madge ! " said the latter, " I forgot to tell you 
 that I met your husband on the way here, and offered 
 him a lift. He looked so tired ! I think he was com- 
 ing back from Constantia, I suppose he spends a lot of 
 time there ? " 
 
 " He is over at the farm most mornings," said Madge, 
 pausing. " What did he say ? " 
 
 " He would n't accept my offer he said he was n't 
 coming to Camp, he was going to have a ride." 
 
 For a moment Margery's blue eyes looked big and 
 piteous with dismay. But the tent was dusky, and she 
 lowered her lids. 
 
 " Oh, I daresay he thought the Kaisir needed exer- 
 cise I did n't see him before I came out, but I expect 
 that is it. It 's our new horse, Mrs. Johnnie, Lanse 
 fusses over it like a mother. I tell him he gives more 
 time to the Kaisir now than to me ! " 
 
 She bent her head and followed True out of the tent 
 into the sunshine which had lost its gold. So he was not 
 coming to fetch her ! The little slight stung Madge far 
 more than downright anger would have done. She
 
 322 The Story of Eden 
 
 knew he did not like her going to Camp, she had 
 rather avoided seeing him before she started, on this 
 account, fearing that he might say something to deter 
 her, but she had taken it for granted that he would 
 come and fetch her. That his displeasure would manifest 
 itself in this way, had never occurred to her. And now 
 she must drive home alone. 
 
 " I don't care ! " she thought indignantly. " I won't 
 care ! Lanse is silly why should he go off and leave 
 me to myself like this? Well, I shall do my best to 
 enjoy myself. I did n't want to come I had to. He 
 need n't think I wanted to, goodness knows ! " Then 
 she pulled herself up, remembering that her motive in 
 coming had been one which she could never explain, 
 however excellent it was to her. 
 
 True led the way along the winding walks between 
 the flowery beds, and Madge followed him, chatting in 
 a desultory fashion, while he picked white violets for her, 
 and made them into a tiny bouquet in his own deft 
 fashion. 
 
 " I am almost sorry I am wearing a white gown ; they 
 will hardly show against it," she said. " Put plenty of 
 leaves, True, the green will throw them up. How are 
 the pigs ? " 
 
 " Very well too well for Mr. Lowndes' peace of 
 mind ! They escaped again the other night. They al- 
 ways get out on Sunday. I think they must want to go 
 to church. He told me he had to pursue them, curs- 
 ing!" 
 
 " How very wrong for the Seraph. I like the idea of 
 Mr. Lowndes as a swine-herd." 
 
 " I would take you to see them, but I have to collect 
 the players for the next set." He handed her the 
 violets, outlined in their green leaves, and then paused, 
 she wondered if there were a significance about it, after- 
 wards, and remarked quietly, " Here is the Colonel 1 " 
 
 But Madge had heard his heavy step on the gravel,
 
 The Story of Eden '323 
 
 i 
 
 some minutes before, and did not start. He had come 
 up between the flower beds, winding in and out of the 
 walks, as if hardly following them ; indeed Madge had 
 watched, with fascinated eyes, as he made an idle detour, 
 and almost sauntered away from them almost only 
 to return. The Tracker was stalking. 
 
 u Robbing the Rutlandshires, Mrs. Crofton ? " he 
 said, in his usual pleasant manner, as he reached them. 
 "The garden has come on finely, hasn't it? We miss 
 it, over at Simon's Town. Truman, they are giving the 
 defaulter's call for you, for not getting the players to- 
 gether. Don't hurry, my dear fellow, let them look after 
 themselves for a bit. They will appreciate you all the 
 more." 
 
 But True had turned away, though without haste, and 
 disappeared down the slope to the courts. He was 
 gone before Margery had collected herself to follow him. 
 She stood where she was, by the border, half in sun and 
 half in shadow, fastening the violets into her breast. 
 
 Vibart watched her. They were alone for the minute, 
 and he lowered his voice with a faculty she knew well. 
 "Have you quite forgotten?" he said. 
 
 She made a slight backward movement, involuntarily. 
 During their intimacy he had taught her to carry on a 
 double conversation with him, by means of dropping the 
 voice at the end of an audible commonplace, and add- 
 ing words of far greater import, in order that they might 
 be able to talk to each other when a third person was 
 present. Vibart was an adept in the art, which Madge 
 speedily caught, and they sometimes used it even when 
 at the moment alone, if there were a chance of their 
 being taken by surprise. Margery mechanically dropped 
 into it now, raising her voice to comment on his last re- 
 mark to True, before she lowered it to answer him direct. 
 
 " Do you think people ever really appreciate a de- 
 layed blessing? (I have not forgotten, but I am truly 
 sorry to remember ! ) "
 
 324 The Story of Eden 
 
 He continued with the same caution. " I did n't ex- 
 actly call Truman a blessing, even though delayed. 
 (Your marriage was a great surprise to me.) " 
 
 "He is Umpire, I suppose? (It may be a greater 
 surprise to you to hear that I love my husband !) " The 
 lowered voice was defiant now. 
 
 " Yes, I believe so (You might have written and 
 told me. You never answered my letters.) " 
 
 " He must have his hands full (I thought it better 
 not.)" 
 
 " I believe Truman likes it (Your affection is not a 
 very lasting thing, is it ?) " 
 
 The words were a reproach rather than a taunt, but 
 they roused Madge to desperation. She must speak 
 now and defend herself, if it were to be done effectually. 
 She almost felt as if she were defending Lanse she 
 was, in any case, defending what was dearest to her in 
 all the world, the safe-guarding of his love. She did not 
 care if she hurt, she did not mind if she were brutal or 
 hard. Her sensations were probably those of the his- 
 torical rat in the corner, who, turned to bay, becomes 
 the aggressor rather than the defendant. She aban- 
 doned the precaution of her trivial remarks about True, 
 but lowered her voice to one level as she spoke. 
 
 " I want you to understand, now and once for all, 
 that all feeling I ever had for you is dead. I love my 
 husband with my whole heart, and I never wish to cast 
 a thought beyond him. I can hardly realise, now, that I 
 ever professed any affection for you I am very sorry I 
 did, for it has utterly vanished. Will you please under- 
 stand, for the future, that we are the merest casual ac- 
 quaintances, and the less we see of each other the better." 
 
 There was no time to say any more she had hardly 
 time to get the cold, hurried sentences out as it was 
 for Captain Ransom and Beau Livingston joined them, 
 even as she finished. Madge's only anxiety was lest 
 Vibart should not have understood. She feared that, in
 
 The Story of Eden 325 
 
 her haste, she might have lost the weight she meant her 
 words to have. But surely he must have understood ! 
 He was far too much of a man of the world to approach 
 her again if he had, she knew. She did not care that 
 she had spoken with such terrible directness. If it an- 
 swered her purpose, she was only relieved. The inci- 
 dent was done with, closed, once and forever, and she 
 pushed it roughly out of her life. 
 
 Livingston and Vibart turned, by common consent, 
 and went off to the Mess, where two or three of the 
 Rutlandshires promptly plied them with liquor brandy, 
 and A. W. cigarettes, which they had but lately brought 
 from Egypt. As Beau blew the heavy fumes through 
 his fine nostrils, he sighed with satisfaction. 
 
 " It is a melancholy fact that tobacconists cannot 
 bring themselves to import the best cigarettes," he re- 
 marked. " A true Egyptian, my dear Jack, is beyond 
 all price it is made up of every vice under the sun, 
 and flavoured with tobacco ; whereas the imitations 
 offered me, even in Bond Street, were really made up of 
 tobacco and the flavour of vice was only irritating." 
 
 "What are these? Argyropulo, Weanings, aren't 
 they? I have been spoiling my palate with cigars on 
 board." 
 
 " It is a pity to spoil one's palate in any way. The 
 difficulty of retaining an appetite is bad enough," Beau 
 glanced at his companion as he spoke. Their eyes met, 
 and they laughed. " Have you seen the ' Owl ' this 
 week ? " the elder man went on. 
 
 " No ! Anything good ? " 
 
 "This " he began to tell a story; as he reached 
 the point, Lowndes came into the Mess with a party of 
 ladies whom he had brought to see the Mess-plate. 
 
 " and so my friend shot the tiger in the jungle ! " 
 said Beau, blandly. The woman nearest him turned 
 her head with covert interest, as if she suspected hair- 
 breadth escapes, and regretted the first part of the ad-
 
 326 The Story of Eden 
 
 venture. Vibart nearly laughed. " Come out onto the 
 stoep ; our cigars may not be welcome," he suggested, 
 politely, and they strolled off by themselves, increasing 
 their reputations for courtesy in the feminine eyes that 
 looked after them with appreciation. 
 
 " Did you notice that woman who wanted to hear the 
 rest of the Owlish story?" said Beau, quietly. " Hand- 
 some, isn't she?" 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " A Mrs. Jackson her husband has a civil appoint- 
 ment. They are newcomers." He blew a ring of 
 smoke and looked at Vibart. " Margery Crofton has 
 altered a good deal, has n't she ? " he said. 
 
 " She looks just as young." 
 
 " She has developed, though. She is five times as 
 attractive as she was two years ago." 
 
 " I hear her husband is a Johannesburg man." 
 
 " Well, no. Emphatically English as a fact. He 
 made his money there or in Rhodesia ; but the smell of 
 the making does not stick to him. I was rather sur- 
 prised to find Madge married she did it when my 
 back was turned, which is a bad habit by the way, but 
 I think it is all for the best." 
 
 " She was always a nice little girl," Vibart said quietly. 
 He was not spiteful. 
 
 " She has become very charming. When she has got 
 over the influence of the honeymoon, she may be dan- 
 gerously so. At present she is mentally in an attitude 
 of devotion before her husband. Some women are sub- 
 ject to it. Fortunately, however, the inborn mischief in 
 Madge will betray itself later on. Then we shall see." 
 
 If the well-mannered, well-bred gentleman known as 
 Beau Livingston had been possessed by Mephistopheles, 
 he could not have calculated the weaknesses of his Mar- 
 guerite more exactly. He had always known where 
 Madge could be reckoned upon to play with fire, and 
 the knowledge had caused him great diversion. He
 
 The Story of Eden 327 
 
 acknowledged her innocent enough in intention, and 
 full of good resolutions ; but it amused him to see sheer 
 vitality and high spirits betraying the earnestness of the 
 saint. 
 
 Vibart, with the sting of his late rebuff still upon him, 
 could hardly agree with Beau's prophecy ; but he would 
 have liked to have done so none the less. Madge's mar- 
 riage had been, at the first telling, a sore to his vanity, but 
 when he got more used to the thought he comforted him- 
 self with the philosophy that it was just what might have 
 been expected, and it need not alter their relations. In- 
 deed, he came to think that Crofton might be a useful 
 though unconscious ally, and took a pleasurable anticipa- 
 tion in the thought of meeting Madge again. He was 
 deterred from making an active move towards that end by 
 the fact that she had never answered his letters, and also 
 that her marriage rather removed her from his immediate 
 influence. But he looked forward to seeing her person- 
 ally, without any doubt as to the result. Her downright 
 words had been something of a shock, and, in spite of 
 his reluctance, he recognised the genuineness of her atti- 
 tude towards himself, and her determination to see no 
 more of him. He thought, rather savagely, that possibly 
 his own teaching was being revenged upon him now. 
 He had always impressed the brevity of human affec- 
 tions upon Madge, and she was giving him a practical 
 demonstration of his own creed. He was too success- 
 ful a man to accept his own defeat as final after the first 
 repulse ; but he was too prudent not to draw back at 
 present, and wait. 
 
 "She's chucked me in good earnest just now," he 
 said in his heart. " And my expectations of going on 
 where we left off are rather rudely dispelled. . . . She 's 
 prettier than ever ! . . . I wonder what the other fellow 
 is like ? Ten chances to one he 's an ugly brute, as a 
 contrast to Me. Women generally rush off to the other 
 extreme, if they 've been attracted by looks first . . . J
 
 328 The Story of Eden 
 
 wish I could get Madge all to myself on a few occasions 
 I could always get her to hear reason if we had a good 
 talk and no fear of interruption ! I wonder if I could 
 make her jealous again ? It 's no good trying Blanche as 
 a decoy. She got over that before, and did n't care a 
 hang about her before I left for England." 
 
 " Shall I introduce you to Mrs. Jackson?" Beau said 
 airily. 
 
 " Ah, yes ! I should like to know her ! " Vibart an- 
 swered promptly. " Thanks, for the offer ! " He had 
 a great respect for the Devil, as that gentleman had 
 before this occasion answered the requests he had 
 hardly formulated in his mind, and invariably rendered 
 him every assistance in his power. 
 
 Margery went home by herself, as she had predicted. 
 Mowbray walked by the side of the cart to the limits of 
 the Camp, after the immemorial custom of the moth and 
 the candle, and then Madge whipped up the pony and 
 the dog-cart swung out into the road, and she trotted 
 home under the fir-trees. Lanse had sent the cart up 
 for her, though he had not come himself; she was glad 
 he had kept to the outward courtesy at least, she thought 
 grimly, with her lips set and her blue eyes fixed on the 
 lovely Eden-like prospect of green hill and valley rising 
 and falling round her. She was thankful at heart for one 
 thing, in spite of the secret vexation of the afternoon, 
 that the meeting with Vibart was over, and that she had 
 come to some sort of understanding with him. It was 
 an infinite relief, and she could even afford to forgive 
 Lanse. 
 
 He was not in when she came home, but she heard 
 him come up to his dressing-room while she was chang- 
 ing her own gown, and they met at the dinner-table. 
 Madge was coolly indifferent, and Lanse was polite. He 
 inquired who had won the match, so far, for it was to 
 last over two days, and said what a beautiful afternoon 
 it had been. Then he relapsed into silence. At first
 
 The Story of Eden 329 
 
 Madge wanted to laugh ; then she felt injured then, 
 with sudden dismay, she realised that this might develop 
 to a first quarrel. She looked at the strong, concen- 
 trated face opposite her, the set mouth, and the eyes 
 which quietly ignored her, and she saw that the qualities 
 which had made her husband a successful man were just 
 now combining to resist her weaker will. When the 
 coffee was brought to them on the stoep, she rose sud- 
 denly and going up to him laid her hand on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Lanse, why did n't you come and fetch me this 
 afternoon ? " she said. 
 
 " I thought you probably had a sufficient escort." 
 
 " I did n't want any one but you." 
 
 " Thanks, I don't care to enter into competition with 
 your other friends." 
 
 He had said the same thing once before they were 
 engaged, she remembered half impatiently. " I think 
 it was very unkind of you ! " she said suddenly. 
 
 " Really ? It would hardly have occurred to me to 
 use so strong a word. I only went my own way as 
 you had gone yours." 
 
 She looked across the soft warm night for an instant ; 
 it was unusually windless and relaxing, and the crickets 
 were singing. . . . Driven by a relentless memory of 
 whose force he could not dream, she turned from the 
 eternal ghost of her former self brought up by the famil- 
 iarity of the night, and sinking on her knees laid her 
 head against his shoulder. 
 
 " Lanse dearest, if you don't like it, I will never go to 
 Camp again ! " she said almost passionately. 
 
 He was totally unprepared for her attitude or words, 
 and for a moment he hesitated. Then the soft head on 
 his shoulder found its way to his breast, and his arms 
 closed round her as if without his will. 
 
 M Do you think me unreasonable ? " he said after * 
 minute.
 
 The Story of Eden 
 
 " No only I did n't know you would really mind, 
 or of course I would n't have done it. " 
 
 " I did mind. It cut me awfully to have you go off 
 like that, as if you were totally indifferent and independent 
 of me. If you had asked me to come too, I would have 
 taken you with pleasure." 
 
 " Oh, Lanse, I took it for granted that you would fetch 
 me as usual ! " she stammered, remembering that she had 
 not wished him to come until later when she had got 
 it over. 
 
 " I don't like your knocking about alone amongst all 
 those men," he said apologetically. 
 
 " Mrs. Johnnie was there, and ever so many other 
 women. Never mind, I know now I won't do it 
 again." She thought with relief that she had accom- 
 plished her real aim, and should have no second cause. 
 For a second they neither of them spoke. His hand 
 was playing restlessly with her hair, as she leaned on his 
 breast, feeling thankful in her heart that the difficulty 
 was over. 
 
 "Madge," he said abruptly, "why did you go alone, 
 and not ask me to come with you ? " 
 
 Her heart stood still ; she was afraid he would feel it 
 throb the next moment, and drew herself almost imper- 
 ceptibly a shade further off. " My dear boy, I never 
 meant to ! " she said with the fluency of her terror. " I 
 thought, of course, you did n't want to come, as you 
 always get tired and restless when you stay through 
 these affairs I expected you to fetch me as usual." 
 
 " I suppose you think me a suspicious brute, even for 
 the idea," he acknowledged. " But I have been won- 
 dering all the afternoon if you could have a reason. 
 Don't think I 'm blaming you but I daresay you get 
 more fun when you have n't a husband hanging about in 
 the background." 
 
 Mowbray's words, " And of course you do flirt ! " 
 recurred to her mind. She felt as if Lanse's reluctant
 
 The Story of Eden 331 
 
 suspicions reopened the gate of the past that she had 
 thought so firmly closed. 
 
 " I think you might trust me better," was all she said 
 gently. " I don't think I wait till your back is turned, 
 and then begin a flirtation, Lanse ! " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, dearest, I know it sounded as 
 if I were insulting you." He was honestly remorseful, 
 and his caresses became more demonstrative. It cost 
 Madge a pang to realise that if she had been another 
 woman she might have been justly hurt, and kept up her 
 dignity to punish him ; but her sense of justice and 
 honesty really prevented her resenting his words as she 
 half wanted to do. 
 
 " Lanse, do you know that we came to the verge of a 
 quarrel ? " she said rather gravely after a minute. 
 
 " I know. I was awfully mad with you, Madge ! " 
 
 " Oh, don't let us risk it again ! " she cried in sudden 
 fear. " Whatever happens, let us try to avoid that. We 
 should drift apart. You would wrap yourself up in your 
 reserve, and, however sorry I grew, after a time I shouldn't 
 be able to make you understand. And I 'm hot tem- 
 pered too, and spoilt I daresay. Lanse, if you are vexed 
 with me, tell me so straight out, and why. I may be 
 angry and argue and defend myself, but it will be better 
 we sha'n't go on nursing our bitterness anyhow." 
 
 He was a little ashamed of himself, and inclined to 
 spoil her now. " I won't have you maligning yourself," 
 he said. " You are the best tempered little soul under 
 the sun ! I am a sullen brute, I know, and vindictive. 
 Madge, we won't drift apart. We '11 remember this 
 threatening of a row, and our reconciliation. Let's 
 go somewhere to-morrow all by ourselves, and have a 
 kind of honeymoon again, just for the day. The social 
 life here has come in between us a little. Have you 
 anything on?" 
 
 " Nothing I could n't put off I would put it off any- 
 how." It was the second day of the Tournament, but
 
 332 The Story of Eden 
 
 she did not even refer to that. " Let 's go for a ride, 
 Lanse, all by ourselves." 
 
 " Very well, only we must n't overdo it. You have n't 
 been strong lately." 
 
 " Where shall we go ? Out to Simon's Town, or Tokai, 
 or where ? " 
 
 "No, they're all too public and crowded. I'll tell 
 you what I '11 take you over to Hout's Bay. It 's 
 about the only place we never went to while we were 
 engaged. I was there one day last week, and I thought 
 what a pretty little place it was. Besides it 's as lonely 
 as the Karroo now." 
 
 Margery put his arms away from her, and got up as if 
 tired with kneeling. Her eyes went away over the soft 
 starlit night where the crickets sang. She said nothing. 
 
 " Would n't you like it, Madge?" 
 
 "Oh, yes I think it would be lovely ! I was only 
 thinking it was rather a long way 1 have n't ridden 
 much lately." 
 
 " Oh, well, we won't ride I '11 drive you over. That 
 would be better, perhaps, in this heat." 
 
 " But I thought you wanted to ride " 
 
 " I only want to be with you, away from every one 
 else. I don't care a hang how I get there ! " 
 
 " But, Lanse, there are excursions every day, and heaps 
 of tourists there, are n't there ? " 
 
 " Not so late in the season. There may be a few at 
 the Hotel, but we can get away from them on the 
 beach. We '11 go down in the morning, and come 
 home to supper. You don't know Hout's Bay well, do 
 you?" 
 
 " Not very well, " she said hopelessly. The saving 
 clause was his making a day of it ; if he had proposed 
 staying the night, she felt that at all risks she must have 
 refused. The mere contemplation drove her mad. It 
 was the one spot in the neighbourhood which she had 
 always avoided, and so successfully that for nearly two
 
 The Story of Eden 333 
 
 years she had never been as far as the Nek even. Be- 
 fore Vibart left, while she was still meeting him secretly, 
 they had several times ridden out that way together, but 
 never as far as the Bay again. All her memories of the 
 road were, however, connected with him, and she made 
 up her mind to the pain and humiliation of the excur- 
 sion beforehand. Supposing that Eve had never tempted 
 Adam to share the forbidden fruit, but had kept her 
 knowledge and her sin to herself, would not her punish- 
 ment have been as great or greater, though she still dwelt 
 in Eden, and only her shamed heart knew that God had 
 placed His Angel at the gates of her lost innocence ! 
 The Serpent would never have told, he was not the 
 betrayer of the secret, Adam would never have known, 
 
 God might have waited for her confession with His 
 terrible patience ; but the condemnation would have 
 been just as completely carried out, and Paradise lost 
 to her, though she was actually within it. 
 
 Margery felt a dim surprise that the various features 
 of the road were so familiar to her; they seemed to 
 have been so impressed on her brain that it might have 
 been only last week she took this same journey in the 
 hired cart, with the inscrutable silent figure of Caroline 
 beside her. She wondered what became of that woman 
 
 the one witness whom she had to fear, for the Hotel 
 people knew nothing of the connection between her 
 and Vibart. They had stayed there the same night ; but 
 as strangers to each other on the face of things. She 
 looked round her dreamily as they drove through the 
 sun and shadow of the firs past the red and golden 
 fields of Constantia up through the whispering silver- 
 trees over the Nek, leaving Wynberg behind them in 
 the cup of the hills, and descending into the wilder and 
 more African country towards the Bay. It was all of a 
 dreadful sameness with the past, though when they 
 drew up in the sand before the Hotel the broad sunlight 
 blazed on mountain-side and bare big house, and
 
 334 The Story of Eden 
 
 drew shadows of the oak-trees in black and gold, instead 
 of black and silver, across the dusty ground. Crofton 
 lifted her down out of the cart, and Madge walked 
 slowly into the Hotel to wait for him ; she thought for 
 a minute that one of the servants looked at her curiously, 
 but she kept her face studiously under control. 
 
 There were a party of excursionists to lunch in the 
 large room where she had dined with Caroline, one of 
 the big Cape Town firms had brought down their em- 
 ployees for the day. Madge and Crofton amused them- 
 selves with watching and remarking on them, while they 
 ate their luncheon. The drive had given him an ap- 
 petite; but Madge struggled to swallow her food in vain. 
 At any moment it seemed to her she would start to find 
 the broad midday, the tourists, her husband himself, only 
 a dream ; it would be night, with a single chandelier 
 burning at one end of the room, herself seated at the 
 little table in the window with that strange woman op- 
 posite her, and on the further side of the room another 
 visitor who hardly exchanged a glance with her, and yet 
 she knew him to be a big handsome man in riding dress, 
 who was eating his dinner as unconcernedly as though 
 there were no electric chord of mutual understanding 
 between them. . . . 
 
 " Let 's get out of this, and go down to the sea, dar- 
 ling," Lanse said. Margery pushed her plate away, and 
 followed him with relief. 
 
 At least this part of the excursion was strange to her. 
 The path was rugged and steep, and they walked slowly 
 in the midday heat. It struggled upwards, along the 
 face of the mountain -side, skirting the Bay, into which 
 they looked down as at a picture. White sand and olive- 
 green trees, a few houses built absolutely into the sand, 
 a group of fisher cottages on the further side of the Bay, 
 a ring of blue sea, and white surf rolling in round the 
 smooth, warm-coloured rocks. They skirted a head- 
 land, and came out above the further bay, past the wild
 
 The Story of Eden 335 
 
 scrub and undergrowth where some Kaffir children were 
 calling to each other, their voices breaking clearly into 
 the golden quiet of the afternoon. Then the path 
 dipped half-way down the cliff, and Madge and Lanse 
 took hands like two children themselves, and sauntered 
 on together until a perfect solitude contented them, and 
 they sat down on the grass beyond the path, it was 
 little more than a track, in the shadow of the moun- 
 tain-side, and overlooking the sunny seas. 
 
 " How perfect, and how lonely !" she said clasping 
 her two hands round her knees. He lay beside her 
 with his head against her arm, and looked out across 
 the world also. 
 
 " Just you and me, and no one else," he said, putting 
 her thought into words. 
 
 " If we could only stay so ! " 
 
 " We can't ; but we 've had it, and we shall always 
 know it 's there, waiting for us if we want it, now. This 
 can't run away." 
 
 " Lanse, does n't it make you feel little ? This has al- 
 ways been here, it always will be here, never mind 
 who comes and looks at it. If we were the first inhab- 
 itants, savages, or the Dutch, or ourselves, or future gen- 
 erations of any Nation, it would be just as lovely for 
 them ! " 
 
 " I wonder what will be the future of South Africa ! 
 It 's a big country, Madge, and it 's got big resources. 
 It will come nearer England every year with these rec- 
 ord passages. There may come a day, though not in 
 our time, when people will run over to the Cape for a 
 holiday, instead of to the Continent. Then Hout's Bay 
 will be like Boulogne or Dieppe ! " He laughed at his 
 own fancy, contrasted with the lovely loneliness of the 
 Bay far down beneath his feet. 
 
 " Fancy a parade down there ! " said Madge. " And 
 a bandstand ! The sea anemones would curl up and 
 die with disgust, and those lovely coloured seaweeds
 
 336 The Story of Eden 
 
 would all disappear, and the maidenhair growing over 
 the little streams among the rocks (Starling and I came 
 down here once and found such treasures on the beach !) 
 would be used for penny button-holes ! Ugh ! how 
 horrid ! " 
 
 " I wonder if they would make the button-holes 
 of prickly pear or sugar-bushes ! " laughed Lanse. 
 " Things grow rather too large in Africa to adapt them- 
 selves to pocket luxuries ! " 
 
 " I am more interested in the future of your wine 
 farm, than in Africa, after all," said Madge. " I have 
 a commercial mind. Don't let 's go back to the Hotel 
 for tea, Lanse. I am not a bit hungry out here in the 
 blue and gold ! " 
 
 "You will be later, what with mountain and sea 
 air. We can have it before we start homewards, about 
 six. The sun will be going down then." 
 
 " It will be a dark drive," remarked Madge, content- 
 edly. She was very happy, and she had learned to hoard 
 her happiness from moment to moment, so often had it 
 been threatened of late. They sat there in the ripening 
 afternoon, without speaking ; but she was conscious that 
 he had moved nearer her to touch her, and the human 
 contact gave the one note of comfort wanted in the vast 
 beauty of the solitary place. The old influence of the 
 great land was upon her ; she felt Africa again, as she 
 had done on that former fateful night. Strange that the 
 soul of the country always seemed more demonstrative 
 and apparent here, in this little insignificant corner of 
 the Peninsula. It was but a crack in the Continent, a 
 tiny Bay in a tag of land jutting out from the great bulk 
 itself; yet it seemed to Madge more real and impressive 
 than anything she knew save the blank spaces of the 
 Karroo. 
 
 They sat and watched the sun get lower, talking in a 
 desultory fashion now and then. As the liquid glory 
 touched, the cliff to their left, they grew more silent \
 
 The Story of Eden 337 
 
 then it reached the water and rippled towards them 
 along a wide path of blue sea, and then Lanse raised 
 himself from his recumbent position to his knees. 
 
 "Come, dear, we must be going," he said. He was 
 still kneeling before her, and in the sacrament of the de- 
 scending light he took her face in his hands and kissed 
 her. " I love you ! " he said, as if he had found a new 
 beauty in the words, and was awed by the wonder of his 
 own feeling. Madge did not answer. She kissed him 
 across the grief of her past and its secret. That shadow 
 lay between them for all their lives, she knew it in the 
 moment, and wondered with pain if it would reach 
 after her into another existence. Are all deeds so irrad- 
 icable, so implacable in their consequences ? she thought. 
 Can we never lose touch with our past selves? Lanse 
 caught the look on her face and said to himself, 
 " She is a woman. She was a girl when I married her. 
 I have felt her growing older for some time ; but I did 
 not realise that she was only developing, as marriage de- 
 velops all women. Her face is altering a little there 
 is more in it." There was, but it was a mental expe- 
 rience, and no mere physical one, that had wrought the 
 change. He could teach her body nothing that it did 
 not know ; but her mind and soul were responsive to 
 his touch. He held the key of them. Could he but 
 have appreciated it, but then he must have been more 
 than a man, it was a greater gain than the loss he did 
 not know he had sustained. 
 
 They went back along the mountain track, holding each 
 other's hands again like the children. The light was 
 getting low as they rounded the cliff. Madge uttered a 
 little soft exclamation, as reverent as though she stood 
 before a great work of art in a cathedral. For if she 
 looked to the right, it was like Switzerland, the white 
 sand that had drifted far up the hills gleaming like snqw 
 under the pinky flush, the Little Lion couchant, as a 
 sentinel, and the long line of rocky heights, which ended,
 
 338 The Story of Eden 
 
 in Table Mountain guarding the Bay ; but if she looked 
 to the left, beyond Hout's Bay into the further bay above 
 which they had been sitting, it was surely Cornwall, for 
 nowhere else does one see that vivid, broken line of 
 coast, with the warm-coloured cliffs and the torn white 
 spray dashed up so high over the great rocks that it al- 
 most seemed like a cloud against the intense green of 
 the vegetation ; and yet again, if she looked right out 
 beyond the land-locked Bay, behold it was Italy, as 
 deeply, royally blue as Naples, with the speckless sky 
 that hangs over Venice. And all this in one corner of 
 our despised, beautiful Africa, which is said to be nothing 
 but a sunburnt rock ! Something in the disdainful line 
 of the granite mountains scorns the calumny. 
 
 It was a dark drive home, as Madge had predicted ; 
 but the lights came out under the firs of Constantia, and 
 she sat close to Lanse, too full of the moment's peace 
 and rest from her usual fear to want to talk. She had 
 closed her eyes and ears to memory in the short time 
 of their return to the Hotel, which would have seemed 
 like a repetition of her former visit. To her own sur- 
 prise, she was almost sorry that the day was over. She 
 had looked forward to it as to a pain that must be borne, 
 but the experience of the afternoon had no forerunner 
 to darken it, and she stored it up as a pure bright space 
 in her life. She could feel that Lanse was happy too, 
 by some occult sympathy. He had no doubts of her, for 
 this hour at least, and his left hand closed on hers 
 under the rug, while he held the reins with his right. If 
 it could have been always like this ! she thought. If 
 only no dread of dead passions had come to shake her 
 security ! How little women, who had no such cause 
 for fear, realised their own great blessing ! 
 
 Lanse jumped down at his own gates, and lifted her 
 out tenderly. There was a little added touch of pos- 
 session about him, to which she felt warmly responsive. 
 It was almost as if he brought her home for the first time.
 
 The Story of Eden 339 
 
 " We have drifted apart a little," she thought with a 
 panic of recognition. " It is the secret between us, 
 which he feels and cannot explain. Oh, what a horri- 
 ble punishment for me if it parted us, though I never 
 betrayed it ! Pray God I won't let it though. Last 
 night's threatened quarrel brought about a better under- 
 standing." " Letters ! " she said aloud brightly, taking 
 up a pile from the hall table. " Quite a lot ! Two for 
 you from Johannesburg, Lanse, one for me from Starling 
 (that was left by hand), one actually from Anthony ! " 
 She broke the last envelope, and read it, standing there. 
 Then she turned back and re-read it. Then she gave 
 a little laugh that was half a gasp, and laid her hand on 
 Lanse's arm to draw his attention, for he was deep in 
 his own correspondence. 
 
 " Lanse, prepare for a shock ! " she said. " What do 
 you think has happened ? Anthony is going to marry 
 Blanche Cromo Dame ! " 
 
 They stared at each other blankly for a moment, and 
 then burst into simultaneous mirth. 
 
 " Well, I 'm damned ! " remarked Lanse, feelingly. " I 
 beg your pardon, Madge, but I am too surprised to 
 choose my words. Let me look at the letter yes, by 
 Jove ! no doubt about it. Well ! . . . " 
 
 " Blanche is a clever woman," remarked Margery, 
 with a half humorous tightening of her lips. " Well, I 
 hope they will be happy I really do ! I can hardly 
 grasp the idea, though. But I say, Lanse ! " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I really don't know which I am the most sorry for ! 
 I think, however, that it 's Blanche."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 * Fit sire was he of a selfish race, 
 
 Who first to temptation yielded, 
 Then to mend his case tried to heap disgract 
 
 On the woman he should have shielded. 
 Say ! comrade mine, the forbidden fruit 
 
 We 'd have plucked, that I well believe, 
 But I trust we 'd rather have suffered mute 
 
 Than have laid the blame upon Eve," 
 
 THE Professor could not be said to be a comfortable 
 object in his position of fiance\ There was something 
 furtive and uneasy about him on the few occasions 
 when he appeared in the train of his prospective wife, 
 and his smile on receiving congratulations was more sug- 
 gestive of some inward spasm than irrepressible joy. 
 Margery swallowed her amazement, and expressed her 
 hope that they would be happy with real cordiality. 
 She had a cultivated liking for Blanche, and foresaw that 
 the Hand-painted Lady would be a satisfactory connec- 
 tion, being far too wise a woman to encourage family 
 quarrels or recriminations. The only satire in which 
 Margery indulged at her brother's expense was to remark 
 to him dryly that she felt glad she had proved so satis- 
 factory a housekeeper that he found his household 
 unbearable after her departure ! To which the Professor 
 retorted that his wife would be in a slightly different 
 position to that which she had held. 
 
 " Oh yes ! " said Margery, thoughtfully. " I hope 
 Blanche will find the difference profitable ! " 
 
 Mrs. Cromo Dame took four months to arrange her 
 affairs and provide her trousseau, and married the Pro- 
 fessor at the end of July. The intervening time passed
 
 The Story of Eden 341 
 
 smoothly for Margery. No new complications arose to 
 threaten her Paradise, and the exercise of a little pru- 
 dence held the balance between her social life and Lan- 
 sing. It was improbable that such factors in his wife's 
 existence as Wynberg Camp and Beaumont Livingston 
 would ever recommend themselves to him ; but without 
 entirely discarding her amusements, Margery contrived 
 to keep what she valued far more, his companionship 
 and confidence. She was inclined to lift up her head 
 again, and to whisper to herself that the Gods had 
 forgotten their vengeance, and she might dwell in 
 security. 
 
 The chief disturbance, as also the chief interest just 
 then, lay in the political situation. Margery heard it 
 discussed on all sides, among those whose views coin- 
 cided, and heard also the private opinions of men who 
 could weigh the Imperial Government and the Transvaal 
 Government, and spoke strongly. There was a loosen- 
 ing of the cords of the Empire in those days, and the 
 Colonists shut their lips and awaited Great Britain's 
 decision before they would commit themselves. The 
 undercurrent of excitement touched even the social life ; 
 Margery felt it, and felt the indecision of those whose 
 interest lay in Africa, while their sentiments were as a 
 link with the Mother Country which might snap be- 
 neath the strain. Cape Colony was loyal in the main, 
 except in the ultra Dutch districts ; but the very practi- 
 cal qualities which make the English the best builders 
 of an empire, prevent their sacrificing sense to senti- 
 mentalism. " We have colonised for England, we 
 have established ourselves here, and increased her pros- 
 perity, what is she going to do for us now ? Will she 
 assert herself, or will she lose her prestige in South 
 Africa, and leave us stranded ? Better a United South 
 Africa, fighting for itself, than an incapable Government," 
 said the Colony. The most British portion of the popu- 
 lation chafed under the delay of that terrible period.,
 
 342 The Story of Eden 
 
 while two Governments played at Conferences, and the 
 whole Empire stood looking on gravely, and Europe 
 screamed itself hoarse without understanding or judg- 
 ment. At times the larger question was broken into by 
 side issues, and local interests, as on the morning when 
 all the suburbs hummed with the news of Sauer's stop- 
 page of the trains, and the probable arrival of the Pro- 
 gressives too late to vote at Vryburg. The papers 
 flamed over it, and party feeling ran higher than ever 
 against the stolid Bond party. The failure of the com- 
 mission brought a lull, and the social round went on as 
 usual again, and the regiments chafed, and rumours of 
 troops being sent to the Border were rife. But July 
 came in with its cold and wet, and things were still un- 
 decided on the day when Anthony Cunningham was 
 married. 
 
 A winter wedding is less attractive than a summer 
 one. There was a chilly feeling in the rooms at the 
 Rosary, where Madge and Lanse had undertaken the 
 wedding breakfast, and the guests seemed to find a 
 greater attraction in the cheerful fires than in the gar- 
 den, though the sun shone fitfully at intervals. 
 
 " Not such a wedding-day as mine ! " thought Madge, 
 as she moved to and fro chattering to her friends. " But, 
 oh, how thankful I am that it did not have to be at Vine 
 Lodge ! It is bad enough having Jack Vibart here, 
 it is the first time he has been under this roof. I wish 
 he had not accepted Anthony's invitation." 
 
 Vibart was, however, very much present, and entirely 
 at his ease, handsome and well-dressed, smiling with 
 a cynicism that was without bitterness upon the bride' 
 groom's sister and the bride herself, with both of whom 
 he had been on peculiar terms. Margery felt she 
 loathed herself as the situation flashed upon her, 
 Jack, Blanche, and herself! She could hardly persuade 
 herself that if he had succeeded with a perfectly ignorant 
 girl, whose very innocence presented certain difficulties,
 
 The Story of Eden 343 
 
 that he had not been met half way by such a woman 
 as Blanche. Bah ! how cheap it made her feel ! how it 
 coarsened the relations between men and women, mak- 
 ing even marriage a kind of mockery. She did not 
 condemn Blanche ; a certain power of reason made 
 Margery broad-minded enough to allow people to judge 
 for themselves ; but she suffered a new humiliation from 
 Vibart's mere presence. Why had he come? Surely 
 he must have known that she would never have sent 
 him the invitation if Anthony had not requested it 
 Vibart had called at the Rosary once when Madge had 
 been out ; the circumstance had not struck her much, 
 for she put it down to caution on his part, lest his not 
 calling should have a particular look from their being 
 old acquaintances. Once or twice, also, he had at- 
 tempted to talk to her when they met at the houses of 
 mutual friends, attempts which she had supposed 
 were due to his natural proclivity for pretty women, 
 and frustrated. Now it occurred to her suddenly that 
 he might not be as completely finished with as she had 
 fancied. Perhaps he had never really understood the 
 finality of her attitude ! She kept her eyes studiously 
 away from him, and entrenched herself among her 
 guests, up to the moment when Blanche came to say 
 good-bye previous to departing for Durban. 
 
 " Come and see us as soon as we get home," she 
 said to Madge with cordial affection and much frank- 
 ness. " I expect I shall be nearly dead of wanting 
 some one to speak to ! " 
 
 " Oh, Blanche ! and you are not two hours married ! 
 Do allow Anthony a fair trial ! " 
 
 " I 've been married before, my dear. As to An- 
 thony " She shrugged her shoulders amusedly. 
 " Good-bye. It is really a relief to get away from all 
 these people. My face is stiff with smiling ! " 
 
 Margery laughed outright. She kissed her new sister- 
 in-law, and followed her down to the carriage, admiring
 
 344 The Story of Eden 
 
 the fit of her gown and the undeniable, material beauty 
 of her face and figure. The Professor was fussing over 
 a carriage rug, and Blanche stood in a gleam of sunshine 
 for a minute, a living picture worth looking at by the 
 guests crowding round her. She had chosen a very 
 light shade of grey as her wedding gown, and the pic- 
 ture hat on her unnaturally red hair was the same shade. 
 She was big, luscious, unashamedly redundant of animal 
 life, and the obvious value of her flesh and blood lent a 
 miserly suggestion to her husband's narrow face and 
 hungry eyes. Mrs. Drysdale was one of the nearest to 
 the carriage, and she turned to Beau Livingston in open 
 wonder. 
 
 " The more I look at them, the more I marvel ! " she 
 said. " I have been in a state of increasing wonder since 
 I first heard of the engagement. From an intellectual 
 point of view, I should have thought them mostunsuited." 
 
 " Why discuss the intellectual point of view ? " said 
 Beau, blandly. " He is marrying her for very fleshly 
 reasons, and the uncomfortable certainty in his brain 
 that it is being overruled by er her finger nails, is 
 a consideration for the future." 
 
 " But who would have thought he was that sort of 
 man ! " 
 
 " My dear good soul, do not speak as if it were a 
 type ! Mankind is universal, not divisional." 
 
 " When you use long words, Beau, I always know 
 that it is done to cloak something indecent. I sha'n't 
 dissect you, however, I shall go and talk to True he 
 leaves a clean taste in my mouth." 
 
 They strolled off in different directions as the car- 
 riage bowled away in a shower of confetti, and tiny sil- 
 ver horseshoes which Margery and Starling had been 
 manufacturing for weeks past, with Truman's help, out 
 of lead paper. Margery also turned from the gate, and 
 came face to face with Vibart. He had probably been 
 looking at the bride, for the expression she called there
 
 The Story of Eden 345 
 
 had hardly faded from his eyes. Madge passed him 
 abruptly, with such scant courtesy that she nearly fell 
 into Mrs. Naseby's arms. 
 
 " Come round the garden, Mrs. Naseby," she said, 
 taking that lady firmly by the arm. " I want to show 
 you our last roses. They are not all over yet." As 
 they made their way up and down the terraces, she 
 added, " Well, how do you think it has gone off? " with 
 intent to leave her companion no time to think, or 
 realise the abruptness of her former movement. 
 
 " Oh, very well, indeed, my dear ! A pity that there 
 was n't more sun, was n't it? " 
 
 " Yes, the only advantage of the winter is that it gives 
 us a chance to air our furs, and furs are so becoming ! 
 Does n't Polly Harbord look well ! " 
 
 *' Very well, indeed. Ah ! that reminds me ! is it 
 true that she is to marry Dr. Langdon?" 
 
 " Good gracious, I don't think so ! " said Madge, 
 laughing. " She has n't said a word to me, and I am 
 sure she would have told me." 
 
 " Oh, well, I 'm glad to hear it, for he has n't a very 
 satisfactory reputation, has he? It was their being 
 about together so much gave rise to the report, I dare- 
 say. I must say I think she is rather careless. I heard 
 that they had been met in the train together at eleven 
 o'clock at night, coming out from Cape Town. Rather 
 queer, is n't it ? " 
 
 " I 'm sure it can't be true," said Madge, warmly. 
 " Though they are very old friends. You see he is so 
 often attending Mrs. Wrighton. By the way, Mrs. 
 Naseby, who are these people who are living next door ? 
 Polly says she can't think." 
 
 " Oh, my dear, he is a retired tradesman from some 
 horrible little place Up Country ! One can't possibly 
 know them ! They Ve settled here hoping to get taken 
 up, I suppose, and thinking that no one would know. 
 If he had come from Cape Town, he wouldn't have
 
 346 The Story of Eden 
 
 attempted it. And she was a barmaid, and they say she 
 has another husband in Natal ! I really don't know 
 who won't settle here next, and pretend to be all right. 
 Who do you think I saw driving the other day?" 
 
 " I don't know." Madge was really amused, and 
 was beginning to laugh. 
 
 " Why, that disreputable nurse of Mrs. Stratton's 
 whom she had to dismiss two years ago for carrying on 
 with Mr. Livingston. I 'm really sorry for Mrs. Strat- 
 ton. She shipped the woman Home, hoping to get rid 
 of her, for the story was none too creditable. And now 
 she 's come back, married, too, I hear, to a wealthy 
 Jew, and is going to live hereabouts, I suppose." 
 
 Caroline ! The memory of the woman's comely self- 
 contained face rose up before Madge's mind with the 
 words, " Mrs. Stratton's nurse." It was Mrs. Naseby, 
 she recollected, who, two years ago at Mrs. Wrighton's 
 first tennis party, gave her the clue to the identity of 
 her companion at Hout's Bay. She knew it was the 
 same. Caroline here ! risen up out of her past into 
 her present, to confront her with a more deadly fear 
 than Vibart's return or the gossip of the neighbourhood. 
 Of all her reasons for dread, evoked by her gradual 
 realisation that her secret might leak out, the possibility 
 of the one witness who could condemn her reappearing 
 on her horizon, had been the least present to Margery's 
 mind. Somehow, the woman once out of Africa, she 
 had taken it for granted that they would never come 
 face to face again, a groundless supposition, she could 
 see at once, for the world is too small for one human 
 being to escape from another out of all its millions, 
 once there arises a particular reason for such an escape. 
 Yet she had blindly regarded herself as safe at this 
 point, and, behold, her foe had already entered in so far 
 that the keys of the fortress seemed to be hers no 
 longer ! Why was Caroline here ? Was there a menace 
 in her return? For her own sake the woman would
 
 The Story of Eden 347 
 
 have surely avoided a neighbourhood where it seemed 
 she had been notorious, even though she had the new 
 protection of her married name. It was with diffi- 
 culty that Madge detached herself sufficiently from the 
 problem to answer Mrs. Naseby's remarks with any de- 
 gree of understanding, and she hailed the announcement 
 of that lady's cart and her subsequent departure with 
 relief. 
 
 " Does Jack know ? Shall I warn him ? " she thought 
 suddenly, struck by a new idea. " Perhaps he holds 
 some power over the woman, he could give me a 
 counter threat of exposure to meet her with, if if she 
 attacks me ! " 
 
 She looked round her anxiously. The guests were 
 thinning, but there were still too many eyes to note it, if 
 she dared to attempt a confidential conversation with 
 Vibart. Beaumont Livingston and Johnnie Dodd were 
 discussing the interminable Political Situation with no 
 suggestion of leave-taking in their half-filled tumblers of 
 whisky and soda. As Madge approached them (she 
 interrupted ruthlessly with a hope that once disturbed 
 they might go), she heard Mr. Johnnie say, " My only 
 fear is that they won't fight. If they arbitrate and 
 come to terms, we shall be in a worse plight than 
 ever." 
 
 " Do you want us to fight, Mr. Johnnie ? " Madge 
 said, pausing beside him and Livingston. u Now, Beau, 
 don't tell me that your friend shot the tiger in the 
 jungle, because I heard all that preceding speech, so 
 it 's no use." 
 
 " My dear Madge, you are welcome to the whole of 
 Johnnie's tirade, without interpolation of wild beasts. 
 He is quite harmless ! He only wants the whole of 
 Africa ceded to Great Britain, Rhodes as Viceroy, and 
 Johannesburg as the capital. His own incidental advan- 
 tages would develop themselves. I should take Olive 
 Schreiner for my share ! "
 
 348 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I should be glad to see our fellows get the Franchise," 
 said Mr. Johnnie, good-humouredly. " I Ve lived in the 
 Transvaal, and I know. Your husband has given us a 
 free run of the whisky, Mrs. Crofton ; do you approve ? " 
 
 " Of course she approves," said Beau, lightly. " Empty 
 bottles are the proof of a bridal success. The more she 
 can persuade us to drink, the better the wedding will 
 have gone off. Here 's Vibart trying to say good-bye, 
 without half doing his share ! That 's the worse of being 
 a Lieu. -Colonel. It always demoralises men they are 
 afraid to set a bad example ! " 
 
 " The only thing worth setting in your philosophy ! " 
 retorted Vibart. " Good-bye, Mrs. Crofton. I con- 
 gratulate you on the way everything has gone off! " 
 
 " Which example you are following by going off well 
 on your own account," said Madge, smiling, as she held 
 out her hand. As her fingers touched his a wild impulse 
 seized her to try and tell him would it be safe to 
 attempt the double conversation which they had so often 
 proved successful? No, Beau was too near, and his 
 wits were too quick ! Unconsciously, however, her hand 
 closed on his with a little spasmodic pressure, in her 
 half-formed intention. He answered the pressure at 
 once, he never failed to do that, she had known of 
 old, but without betraying himself even by a look. 
 Margery drew her hand away, dismayed at herself. She 
 had accomplished nothing beyond making him think 
 that she hesitated on the brink of a revival. 
 
 Yet the necessity for immediate action remained. At 
 any moment she might have to face disclosure ; perhaps 
 even now Caroline was setting the train of gunpowder 
 alight which was to blow her carefully erected fortress 
 of respectability sky high. She tossed feverishly all 
 night, her brain distraught with plans, and when the 
 morning brought unexpected business for Lanse in Cape 
 Town, she almost hailed it as salvation. At all events 
 she should have the whole day to consider in, if not to
 
 The Story of Eden 349 
 
 make use of in any more profitable manner, for he would 
 not be home until seven o'clock. 
 
 " I am sorry to leave you alone all day," he said, as 
 he set off. " Will you go round and see Starling ? Don't 
 mope by yourself, dear." 
 
 " Yes, perhaps I will," said Madge, restlessly. " I 
 don't know. Good-bye, Lanse, sure you won't be 
 home until seven ? " 
 
 " I 'm afraid I can't possibly I may be later, but 
 I '11 try not to keep dinner waiting." 
 
 She watched him drive away with a busy brain. The 
 simplest plan would be to send a note to Camp and ask 
 Vibart to come in to tea, a summons he would be 
 ready enough to answer if no official duty intervened, 
 particularly after her unfortunate hand-clasp yesterday, 
 she thought ! But there were several objections. In 
 the first place, she did not want to write to him asking 
 him to come, a piece of evidence against herself that 
 she had grown too cautious to risk ; nor did she want to- 
 send the letter to Camp by hand, as she must do, with the 
 certainty of its appearing in the rack for half the Mess to 
 see. In the second place, she was afraid of an interrup- 
 tion ; any one might drop in at tea-time, and not only 
 discover Vibart with her, but prevent her speaking to 
 him alone, for she dared not give instructions to her ser- 
 vants that no one else was to be admitted. Thirdly, 
 this was a mere sentiment, but strong in a feminine mind 
 for that very reason, she hated the thought of receiv- 
 ing him under her husband's roof, and especially in 
 Lanse's absence. She wondered what Vibart was doing 
 to-day, if it would be possible to meet him by chance, 
 driving or riding, and speak to him then and there. 
 She had no certainty even that he was in Camp, or was 
 not engaged by some social duty. She had not 
 heard him say the day before, having avoided him as 
 much as possible. 
 
 Still cogitating, she wandered out among her flowers,
 
 350 The Story of Eden 
 
 in the winter sunshine. It was a cold July day, but the 
 sky was clear. Madge walked from terrace to terrace, 
 and was near the boundary of the plumbago hedge, when 
 she heard some one hail her. 
 
 It was True. He was standing in the deep red road, 
 some feet below her, by his bicycle, having evidently 
 just dismounted. He was smiling, and his big eyes 
 looked like a dark bar across his face at that distance, 
 for the sun was behind him. 
 
 " Good-morning, Lady ! " he said. " I met Crofton 
 driving to the Station." 
 
 "Yes, I 'm all alone. Come in for a minute, True, 
 no, I'll come to the gate." She ran down the wide 
 moss-grown steps and shook hands. " Lansing is going 
 to be in Cape, Town all day," she said. "He can't 
 get back till dinner-time. I feel like a lone, lorn 
 widow ! " 
 
 " I wish I could come and keep you company, but 
 I 'm on duty I 'm going to Camp," True said, he 
 was in uniform, " and I sha'n't be free till this after- 
 noon. I suppose that 's too late ? " 
 
 " It is rather. I think I shall go for a ride immedi- 
 ately after lunch. It gets dark so soon now ! Anything 
 on to-day in particular ? " 
 
 " No, only the usual routine. I was up at five this 
 morning, with musketry practice ! " 
 
 " Poor True, how hard they work you ! Where 's 
 Mr. Forrester ? " 
 
 " He 's Captain for the week." 
 
 " How he must hate it ! And the Colonel? " 
 
 True turned his head and looked down the blue- 
 bordered road. " He 's going over to luncheon on one 
 of the boats, I think," he said gently. "The Skate has 
 a luncheon party." 
 
 " Oh ! I thought I heard Polly Harbord say he 
 was going to tea at Mrs. Wrighton's," said Madge, 
 mendaciously.
 
 The Story of Eden 351 
 
 " Yes, he is, I believe there, or to the Jacksons'/' 
 True agreed. 
 
 (" That was a fluke ! " thought Madge. " How lucky 
 I suggested it.") " He will have to ride hard to get out 
 from Simon's Town after a luncheon party, in time for 
 tea at the Jacksons' ! " she said carelessly. " He goes 
 there a good deal, does n't he ? " 
 
 " I believe so." 
 
 " Mrs. Jackson is a pretty woman! " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 Madge laughed a little heart-whole laugh of real 
 amusement, and True smiled as if he liked the sound. 
 " He must ride," she remarked idly. " He would take 
 still longer if he came by train." 
 
 " He '11 be all right if he starts about three," said 
 True. The gravity that was almost like a cloud on his 
 sunny face had disappeared with Madge's tribute to 
 Mrs. Jackson's good looks. It was quite genuine, and 
 he knew it. " Good-bye, Lady ! I suppose you can't 
 hear our band practising from here ? " 
 
 " No, I don't think so. No, of course not all out 
 at Simon's Town ! How can you ask such a silly 
 question ? " 
 
 " I thought they might be playing the National 
 Anthem," said True, innocently. " I somehow felt as if 
 they were." 
 
 " Oh ! no, not the Queen to-day, True ! " Madge 
 said laughing, and drawing her hand away. She watched 
 him out of sight rather thoughtfully, and turned to the 
 house with a sigh. 
 
 The hours droned on, keeping pace with the indeci- 
 sion of her mind. Should she go and meet him ? After 
 all, no one could prove that she had ridden that way 
 with that intent. It was a high road, and free to any 
 one. But should she not? Then she would meet 
 Lanse with a freer conscience, but the danger would be 
 as formidable as ever.
 
 352 The Story of Eden 
 
 At last it was after luncheon she ordered her 
 pony with a kind of desperate impatience, and went up 
 to her own room to put on her habit. It was still fair, 
 and the lengthening sunshine was warm about her as she 
 mounted, and rode out of the stable yard. The black 
 groom touched his forehead, and asked curiously, she 
 thought if he should accompany her. " Oh, no, that 
 is not necessary, Henry," she said carelessly. " Be sure 
 and take the cart down to the Station to meet your 
 master ; you had better start about half-past six but I 
 shall be back before then." Did the man look after her 
 with any meaning in his stupid dusky face, or was it her 
 fancy? She rode away from the old grey house in its 
 tangle of vegetation, through the crisp sunshine of the 
 winter afternoon, southwards. 
 
 Truman's duties had been somewhat heavy that 
 morning, and he sat down to his luncheon with a sigh of 
 physical satisfaction. The old farmhouse which had 
 been lent to the Mess boasted a long front room beamed 
 and tiled in the true Dutch fashion, and which formed a 
 picturesque background when the Officers blossomed 
 out into red and gold at dinner-time. True looked 
 round him appreciatively, stretched his limbs in his work- 
 a-day khaki, and noticed that so many of his seniors 
 had warned off that he would have to take the head of 
 the table at Mess that night. Then he listened to a little 
 story with which Mowbray was brimming over, concern- 
 ing a certain fat lady who, during a call at Government 
 House, had cracked a chair with her weight, and the 
 Lady who was receiving, and the Governor, and the 
 Military Secretary, had all rushed pell-mell to the rescue, 
 as if it were a football scramble and the stout lady the 
 ball. It was told without malice, after the broad lines 
 of Mowbray's nature, and True laughed. After lunch 
 he went off to his quarters, congratulating himself that he 
 could get some sleep, for he had been up at five as he 
 had told Madge. He had been resting most beautifully
 
 The Story of Eden 353 
 
 for about half an hour, when his servant roused him 
 with the information that Major Yeats had asked for 
 him. 
 
 True swore softly. " He might have let a poor devil 
 get a little rest ! " he said pathetically. " Did you say 
 I was asleep, Stone ? " 
 
 " Yesser. Major Yeats asked if 'e could come in 'ere, 
 Sir." 
 
 " Yes, ask him if he will it will save my getting up 
 for another minute or so at least," said True, yawning. 
 He glanced round the room apologetically as the Major 
 entered, for he knew that his special failing was extreme 
 disorder among his belongings. 
 
 "Awf'ly sorry to receive you like this, Major," he 
 said. " Have a cigar, won't you ? Lights on the table." 
 
 " All right, True. Don't get up. Have they put you 
 onto musketry practice ? " 
 
 " Yes, worse luck ! Half-past four to turn out every 
 morning. Well, any news?" 
 
 " Not particularly. It 's rather dull in Town." Yeats 
 was with the Garrison Artillery. " I came over to call 
 on the Admiral, and as I was early I thought I 'd look 
 you up." 
 
 As the lack of consideration for a fellow-soldier 
 docked of his rightful hours of sleep was unprecedented 
 from his guest, True simply lay and stared at him with 
 all his eyes. Yeats would never have had him roused up 
 in such an inhuman fashion just to pass the time before 
 he went to Admiralty House. True waited, trying to 
 read the lined rugged face, and the shrewd eyes that 
 betrayed nothing, and noted in an idle fashion that 
 Yeats was growing very grey about the temples, and 
 that the eyeglass which was reported to never leave his 
 eye seemed to have drawn a perfect network of wrinkles 
 about it. 
 
 " I met Crofton coming out from town," said Yeats, 
 meditatively, as he blew a cloud of smoke. 
 2 3
 
 354 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Crofton ! I thought he was in all day. Mrs. Crof- 
 ton told me so. I saw her this morning." 
 
 " Ah ! He told me he finished up business un- 
 expectedly. Glad to get home and not leave his wife 
 alone all day, I suppose." (There was a troubled 
 pause. " And where is the Colonel ? " said Madge's 
 voice in True's brain.) " Crofton 's a good sort of fel- 
 low, but rather inclined to suspect every man who looks 
 at his wife, I fancy," said Yeats. " I wonder he does n't 
 take her Home for a time. She is rather over-popular 
 here perhaps. I should think a year or so, to shake 
 down, would be good for them both. There would 
 be less chance of some stupid rupture between them 
 then." 
 
 (" He '11 have to ride hard to get out from Simon's 
 Town after a luncheon party, in time for tea at the Jack- 
 sons' ! " said Madge's voice. " And he must ride. He 
 would take still longer if he came by train." 
 
 " He '11 be all right if he starts about three," answered 
 True's in his own memory. He involuntarily glanced 
 at the clock.) 
 
 " I saw Mrs. Crofton on the way here," said Yeats, 
 slowly. " I suppose she thought she 'd have a ride to 
 pass the time. I wanted to speak to her and tell her 
 her husband would be home first, but she would n't stop. 
 She turned off by a side road, and I lost her." 
 
 He turned round and looked at True. 
 
 " I should n't wonder if Crofton rode out to meet her 
 it gets dusk early, and he would be sure to get ner- 
 vous, as she had no groom," he remarked. 
 
 "Yes," said True, vaguely. He got off the bed and 
 began mechanically getting into his riding things. 
 
 " I saw your Colonel's horse waiting before the Mess. 
 Is he going towards Wynberg?" 
 
 "Yes " 
 
 "He knows all the short cuts and side paths, of 
 course ? "
 
 The Story of Eden 355 
 
 " Yes Had he started when you came in here ? 
 He has been lunching on the Skate" 
 
 "No, I don't think he had come back." 
 
 " I '11 see what I can do," said True, simply. 
 
 " It would be a pity if there were a misunderstanding 
 which might be avoided," said Yeats, slowly. " I would 
 have followed her, but I could hardly say anything. 
 You know her so much better than I do." 
 
 " Yes," said True, again. " Yeats, go and order my 
 pony for me, will you ? " 
 
 The older man got up with a quickness his lazy atti- 
 tude had given no hint of, and swung out of the room. 
 Five minutes later True went round to the stables, threw 
 himself into the saddle without a word, and tore out of 
 the yard. 
 
 He did not know yet whether or no he was too late. 
 Vibart might have a start of him, for he had not stopped 
 to see. Crofton he knew had. As he leaned forward 
 in the saddle, and the Basuto pony galloped down the 
 road, he was hardly conscious of his own tired limbs, or 
 the surprised stare of the few Kaffirs whom he passed 
 he was only conscious of the hopelessness of it all. 
 The houses swung past him, and the sudden dark de- 
 scending made the road dangerous, but he never slack- 
 ened the pace. It struck him as a strange thing that he 
 was doing, a thing that could never have taken place 
 at Home, racing along this queer foreign road, which 
 looked so weirdly unfamiliar in the growing darkness, to 
 do he knew not what. Even what he was going to 
 say, did he succeed in reaching her first, was a vague 
 uncertainty that troubled his brain ; his pony's hoofs 
 beat it out on the smooth road, " What will you say ? 
 How can you say anything?" 
 
 " After all I may be going on a fool's errand or if 
 I meet her I may only make her angry," he thought 
 rather miserably. The ride wearied him ; there was no 
 pleasure even in the steady swing of the onward pace \
 
 356 The Story of Eden 
 
 he felt as if the soreness of his heart made his limbs ache 
 also. Kalk Bay St. James Mizenburg at last, the 
 road branching off inland from the sea, the last light glim- 
 mering on the broad surface of the Vleis as he swerved 
 round them away from the railway, he rode slower 
 now, looking about him as if he half hoped, half feared 
 to find what he came to seek. Between Diep River 
 and Plumpstead he thought he heard, far along the soli- 
 tary road behind him, the sound of another horse's 
 hoofs. The rider had not come at a pace equal to his 
 own, but he also was in a hurry, unconscious though he 
 might be. ... True's eyes peered round him in the dark- 
 ness ; to his right there was nothing but a dark planta- 
 tion of trees, to the left a small by-path wound into 
 another plantation, and under the dark branches some- 
 thing moved, some yards away. He wheeled short, for 
 he could not afford to waste time, and rode close to it 
 before either of them could see the other. 
 
 " Jack ! " said a voice out of the darkness. True 
 recognised the terse excitement and uncertainty of the 
 tone, which had the quality of a violin-string strung to 
 breaking pitch. 
 
 There was no time to think now what he should say. 
 His own overwrought senses caught the sound of those 
 approaching hoofs. " Mrs. Crofton," he said breath- 
 lessly, and without waiting to choose words, "Turn 
 round and go home quickly ! Your husband came out 
 from town an hour ago he may come to meet you." 
 
 " True ! " The startled voice had a new note of dis- 
 may. "What do you mean?" Madge said, and he 
 felt that she gathered up her reins to take to flight. 
 
 " Don't ask me don't stay and talk go ! Ride 
 hard!" he commanded tersely. "The Tracker is just 
 behind us he had better not see you he might 
 guess what you came for. Ride on straight I '11 turn 
 and stop him, and keep him talking for a few minutes 
 to give you a start."
 
 The Story of Eden 357 
 
 She had ridden out of the shelter of the trees before 
 he finished speaking, and for a moment he caught a 
 glimpse of her stricken white face. Then he heard her 
 horse begin to trot, change from a trot to a canter 
 faster faster still and the galloping hoofs died into 
 distance. True turned his panting, dripping pony and 
 rode back along the road by which he came. 
 
 The rapid twilight darkens all the land about five in 
 July. Out of the darkness, into the electric light of his 
 own road, came a blurred figure a double figure, 
 human and animal, and Crofton pulled up his horse and 
 exclaimed with relief. 
 
 " Madge ! I was just setting out to meet you. My 
 dear child, you should n't ride alone so late ! They told 
 me you had gone towards Plumpstead." 
 
 "It is barely five, Lanse, only it gets dark so early 
 now. But I 'in sorry I was out when you came in ; I 
 thought I had plenty of time for a ride, and there 
 was nothing else to do. How was it you got out so 
 early?" 
 
 " Oh, I could n't see one man, and soon squared 
 another. Your voice sounds tired, Sweetheart. I hope 
 you did n't overdo it ! " 
 
 " Oh, no it was a lovely day for a ride I only 
 want my tea." 
 
 She almost dreaded going into the lighted hall, and 
 surreptitiously rubbed her cheeks while he dismounted. 
 But though she might get the colour back she could not 
 drive the stricken look from her eyes or the hopeless 
 droop from her lips. As she stood by the tea-table eat- 
 ing her tea, and trying to talk as usual, she was strug- 
 gling with the consciousness of a great shame. True 
 knew ! he guessed, something. Though he could 
 not know the reason of her wish to meet Vibart, and 
 probably misjudged her in that particular, he knew, and 
 she could not deny, the damning fact that she did 
 want to meet him that she had calculated on her hus-
 
 358 The Story of Eden 
 
 band's absence, and ridden out to waylay him. And 
 True had come to warn her, having heard she won- 
 dered how that Lanse was coming home and might 
 ride to meet her and discover her with Vibart. 
 
 " Did you meet any one you knew, Lanse ? " she said, 
 with a puzzled feeling that she must discover how he 
 had encountered True. 
 
 " I met Yeats in the train he went on to Simon's 
 Town. Then I stopped at the Drysdales on the way 
 up, and then I came home to find you riding in the 
 darkness unprotected ! That 's what comes of leaving 
 one's wife for the day ! " He laughed and put his arm 
 round her, pleased to be back early and to have found 
 her safe at hand after all. " You must n't go out with- 
 out Henry another time, Madge. I don't like these 
 roads for women after dark, even on horseback." 
 
 Major Yeats also ! so the thought wound in and 
 out of Margery's brain, even while she smiled apologeti- 
 cally and said she would do as he wished. Did every 
 one the whole world know ? Mowbray's warnings 
 and the shock she had received from them were as 
 nothing to this. The unvarnished horror of True's 
 words came back to her and struck her like a blow. 
 He had had no time to soften them, and she felt in her 
 humiliation that she had proved their truth by accepting 
 them in the stress of the moment without a protest. 
 " The Tracker is just behind us he had better not see 
 you he might guess what you came for!" But how 
 could she protest ? What was there to protest against 
 save that he told her the bare, ugly truth ? In the bitter- 
 ness of her heart she realised that the thing that she had 
 thrust into the background the irradicable thing that 
 she had thought she could put on one side, and be 
 happy in spite of it, cropped up everywhere to mark 
 and shame her. It was spoiling all her married life, 
 even though she succeeded in hiding it from her hus- 
 band. It was lowering her in her friends' opinion
 
 The Story of Eden 359 
 
 for what could True really think of her? it was Nem- 
 esis, perpetually stalking at her side and darkening the 
 sunshine, and spreading nets for her feet, until she grew 
 tired of struggling against it. Throughout the evening 
 her thoughts kept wilfully straying to Simon's Town, 
 and to True, and trying vainly to reconstruct his atti- 
 tude with regard to her. How long had he suspected? 
 To-day yesterday a month ago ? Had Major Yeats 
 been the one to suggest it to him ? How far had the 
 story spread ? It was perhaps merciful that she could 
 not know. 
 
 Truman took the head of the table that night, as he 
 had foreseen earlier in the day. Facing him down the 
 long vista of regimental plate, and between the red- 
 shaded candles, he could catch a glimpse of Ransom's 
 pink-and-white face and little yellow moustache, for the 
 Brawler was Vice, and away on each side stretched 
 scarlet jacket against scarlet jacket with the silver Grey- 
 hound of the Duke's flashing from the dark-blue facings. 
 The careless bronzed faces became flushed and heated 
 as the wine went round, and the conversation increased 
 in colour and allusion, for none of the older men were 
 present to act as a restraint. Suddenly a few words 
 sprang out of the general hum and struck on Truman's 
 ears. They were spoken in a lowered tone to a next- 
 door neighbour, but not quite so carefully as if the 
 speaker had been on his guard. Truman paused delib- 
 erately before helping himself to the last course, in order 
 to be sure, and then turned to identify the speaker, 
 though his quick ears had distinguished the voice. It 
 was Forrester, and what he had said was, "The Cun- 
 ningham girl who fooled her husband." 
 
 The man to whom the words had been directed was 
 Scott Murray, the Adjutant. Both he and Forrester 
 had been frequent visitors at Vine Lodge and the 
 Rosary, and Truman knew that they would neither of 
 them hesitate an instant to accept any hospitality offered
 
 360 The Story of Eden 
 
 to them by the Croftons. There was a somewhat raised 
 discussion over the last gymkana going on among the 
 other Officers which hummed safely above Forrester's 
 words, but Truman waited with sharpened ears for the 
 reply. 
 
 " The Tracker is stalking again, but it 's an old prey. 
 She is a damned little fool ! " 
 
 " He was going in that direction to-day. He 's got a 
 new dodge and pretends that it 's the Jackson woman 
 but she would n't look at him ! He really went to the 
 Rosary of course. I suppose the hubby was safely 
 packed off to town, first thing this morning " 
 
 " The Tracker generally hunts by night rather than by 
 day ! " 
 
 Truman had finished the course, and leaned back in 
 his chair. There was a little swing of his shoulders as 
 he settled himself into his uniform. In that moment 
 Henderson, on the other side of Forrester, caught the 
 drift of the conversation, and joined in. 
 
 " She was at Kenilworth on Saturday," he said with 
 the desire of a very young man to appear as knowing 
 in the vices of this world as his seniors. "And the 
 Tracker was trying to hang round their cart with that 
 loathly leer of his. Crofton seems to be as blind as a 
 bat unless it 's intentional." 
 
 " A happy house-party, perhaps " 
 
 Murray broke off short. He had spoken with a 
 laugh, and without the guard of Forrester's lowered 
 tones, and his Captain was resting one hand on the table 
 and leaning forward, so that their eyes met. 
 
 " Mr. Murray," said Truman, with the quick distinct 
 utterance which went down the whole table. " May I 
 remind you that it is not etiquette to mention ladies at 
 Mess." 
 
 The words carried. Men at the further end ceased 
 their conversation and looked up, conscious that some- 
 thing was going on. The long mess-table was for the
 
 The Story of Eden 361 
 
 moment as immovable as a picture, the Subalterns 
 turning in their chairs with puzzled or eager faces to 
 look at the two principal figures, Murray, wine-flushed 
 and with the courage of his dinner in him, glaring at his 
 senior. But there was a look on Truman's face which 
 made the Adjutant's insolence waver. He was a fat 
 young man with protruding eyes, and his skin went a 
 dull crimson as he faced Truman's steady gaze. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Captain Truman," he said stiffly, 
 and turning to Forrester he launched into less dangerous 
 subjects. True's eyes left the two as though he had 
 never seen them, and rested absently on a piece of plate 
 in front of him. It represented two wild beasts under a 
 palm-tree tearing each other savagely, and, like all 
 pieces of presentation plate in messes, it was of no 
 earthly use, and too cumbersome to be ornamental. 
 But the beasts were finely moulded, and the cruelty of 
 slaughter was rather cleverly conveyed in their attitudes ; 
 the lion was down, turning helplessly to snap and snarl 
 at the victorious tiger, who was tearing him. Something 
 in the beast's evil, savage face put Truman in mind of 
 his Colonel. The hideous likeness seemed to start out 
 of the mess-plate as he looked at it, and he stared at the 
 silver tiger in troubled fascination. It was a fanciful 
 notion, but did not Jack Vibart tear his prey in something 
 the same fashion ? Was there no beast of prey lurking 
 in that handsome human exterior? Truman, though 
 he did not speak of it openly as some of his brother 
 Officers, had no less knowledge of the Tracker's 
 rapacity. 
 
 " If she could only be stopped in time," thought the 
 little fellow rapidly his mind worked in the quick deft 
 fashion of his speech. u If I could only warn her ! 
 there does n't seem to be any one else to do it and I 
 hardly know how to, without making her angry with me. 
 Not that I should mind that so much, if it did any 
 good."
 
 362 The Story of Eden 
 
 He rose mechanically, for the band had risen too and 
 were singing in mighty harmony " God save the 
 Queen ! " This was a custom in the Duke's, many of 
 whose bandsmen had trained voices, and preferred to 
 sing the national anthem after Mess, instead of playing 
 it. The music reminded True of the foolish friendly 
 little joke between him and Madge, and he almost 
 groaned as he remembered the incident of that morning, 
 and her mischievous, innocent eyes as she drew her hand 
 away without letting him kiss it, subject-wise. " Not 
 the Queen to-day, True," she said. He wondered if she 
 would ever look at him again quite so, after his breathless 
 warning of the afternoon, and the terrible plain speak- 
 ing to which he had been driven. Truman had come 
 very close to heartache over Margery's sunny person- 
 ality, and the pussy-cat ways which had attracted not 
 only Vibart, but Beau Livingston and Barton and a 
 host of others. He kept his wounds to himself, and 
 Madge suspected the possibility of True being " real," 
 as far as she was concerned, as little as she would have 
 suspected the men who professed to be her friends 
 bandying her name about at Mess. But True was very 
 fond of Madge Crofton, as he had been of Madge Cun- 
 ningham, and though his friendship for her was simply 
 honest liking since her marriage, he still kept an espe- 
 cially warm corner of his heart for her his " Lady," of 
 whom these men about him had spoken as " A damned 
 little fool!" 
 
 " God save the Queen ! " rang the voices of the 
 band. 
 
 " Amen ! " said the Captain, loyally, with a double 
 application of the words, and walked off to his quarters, 
 neglecting his usual resort of the billiard table, which 
 the same good Samaritan who owned the old farmhouse 
 had lent to the Duke's, and round which the younger 
 men had speedily congregated. 
 
 " What 's up with True ? He 's awfully sick to-night,"
 
 The Story of Eden 363 
 
 Tennyson said as he chalked his cue. "Your play, 
 Silence." 
 
 Wright cannoned without answering, and the Brawler, 
 who was marking, took it upon him to reply. 
 
 " True is coming out as a knight-errant of distressed 
 damsels who are no better than they should be. 
 Beauty was always irresistible to him." 
 
 " True 's a deuced good sort," said Silence, shortly. 
 He was one of the senior Subs, and when he did open 
 his lips he did not fear to speak, even to a Captain. 
 "A good many of our seats might be vacant in the 
 Mess without any one caring much about it but True 
 would make a big gap." 
 
 " The President is popular ! but no one wants to 
 depreciate True. What was up between him and 
 Murray to-night? I couldn't hear at my end of the 
 table, but Mowbray says there was a row, and told me 
 something of the cause." 
 
 " It was Forrester's fault. He was talking in his own 
 sweet little style about a woman, a mutual acquaint- 
 ance, but we need n't mention names, and Murray 
 added some of his own delicate opinions. True got 
 rusty for once, and stopped it." 
 
 " True will lose his popularity if he interferes with the 
 conversation like that it's almost unheard of," said 
 Wright. He knew many things in his quiet way. " The 
 Mess takes its tone from the Colonel. Unless the 
 Tracker goes, reformation is hopeless." 
 
 "And Forrester in particular is such an everlasting 
 copy of Vibart. I don't believe Hard Lines was the 
 most to blame to-night." 
 
 " I wish the Tracker would go," said Tennyson, 
 honestly. " His escapades are a disgrace to the Mess. 
 How any decent woman can have him to her house, if 
 she knows him but then she does n't." 
 
 " She would hardly be decent if she did," remarked 
 Wright, dryly. " You to play, Bard. What a duffing
 
 364 The Story of Eden 
 
 stroke ! we want True here to preach cannons to you 
 wonder why he does n't turn up to-night? " 
 
 The Captain of B Company was at that moment 
 sitting in his own room, among a pile of cushions, in 
 extreme dejection. Six dogs had come to share his 
 solitude, with one exception, his own property, and 
 had grouped themselves in picturesque attitudes about 
 him and his arm-chair, their wet noses affectionately 
 rubbing portions of his person at intervals. But True 
 was not to be distracted from his gloom even when 
 Wags, the Irish terrier, did his best to tarnish the gold 
 lace on his master's mess-jacket, and Miss Anderson 
 played a devil's tattoo on the smooth cloth of his knee 
 with the sharpest foot-claws that a colley bitch ever pos- 
 sessed. True ordered them off absently, and continued 
 his mental inspection of the moral atmosphere of AVyn- 
 berg. It was not encouraging. He foresaw Mrs. 
 Naseby and her associates pulling Madge's reputation to 
 pieces at the next tennis, if the story grew as it had 
 done since Vibart's return, and Beau Livingston telling 
 witty stories at the Club and the Vineyard. He dropped 
 his head in his hands and sat thinking thinking how 
 Madge might best be spared. The efficiency of his be- 
 loved Company had never received deeper thought from 
 him, but he found no solution of the problem, which was 
 likely to grow more complicated as time went on, unless 
 by a happy chance the Croftons went Home. The 
 story might be forgotten then, and the Regiment moved 
 on to Natal. It was a floating population, and by the 
 time Madge came back to the neighbourhood, if she 
 ever did, there might not be a tongue left to wag over 
 her name. But as long as she remained in Wynberg, 
 the danger of the scandal grew and grew. There was 
 nothing to hope from Vibart the whole affair was 
 miserable. His head went a shade lower, and the dogs 
 drew closer together and became concerned. True's 
 attitude suggested trouble, and trouble for True meant
 
 The Story of Eden 365 
 
 a combination among the dogs against some person or 
 persons unknown. 
 
 " What 's up ? " said the Retriever, in amazement. 
 "Is it Orderly Room or mess-badgering? He's Presi- 
 dent again, but, Lord ! it can't be that for True." 
 
 " Colonel or Subs, I 'm willing to take an inch out 
 of their ankles for it ! " snapped Miss Anderson, the 
 Colley. 
 
 " It 's not the Curronel it 's a woman ! " suggested 
 the Irish dog, with a wink. 
 
 " Well, I tell you this," said the wire-haired Mongrel, 
 " if Starling has been playing the fool with him, I '11 snap 
 at her th'e very next biscuit she offers me. She 's a nice 
 girl, but if she don't appreciate True, she must be learned. 
 That 's all." 
 
 " She gave me a chocolate cream the last time I was 
 at Friedenhof," said the Fox-terrier, who belonged to 
 Forrester. "It seems a pity but a small nip soon 
 heals, and she '11 thank us some day, poor girl ! It 's an 
 unlooked-for lack of taste on her part, though. My 
 master says " 
 
 "Don't you talk to me about your master," said the 
 Retriever, with a growl. " He kicked me on the sly the 
 other day. If True had n't called me to heel just then, 
 I 'd have seen Mr. Forrester all round the Camp ! " 
 
 The sixth dog was called by courtesy a rough-coated 
 Japanese. He did not speak, but he walked up to True 
 and squatted on his knee before his owner could eject 
 him, which had the effect of rousing the presumably re- 
 jected suitor at last. 
 
 " Confound the dogs ! they 're all over me. I shall 
 get rid of the whole lot," he said, a threat which did not 
 disturb any of his canine friends who knew its worth. 
 " There 's nothing to be done. Poor little Madge ! " 
 
 Her photo smiled at him from the looking-glass where 
 he had tucked it into the wood frame, and he smiled 
 back with a gravity in his eyes which Madge would
 
 366 The Story of Eden 
 
 hardly have recognised. He was very tired, both with 
 his early duties and the long day, his afternoon ride and 
 his own thoughts. With a despondency and weariness 
 very unlike him, he undressed and went to bed, most of 
 the dogs disposing themselves on his feet or about the 
 room. Some reflection of his mood must have reached 
 the sensitive minds of his companions, for the last thing 
 he heard was a deep sigh from Miss Anderson, as human 
 as his own might be, and the little snuffling breath 
 which sounded like a child sobbing and which the 
 rough-haired Mongrel always gave when his world went 
 askew.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 " Yea, beside the east-gate of Eden, 
 
 (Eden's bower 's in flower !) 
 Where God joined them and none might sever, 
 The sword turns this way and that for ever." 
 
 JULY glided into August, and still things waited. 
 People in England went away to the moors or the sea- 
 side or the country, as usual, and when conversation 
 dragged over the dinner-table, or there was really no 
 local interest, they said, " Do you think we shall have 
 War in South Africa? they say the Ministers have 
 urged it, and the Queen won't sign ! " And then some 
 one else said, " I hope not, I 'm sure. The Mining 
 shares would go down ! " And that was all. Downing 
 Street was silent, and the Press yawned over the Dreyfus 
 case still. 
 
 But in the Colony, the cord was strained almost to 
 breaking, and the life out there had the nervous tension 
 of a fractious woman who has to partake of a man's 
 danger without being told the why or wherefore. Eng- 
 land represented the man, and like a man kept its own 
 counsel. Africa was the woman who must look to her 
 lord and master for succour, and, truth to tell, doubts 
 but that he bestirs himself too slowly. 
 
 " The tone out here is most unhealthy just now," 
 Beau Livingston said discontentedly he was calling on 
 the Strattons, at Rondesbosch. " I left England be- 
 cause of their disgusting habit of falling into east winds 
 in the spring, and I am not out six months before the 
 whole social system is disturbed by the smell of War." 
 
 " But shall we have it, Mr. Livingston ? " said his
 
 368 The Story of Eden 
 
 hostess, doubtfully. " England is so reluctant to fight, if 
 she can settle things by talking nonsense. They always 
 talk nonsense at Home, it seems to me, when they want 
 to give another Power time to think better of it." 
 
 " Of course it will come," said Beau, quietly. " As 
 soon as the Boers are ready. I don't think they are as 
 yet. Or else Steyn is trying to drive a better bargain 
 with Kruger than any Briton ever succeeded in doing. 
 Set a Boer to match a Boer! But can't you see the 
 War yet? I can it is nearly in the middle distance 
 now. And it disturbs and annoys my pastoral existence 
 among the plumbago. All the Army men are being re- 
 called or refused leave, out here, True is hardly to be 
 consoled. He has not seen his mother for four years, 
 and he does not believe that he will get much chance 
 of active service." 
 
 " True adores his mother. It is just the sort of thing 
 one might expect from him, is n't it ? Why does n't he 
 think much of his chance?" 
 
 " They have all got an idea that they will be drafted 
 off to guard the Border, and that any fun there may be 
 will be further off in the Free State, I suppose. I 
 differ from them, but time will show. Anyhow we are all 
 more or less discontented, and Margery Crofton is ill, 
 and I find life uncomfortable." 
 
 "Is Mrs. Crofton ill? Poor little woman! I like 
 her very much, though I have never seen much of her. 
 What is the matter? I must go and call." 
 
 " Do. She likes visitors I was there yesterday, 
 and I have no doubt I shall find myself there to-morrow. 
 I don't know what the matter is, except that Crofton 
 insisted on her seeing a doctor, after the fussy habits of 
 husbands, and the doctor, after the manner of doctors, 
 said that she must have absolute rest. So she is on the 
 sofa. I must say she does it very well, and she looks 
 very nice on the sofa. Still, I would rather see her 
 running about as usual."
 
 The Story of Eden 369 
 
 Mrs. Stratton was not a very young woman, and she 
 had a certain kindness of heart under a cold exterior. 
 She had been transplanted to Africa too late to become 
 affected with the atmosphere. As Mrs. Drysdale said, 
 Women influenced the Colony, but the Colony in- 
 fluenced Girls. Mrs. Stratton was one of the Women 
 who influenced the Colony. She had remained serenely 
 English and unassailable during the three or four years 
 she had lived in the Suburbs, and the people whom she 
 did not care to cultivate always called her a prig. 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense, Mr. Livingston ! " she said 
 smiling. " But tell me all about it. Mrs. Crofton is not 
 a ma lade imaginaire, is she? " 
 
 " The powers preserve us, no ! The sofa frets her 
 as much as it becomes her. But I admit that her looks 
 suggest its advisableness. She has taken to a fragile 
 appearance which is inducing Crofton to go Home 
 sooner than he intended. If you can imagine a flower 
 which is temporarily invalided, and which the fairies have 
 put to bed on a moss-bank, you have got Mrs. Crofton 
 on her sofa." 
 
 " You are quite hopeless. But I will go and see for 
 myself." 
 
 Which she did the very next day, and drove over to 
 Wynberg in the afternoon. She found Madge alone, as 
 it chanced, Lanse having taken a flying visit to Con- 
 stantia at her own request ; the invalid was lying on a 
 sofa, as Beau had said, and her appearance was some- 
 thing of a shock to Mrs. Stratton. 
 
 " Please don't get up, Mrs. Crofton ! " she said, as 
 Margery hastily rose. " I heard through Mr. Livingston 
 that you had been ailing, and came over just to see how 
 you were. But if you will treat it as a formal call, I 
 shall feel obliged to go ! " 
 
 " Well, if you would rather I received you after the 
 manner of a Sultana," said Margery, laughing, as she 
 settled herself again on her couch, " J am so sorry my
 
 370 The Story of Eden 
 
 husband is out. He has been quite domestic lately, 
 helping me to entertain, and making up for my defici- 
 encies. But I sent him off to-day to look after his 
 hobby, the wine farm. It is so dreadful for a man to be 
 always tied to his wife's sofa, isn't it? " 
 
 " I think it depends a good deal on the wife, and 
 whether she pets her own ailments or is really unwell. 
 Mr. Crofton ought to take you Home. I expect the 
 climate is proving too much for you." 
 
 " I think it is rather. I have been out two years, and 
 they say the first two always serve you so. It seems 
 rather ridiculous doesn't it, when we get such perfect 
 weather, and it really is not such a very hot corner of 
 the world. I suppose it is the change from our English 
 inclemency. When we come out again I expect to stay 
 quite a long time without feeling it." 
 
 " I went Home after the first twelve months but 
 that was home-sickness ! " said Mrs. Stratton, laughing. 
 " Mrs. Naseby never goes now, she tells me. At least 
 not once in ten years. She has no ties in England, and 
 the climate suits her." 
 
 " Oh, by the way," Margery hurled herself with 
 characteristic decision into the opening given her, but 
 she clenched her little hot hands and her throat went 
 dry, " Mrs. Naseby was telling me that you had had 
 a most unpleasant experience with a servant of yours 
 whom you dismissed or sent Home or something." 
 She gathered breath and went on. " Is it true that she 
 has married and come out again? Lanse was saying 
 the other day that he should like to have white servants, 
 and we could bring them out from England. But really 
 it seems to me they generally turn out less satisfactory 
 than the black." 
 
 " I had an English nurse when I first came out," said 
 Mrs. Stratton, quietly. " I am sorry to say she got into 
 trouble here. There was a great deal of unpleasant talk, 
 and though I do not know that the woman was entirely
 
 The Story of Eden 371 
 
 to blame, I dismissed her because I could not have 
 that sort of a person in my household. We sent her 
 Home about two years ago." 
 
 "And she has come out again, married?" 
 
 " Certainly not. She could not have done so, for she 
 had caught fever while she was in Cape Town after 
 she left me, and died on the homeward voyage." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " The intense eagerness of Madge's 
 whole nature thrust even her prudence on one side. 
 She must know for certain, and she questioned Mrs. 
 Stratton determinedly. 
 
 " Quite certain. A friend of mine was going Home 
 on the same boat, and wrote to me about it. I am 
 sorry to say the woman was not behaving very well on 
 board, but her death was terribly sudden, poor thing ! 
 She was only ill a few days." 
 
 " Mrs. Naseby was so sure she had met her ! She 
 told me she had married a rich Jew." 
 
 " Mrs. Naseby is rather apt to be mistaken, when she 
 is most certain," said Mrs. Stratton, dryly. " I think I 
 know the people she means. I have seen the woman 
 driving. At first sight, she is rather like my nurse, 
 Caroline, I could see it myself; but the face is 
 quite different to any one who knew her." 
 
 Margery's whole body quivered with a sigh of relief. 
 Her intangible illness, which was mainly nerve-prostra- 
 tion due to the strain of the last months, and the endless 
 worry she had undergone, had ruined her old self-con- 
 trol and evenly balanced temperament. She found it 
 all she could do to keep up appearances before Mrs. 
 Stratton, after the sudden relief of that lady's announce- 
 ment of Caroline's death, and to talk of other topics as 
 usual. As her visitor rose to go, she paused by the 
 sofa and looked down at Madge. 
 
 " I really think you ought to go Home, Mrs. Crofton," 
 she said. " I shall tell your husband so when I next 
 see him. The Colony is so disturbed top that it is
 
 372 The Story of Eden 
 
 likely to be a most undesirable place of residence in 
 the near future." 
 
 " Mr. Livingston thinks we shall have War," remarked 
 Margery. She was wishing that Mrs. Stratton would 
 go, and fearing every moment that she would break 
 down. 
 
 " Yes, and indeed it looks like it. I suppose you 
 have heard about the Duke's?" 
 
 " No, except that they had a scare last week. All 
 the mess-plate was packed up, and they thought they 
 were really going." 
 
 " They are really going. They are off on Wednesday. 
 To Mafeking or Matjesfontein, they don't know which. 
 My husband met Major Reynolds this morning, and 
 heard it from him." 
 
 Margery sank back on her pillows turning very white. 
 The sudden evaporation of all her dangers together was 
 as great a shock to her jarred nerves as the exposure she 
 had dreaded would have been. Perhaps it shook her 
 more potently still, at the moment, for had she had to 
 face the worst, she would have braced herself to do it, 
 whereas the knowledge that by Vibart's departure, and 
 the ceasing of gossip among the men of the Duke's, her 
 own safety was secured, relaxed her strained senses so 
 that for a minute she thought she was going to faint. 
 She found herself saying mechanically, " I never knew 
 Major Reynolds well. He has only come out lately," 
 as she shook hands with Mrs. Stratton. Then with a 
 plucky effort she pulled herself together. " I shall be 
 awfully sorry if they lose any of the men I know," she 
 said as naturally as she could. " How dreadful it will 
 be saying good-bye to them all ! I wonder True did not 
 come and tell me." 
 
 " I expect he has hardly had time. There will be a 
 lot of leave-taking in the next week or so. The Rut- 
 landshire will probably follow them shortly." 
 
 (t And we shall be left quite unprotected ! Are you
 
 The Story of Eden 373 
 
 nervous, Mrs. Stratton ? Good-bye ! Thanks so much 
 for coming to see me. It is dull work lying here." 
 
 Mrs. Stratton went home with a thoughtful face. 
 "How white she went when I told her!" she said. 
 " And it is Colonel Vibart's Regiment ! Can there be 
 any truth in that story? More than ever now I think 
 Mr. Crofton ought to take his wife Home." 
 
 When Lansing came in, about twenty minutes later, he 
 was surprised to find no light in the room where he had 
 left Margery. She had evidently not rung for the ser- 
 vants to bring lamps, and he threw off his overcoat and 
 went into the room hastily to see to the omission for her. 
 
 "Why, Madge, why have n't you lighted up ? " he began, 
 stumbling against a low chair. There was only the fire 
 to struggle with the darkness, and that had sunk so low 
 that at first he did not see the outline of Margery's pros- 
 trate figure on the sofa. But he stopped short as if struck. 
 She was lying with her face buried in the cushions, cry- 
 ing as if her heart were breaking, and with the abandon- 
 ment of a child. He went over and dropped on his 
 knees by her side. 
 
 "Margery, what is it? Madge, my darling, do you 
 feel so ill?" 
 
 She laid her head on his shoulder as he raised her, 
 but for a time she was quite unable to stop the wild 
 tempest of tears which had overtaken her. He could 
 have no idea that the fit of crying which so frightened 
 him was the long pent-up terror of the past twelve months 
 finding relief at last. Nor could she explain. After a 
 time she stopped crying and simply lay in his arms as 
 weak as if she had had a long illness, while he held her 
 tenderly, trying to disguise his anxiety. 
 
 "Madge," he said at last gently, " what was it, dear? 
 Do you feel so ill ? " 
 
 " Oh, no it was nothing," she whispered. " I think 
 it did me good. I have been feeling like a breakdown 
 for some days. I 'ra sorry, Lanse, don't worry."
 
 374 The Story of Eden 
 
 " I 'm not worrying, only I can't bear to see you so. 
 Would you like Blanche Mrs. Cunningham to come 
 over and stay for a day or so ? I 'm sure she would." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " She smiled a little, and put her hand up 
 to his face with a little caress. " I am quite content 
 with you ! I am only only rather run down." 
 
 " I shall get you a glass of wine," Lanse said de- 
 cidedly, laying her back carefully on the pillows. He 
 found a relief in the practical suggestion, and it seemed 
 to dispel the discomfort of his wife's intangible ailment. 
 " I don't believe that doctor prescribes for you properly 
 what you want is port wine and feeding up." 
 
 " All right you take the case in hand. I should 
 like the wine," Madge said languidly, and while he went 
 to fetch it, she pulled herself together and wiped her 
 eyes and smoothed her ruffled hair. When Lanse re- 
 turned she was already better, and her colour returned 
 a little after the stimulant. Lanse sat on the edge of 
 the sofa while she drank it, gazing at her in his unwaver- 
 ing fashion with his curious coloured eyes. 
 
 "I say, Madge," he said. "I shall have to take you 
 Home if you go on like this." 
 
 " I don't mean to go on like this, though. Here 's 
 my own health ! " She laughed faintly, and swallowed 
 the wine. 
 
 "Well, but would you like to go sooner than I 
 meant?" 
 
 " Yes, I should like it," said Madge, slowly ; but her 
 tone was not so heartfelt as it would have been earlier 
 in the day before the causes of her fear were removed. 
 " But you really need n't hurry on my account. Lanse. 
 I shall be all right. If it were n't for this War business, 
 I could go Up Country and be braced up." 
 
 He shook his head. " There will be no going Up 
 Country for holiday trips at present," he said. " It 's 
 going to be a big thing, Madge, only don't repeat 
 what I tell you. It won't do any good, and it might do
 
 The Story of Eden 375 
 
 harm. The whole of South Africa will be like a volcano 
 in a very short time." 
 
 "Then you must n't go Home," said Madge, decidedly. 
 "You '11 want to stay and look after things, won't you?" 
 
 " I should like to stay and have a brush at them with 
 the irregulars ! " She gave a slight cry, and sat up 
 quivering. 
 
 " Oh, Lanse I you would n't would you ? " 
 
 " No, I shall take you Home. You are not fit to be 
 left at present," he added inwardly, but the reservation 
 of his tone passed her by. He was making a greater 
 self-sacrifice than she could understand, even if she had 
 realised how keen a temptation it would be to him to 
 volunteer. Lanse had thrown himself, with charac- 
 teristic intensity, into the question of the Outlander's 
 rights, and had identified himself with the interests of 
 his adopted country so that the coming struggle was of 
 vital importance to him. He felt his own going Home 
 almost as a desertion, and had gone through a mental 
 struggle before he decided that he was responsible for 
 his wife before more public claims upon him, and that 
 though it touched his honour to turn his back without 
 striking a blow for British interests, he must take Madge 
 back to England first, and then if she were stronger 
 well, he might get a chance after all ! Once he had 
 made up his mind~to a thing, he did not discourse on it, 
 not only because he was a secretive animal by nature, 
 but because to decide meant with him to do, and dis- 
 cussion was superfluous. Therefore Madge, naturally 
 enough, did not gauge the reluctance beneath his sug- 
 gestion when he said, " I can get things into shape, and 
 leave by October or November. How would that suit 
 you?" 
 
 " Perfectly," she returned. " Only I shall hate leav- 
 ing the house so soon after we've got it just to our 
 liking ! " 
 
 " We '11 let it furnished. I sha'n't sell, after the usual
 
 376 The Story of Eden 
 
 fashion. We can come back again when things are 
 more settled," he said grimly, with a close shutting of 
 his lips. 
 
 " And it may not come to anything," said Madge, 
 hopefully. " Major Yeats was talking about our making 
 an armed demonstration the other day. Perhaps that 
 will bring them to reason, Lanse, when you shut your 
 lips like that you might be Fate, or the Sphinx, or some- 
 thing equally wise and implacable ! You evidently don't 
 agree with my optimistic views. What a good chin you 
 have, by the way ! " 
 
 He smiled, being perfectly aware of his own good 
 points. As he sat facing her on the edge of her couch, 
 Madge looked at him with some pride. The greens and 
 greys of his eyes, which were even hazel in some lights, 
 the invincible line of brow and jaw, even the little 
 trick of thrusting out his chin, and a way he had of 
 closing his ringers firmly on anything he touched, struck 
 her as distinguished peculiarities contrasted with other 
 men's more uniform good looks. " Lanse could never 
 be lost in a crowd," she thought, and then with the old 
 fear, " How much I have grown to care for him ! 
 Supposing I had lost him ! for sometimes I hold my 
 breath with the fear that he would never forgive me. 
 He is not very merciful, and if he had found out 
 But I won't think of that now, for I needn't." 
 
 The strain of many months was not to be recovered 
 from in as many hours, but Madge was healthy, and 
 possessed of wonderful recuperative power, once her 
 mind was at ease, and she really looked much better in 
 a day or so. Lanse said it was his prescriptions, and 
 took much credit to himself for his doctoring and the 
 wine and beef tea which Madge meekly swallowed by 
 his orders. 
 
 The trial of the next few days was the series of fare- 
 well visits from the Duke's which poured in upon her, 
 and which she had serious thoughts of inviting Blanche
 
 The Story of Eden 377 
 
 to come and share, for she did not relish the idea of 
 tete-a-tete partings with some of her friends. More 
 especially had she a dread of meeting True, and of his 
 speaking plainly again in the stress of a last interview. 
 Since that day of his race from Simon's Town to warn 
 her and send her home, she had contrived never to see 
 him alone. She felt, in the shrinking of her overwrought 
 nerves, that she could not. It had been as True had 
 feared, for she had never since that day been the same 
 to him, though her manner showed no outward altera- 
 tion in other people's presence. But he knew it, and he 
 knew also that nothing harder than this could be asked 
 of him in his struggle to help her. Lanse was with her, 
 as it happened, when Truman came to say good-bye ; it 
 was a difficult visit, and for once his cheery talk and 
 smile failed him. He stood silent, at the very last, with 
 his big eyes so dark and strained that Madge felt an 
 agonized dread of looking at him, for fear they should 
 be wet. 
 
 " Good-bye, True," she said, as he was leaving. " I 
 hope you will come back quite safe, and win the Cross ! 
 Don't quite forget me." 
 
 Her voice softened, as if she asked his pardon. The 
 hand that held hers tightened it was the only assur- 
 ance he could give of his loyalty. 
 
 " Good-bye, Lady," he said. "I hope you will soon 
 get quite strong and well again ! " 
 
 Then he went. Lanse accompanied him to the door, 
 and shook hands heartily, for he had liked True with the 
 instinct of one honest man for another. " Good luck, 
 old fellow ! " he said. " Sure you won't have a peg 
 before you go?" Lanse's demonstrations of good fel- 
 lowship were invariably material, and very masculine. 
 
 " No thanks. I 've got other calls to make ! " 
 
 " True 's as decent a fellow as I ever met,'' Lanse re- 
 marked, as he re-entered the drawing-room. " I 'm 
 awfully sorry he 's going. Soldier's fortune though, of
 
 378 The Story of Eden 
 
 course, and the best thing for him," he added almost 
 enviously. 
 
 " Yes," said Madge, with a little gasp. " I hope I 
 sha'n't have to say good-bye to many men I like, 
 knowing that they may be killed ! I shall certainly ask 
 Blanche to come over and support me until they are 
 gone ! " 
 
 Blanche was perfectly willing to come on application, 
 and drove over regularly for the next three afternoons 
 before the Duke's departure, without asking leave of her 
 husband or taking the least notice of his unsweetened 
 remarks. He liked some one at hand to pour out his 
 tea for him, which, as his wife explained, he could per- 
 fectly well do for himself upon occasion. Blanche was 
 the right woman to cope with an inherent bully, and the 
 Professor was very much married, as he found to his 
 own impotent disgust. The shouting policy proved in- 
 effective, save that it certainly drove his wife out of the 
 room and left him to swear at space. Blanche had gauged 
 Anthony Cunningham, and she knew where her power 
 lay. When he grumbled or stormed, she used to lie 
 back in an easy-chair and cross her knees with an inim- 
 itable flutter of frills, and a display of coloured ankles 
 more expressive than any words. Every inch of lace 
 beneath her skirts devoted the Professor to the devil, 
 and her shapely movements suggested threats he had 
 learned to understand. She did not care two straws for 
 his ravings ; but he had come to care very much that 
 his bullying career had ended in a woman having the 
 whip hand of him. Blanche was avenging her sex, both 
 black and white. 
 
 " How 's Anthony ? " Madge said when her sister-in- 
 law first appeared in answer to her invitation. " I was 
 afraid he might prevent your coming." She spoke with 
 intentional malice, to enjoy the answer. Blanche 's bear- 
 taming never lost its charm for her on Account of old 
 scores.
 
 The Story of Eden 379 
 
 "Were you?" said Mrs. Cunningham, raising her 
 eyebrows. " He was n't." 
 
 "Did he say anything?" asked Madge. Mrs. Cun- 
 ningham's reports of former conversations had had a 
 rich flavour for all their terseness. 
 
 " Well, no, I did n't mention the subject, so he has 
 not as yet said anything. When he does it will be time 
 enough to think of an explanation ! " 
 
 Margery chuckled. Whether or no the Professor pro- 
 tested, Blanche drove over each day and stayed until 
 dinner-time, returning to Vine Lodge for that meal, 
 spiced with a renewal of hostilities from the Professor. 
 It disturbed her not at all ; in fact she had no objection 
 to such spicing, for it relieved the tameness of the tete- 
 a-tete, and gave her a display of power, and practice in 
 keeping the upper hand. With her assistance, Madge 
 got over farewell visits from Forrester and Ransom, 
 Henderson, Wright, Tennyson, and a score of others. 
 The two whose final appearance had stood out in her 
 imagination beforehand V. C. and Mowbray did 
 not appear until the last day before the Regiment's de- 
 parture. Then the one over-lapped the other, and as 
 Mowbray was still present when Cayley appeared, Mar- 
 gery saw that she was caught in a trap. Blanche could 
 only talk to one, and the other would be free to say 
 more than the conventional adieu to her, if he chose. 
 The other happened to be Mowbray, and he did choose. 
 He came straight to his object, after the manner of a 
 boy. and crossing the room sat down by Margery's side 
 the instant that Blanche began to talk to Cayley. 
 
 " Madge," he said, and the tone was dangerously full 
 of feeling, " I want to ask a favour of you." 
 
 "Well, Miles?" 
 
 " Will you give me a photograph ? I know it 's in- 
 fernal cheek, but but there 's always the chance that 
 I may n't see you again, you know." 
 
 " Don't ! " she said with a sudden sharp pain in her
 
 380 The Story of Eden 
 
 voice. It was not so much for him, individually, as for 
 the momentary realisation of the grim reality of this 
 leave-taking. It seemed almost impossible that these 
 commonplace, ordinary young men who had been mak- 
 ing hurried calls on her during the last few days, during 
 which they sat and talked as usual, if with a trifle 
 more forced lightness, among the pretty everyday sur- 
 roundings of her home, could be transformed into pos- 
 sible heroes, with more than a probability of death but a 
 few short months away from them. Once more the 
 sunlight mocked the serious side of life, as it danced 
 among the flowers and about the pretty, dainty room 
 where she had so often entertained them. . . . 
 
 Mowbray looked at her in silence for a minute, all 
 his boyish soul in his young blue eyes. Neither curly 
 hair or colourless skin, nor a certain comic appearance 
 which had gained him a soubriquet of " Toby " in the 
 Duke's, could do away with the dignity of his very real 
 feeling. Because he was in earnest, he was a man with 
 a man's value. 
 
 "I wanted to see you alone," he said. "I had so 
 much to say ! I never expected to find your sister-in- 
 law here." 
 
 " I think it was better not," she said gently. 
 
 He did not answer, but went on looking at her in the 
 same concentrated way, as if he could not look his full, 
 until he left. Margery glanced helplessly at Blanche. 
 She did not like to go and let him out herself, for fear 
 he should break down ; but there was a troubled, pitiful 
 look in her eyes as she gave him her hand. He 
 gripped it until the rings cut into the flesh, quite uncon- 
 scious of the nervous strength of his own clasp. 
 
 " Good-bye God bless you ! " he said huskily under 
 his breath. 
 
 "Good-bye, Miles," she returned, her own voice a 
 little unsteady. " I will send you the photo." 
 
 Mrs. Cunningham good-naturedly came to the rescue.
 
 The Story of Eden 381 
 
 Instead of ringing the bell for the servant, she went to 
 the front door with him herself. " He was awfully 
 upset," she said to Madge afterwards. " And we did n't 
 want that black girl staring her eyes out at him. I 
 waited some minutes while he recovered himself." 
 
 " He is so young ! " Madge said pitifully. 
 
 " I know. He 's very much in love with you and 
 very miserable. A big fight will be the best thing pos- 
 sible for him. I told him so, while we stood at the front 
 door, and I pretended that I had n't seen his eyes." 
 
 Margery had cause to know that Blanche was some 
 minutes gone from the room. As soon as the door had 
 closed behind them, Cayley came over and stood by 
 the mantelpiece, with his arm resting on it, looking 
 down at her. 
 
 " It is so dreadful ! " she said involuntarily. " I can't 
 bear to think of you all going away ! " 
 
 " Can't you ? It 's the best thing that could happen 
 to some of us, " ne said wearily. 
 
 " Are you glad to go?" 
 
 " Very." 
 
 She thought of his untidy, degraded home life, and 
 her eyes were wetter than they had been for Mowbray. 
 
 " I never realised until to-day that you might be 
 killed," she said with a little shudder. 
 
 " So much the better," he said in his most cynical 
 voice. He was pulling at the brown moustache which 
 hid the lines round his mouth with strong, restless 
 fingers. It was a little trick she knew well. 
 
 " I suppose I can't do anything for you ? " she said 
 vaguely, with an impulse of indefinite pain. 
 
 " I can't think of anything you could do," he returned 
 in a curious tone. She looked up, and their eyes met. 
 Margery sprang to her feet suddenly, as if the tension of 
 the moment were too great. 
 
 " Oh, please don't ! " she said, almost crying. " Please 
 don't 1 "
 
 382 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Do you know what I am regretting?" he said 
 fiercely. " It is that we have n't been anything to each 
 other. You have n't wanted me. You have left me out 
 in the cold. Oh, I know you never cared much for me 
 but you might at least have pretended that you did. 
 You have done so for scores of others." 
 
 " I thought you were too good to flirt with ! I always 
 liked talking to you," she said with a directness which 
 surprised herself. 
 
 " Did you ? " he said. " But I never knew it." 
 
 " I can't help that. I showed you as plainly as 1 
 could." 
 
 " I am ungrateful," he said. " You have always been 
 very good to me." 
 
 Blanche's footstep came back along the hall. 
 
 "I liked you," said Madge, simply. 
 
 "Yes," he said, with his tired little laugh. "That 
 was just it and explains it nicely. You liked me !" 
 
 The old feeling that she had missed this man among 
 other and more harmful interests in her life, came back 
 upon her with a sense of loss. They might at least 
 have been friends. It almost seemed as if they might 
 have helped each other. 
 
 "The worst of such mistakes is that other people 
 suffer for them too," she mused aloud. " It is too late 
 now." 
 
 " Yes," he agreed, " it is too late now ! " 
 
 As Blanche opened the door, V. C. was shaking hands 
 with Madge, and saying good-bye. " We are off to- 
 morrow about eleven," he said. " Stick a Union Jack 
 over your front gate, and wish us good luck, Mrs. 
 Crofton." 
 
 " I will come down to the Station and see you pass 
 through," Madge began. " No," she added, " I think I 
 won't. Good-bye." 
 
 She had dropped her handkerchief as she rose. It 
 lay at their feet, a little white morsel smelling of violets,
 
 The Story of Eden 383 
 
 soft, lace-edged, infinitely feminine and delicate. For a 
 moment he hesitated as if he were going to pick it up ; 
 then he turned away without a second look, and went. 
 She understood that he would not have returned it to 
 her, had he stooped for it ; that was why he left it lying 
 where it was. 
 
 " What a dreadful day ! " Margery said when all her 
 visitors, even Blanche, had gone. "I am really glad 
 that they are leaving to-morrow. I could not have 
 said good-bye to anyone else." 
 
 At dinner Lanse asked her who had called, and she 
 told him. 
 
 " I was glad Blanche was here," she said, trying to 
 speak lightly. " We were all very emotional. She was 
 the saving element of sense." 
 
 " She is always woman of the world enough to be 
 practical," said Lanse, dryly. " And her sense of 
 humour is a thing to be dreaded. A woman of that 
 sort is far less sentimental than the strongest man. 
 These patties are awfully good, Madge. Have another?" 
 
 " No, thank you. I will feed up in moderation, but 
 my appetite is not yet equal to your demands upon it" 
 
 " Have some more pontac then ? I wish you would 
 drink port, though. It is much better for you. What is 
 it, Mary?" 
 
 The Kaffir girl was standing at his elbow, hesitating 
 evidently with something to say. 
 
 " Please, sir, there 's a big fire, over at Newlands, they 
 think," she said. 
 
 " By Jove ! a bush fire, is there ? If this wind holds 
 it will spread, I 'm afraid." 
 
 " Let 's go out and see if we can see it, Lanse," said 
 Margery. " I 've quite done." 
 
 " Finish your wine then. I 'm not going to let you 
 off your medicine ! And wrap up, dear. It 's chilly ! " 
 
 He caught up a long fur-trimmed wrap as they passed 
 through the hall, and threw it over her shoulders.
 
 384 The Story of Eden 
 
 There was no doubt about the extent of the fire; as 
 they stepped out onto the stoep at the back of the 
 house, Margery exclaimed. The whole country side 
 was alight with a rosy glow, the bare fields and leafless 
 trees looking black and mysterious, as if they were 
 strange things suddenly revealed. Behind the long 
 mountain line was a glare of intense light, every now 
 and then a colossal tongue of flame leaping into actual 
 existence, and displaying the volumes of smoke which 
 were rolling along the crest before the wind. 
 
 " It is n't Newlands," said Lanse, with interest. " It 's 
 right behind the mountain. By Jove ! I hope Groote 
 Schuur won't suffer ! " 
 
 " Poor Mr. Rhodes ! Another fire ! no, I hope it 
 won't. They can't get any water up there, Lanse. I 
 wonder what caused it." 
 
 " Some fool of a Kaffir smoking. The bush has been 
 dry enough to catch from the merest spark for the past 
 week or so. They '11 have to turn out the Rutlandshire, 
 and tramp it out. If the wind shifts, it will threaten the 
 Camp." 
 
 " How beautiful it is ! " said Madge, as a great sheet 
 of flame was tossed along the ridge, and hill and valley 
 glowed out in black and rose colour in the momentary 
 illumination. "Hark! there's some one riding along 
 the road." 
 
 " Going to see if they can get near it," said Lanse, his 
 tone crisp with excitement. " There 's the bugle ! I 
 said they would turn the Regiment out." 
 
 " How faint it sounds from here! " said Madge, half 
 under her breath. She thought of the clearness of the 
 call from Vine Lodge ; they could hear it plainly there, 
 she knew. The Rosary was further off. 
 
 " I 've a great mind to have the Kaisir saddled and 
 ride up there," said Lanse, with some indecision. 
 
 " Do ! " said Margery, knowing that he wanted to go, 
 and was hesitating for her. " I don't mind being left a
 
 The Story of Eden 385 
 
 bit, and I want to know all about it. I can watch it 
 from here." 
 
 " Don't catch cold then ! " he said, as he ran down 
 the steps and towards the stable. " Go in if you feel 
 chilly, and have some more wine." 
 
 Margery laughed. A few minutes later she heard the 
 horse's impatient hoofs on the gravel, and Lanse called 
 to her as he passed, " Henry says it 's spreading to 
 Bishop's Court. But I shall go up to the Hen and 
 Chickens first." 
 
 " It sounds like a public house ! " said Madge, whimsi- 
 cally, to herself. " Who would guess that it was only 
 three great stones. I wonder how those huge boulders 
 got so far up the mountain-side, by the way." 
 
 She went into the house to see that the servants had 
 cleared the table, and not congregated at the kitchen 
 door to watch the fire, and then after a while returned 
 to her vantage point on the stoep. The fire still burned 
 steadily, the rolling, flame-dyed smoke sweeping fitfully 
 over the hill, threatening the Camp if the fire once 
 got a grip of the intervening wooded slopes, and the 
 flames leapt merrily up to the black vault of sky. A 
 watery moon was feebly disputing the lighting of the 
 night with the fire, and flickered in and out among the 
 leafless trees, with the scud of the flying clouds across 
 her face. The wind still blew gustily, fanning the blaze. 
 It was a large bush fire, and would prove terribly de- 
 structive before the soldiers could tramp it under. 
 Margery watched it with admiration largely tempered by 
 regret ; she knew all the country which it was reducing 
 to charred ugliness, and she was sorry to think of the 
 great oaks and firs of Bishop's Court falling victims, for 
 it had been one of her favourite rides. Lanse had been 
 gone some twenty minutes when she heard the sound of 
 hoofs again, and was wondering what brought him back 
 so soon, when she realised that they had stopped in 
 front of the house. It was not Lanse, but whoever it 
 25
 
 3 86 The Story of Eden 
 
 was had evidently handed over his mount to one of the 
 grooms, and was coming along the stoep round the 
 corner of the house towards her. 
 
 She clenched her hands suddenly and tightly with 
 spasmodic recognition of the step, even as a big figure 
 came in sight, and her retreat was cut off. 
 
 " Why do you come to-night to-night 
 So many miles of wind and rain ? " 
 
 Was there a wailing human voice in the wind that the 
 words rang so distinctly in her ears ? And was this not 
 Lovelace incarnate in debonair beauty and reckless pur- 
 suit of an old love, denied him long since? 
 
 " Colonel Vibart," she said with sudden composure, 
 holding out her hand. " How do you do ? I was 
 watching the fire." 
 
 " I have been up there," he said in the easy musical 
 voice she knew so well. " I was dining with the Rut- 
 landshire, and when they turned out I went up also." 
 
 " Are they getting it under ? " 
 
 " As far as possible. I am afraid it will do a good 
 deal of damage. I met your husband up there," he 
 said abruptly. 
 
 So he knew that Lanse was out and he had ridden 
 down at once. Was that why ? 
 
 " ' Why do you come to-night to-night ? 
 
 It might mean death to both of us I ' 
 1 Oh, but I come with much delight 
 All things I love are dangerous I ' " 
 
 She instinctively drew back, and his next words con- 
 firmed her fear. 
 
 " I came because I wanted to see you alone," he said 
 gravely. " I would not call, because I knew I should 
 find half a dozen people here too. Rather than say 
 good-bye like that, I would not have said it at all." 
 
 She did not answer. The strain of the afternoon 
 had softened her, and that word " good-bye " echoed
 
 The Story of Eden 387 
 
 piteously in her mind. Her mood was, for the moment, 
 more assailable than Vibart had ever found it since his 
 return than he would probably ever have found it 
 again. 
 
 " Margery," he began gently, but his voice deepened 
 to passion as he went on, " after everything that has 
 been between us I must refer to it, though I know 
 you would rather not I find I can't go quite away, 
 with the chance of death before me, without saying 
 good-bye to the woman I have loved best in the world ! " 
 
 She looked up with a shiver as he spoke of that 
 chance of death, already brought so near to her un- 
 derstanding to-day. He had thrown back the heavy 
 military overcoat he wore, and his big figure in its hand- 
 some uniform seemed a startling contrast to the pos- 
 sibility of which he spoke. He was so splendid, the 
 old physical admiration of him, quite apart from any 
 personal attraction, impressed Margery anew as she 
 gazed up at his agitated face, from which all the debo- 
 nair carelessness seemed to have flown in his unusual 
 earnestness. Jack dead ! She could not realise it. 
 All this animal beauty and frank vitality, whose very 
 vices were the outcome of a too exuberant nature, 
 shot down, as it well might be, like any lesser man! 
 She stared at him in wordless denial. He could not 
 be killed ! But there was the chance of it, as to any 
 other soldier, and the thought disarmed her as no other 
 appeal could have done. 
 
 " Madge, won't you be kind to me just this once ?" 
 he whispered, stretching out his arms. The red glow of 
 the fire warmed both their faces and figures as if with 
 the reflection of that long-dead passion. 
 
 She made a forward movement, still without speak- 
 ing, and he took her in his arms. " Because this is 
 good-bye, Jack ! " she said, and their lips met. 
 
 " My darling, I never thought I should hold you 
 close to my heart again," he said brokenly. She did
 
 388 The Story of Eden 
 
 not know what to say. She felt helpless under his ten- 
 derness, for she had nothing to give him back, and yet 
 she was so sorry that her heart ached as it had not done 
 when they parted before. 
 
 "Jack dear, please don't talk about being killed," 
 she said with childish nervousness. " I can't bear to 
 imagine it. I hope you will come back all right, and 
 win great honour and glory." It sounded a trite little 
 speech, but she struggled to express the best she could 
 wish for him. She was folded in the circle of his arm, 
 leaning against his broad chest as she had leaned so 
 many times before, half wrapped in his overcoat. Her 
 hand played mechanically with the lappet of his mess- 
 jacket, and she felt the silver Greyhound under her fin- 
 gers. " I am going Home very soon, you know. If it 
 should happen that our lives are so divided that we 
 never meet again, will you remember that I wished 
 you nothing but good ? " 
 
 "You have given me nothing but good!" he said 
 generously. " I wish you could have loved me a little 
 longer, Madge ! " Perhaps he thought, even then, that 
 this was only a preface to a new phase, and that in 
 the future he might win her back to him. Husbands 
 and wives always drifted apart after a while, and then 
 another love intervened. He had not allowed Madge 
 time enough on his first return, but the re-action would 
 come. It was his creed. 
 
 " I want to leave my ring with you, darling," he said, 
 slipping the signet off his finger into her hand. " Take 
 care of it for me, won't you ? One does n't want to take 
 anything one values to the front." 
 
 " Oh, Jack, I would rather not ! And I have a book 
 of yours I meant to give you back those verses. It 
 has your name in it, and I have never known what to 
 do with it." 
 
 " Lock them both up," he said carelessly. " Good' 
 bye, once more, my love ! "
 
 The Story of Eden 389 
 
 As he strained her to him she looked past him and 
 saw the country-side alight with the red glare. She re- 
 membered with a shock that she had once called it the 
 Garden of Eden ; and now she seemed to see Paradise 
 alight with fire from the mouth of Hell. While it still 
 dazzled her, his nearing face shut it out from her eyes, 
 and he kissed her, . . . then his retreating foot rang 
 along the stoep, she heard him speak to the groom as 
 he took his horse, the hoof-beats died out into the night. 
 
 Farther, farther yet, the last faint echo falling on 
 her sharpened senses ; it was as if she actually heard 
 this man passing out of her life. Throughout he had 
 come and gone like a thief in the night, coming when 
 the birds sang in Eden and the green morning was all 
 sun and dew ; going when the land glowed with blood- 
 red light, the same land that she had known by innocent 
 day. To her fancy, the red sullen glare behind the 
 mountains was the ominous light of the War, and Vibart 
 rode away into the heart of it.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 " A new Eden-gate 
 Shall open on a hinge of harmony 
 And let you through to mercy. Ye shall fatt 
 No more, within that Eden, nor pass out 
 Any more from it. In which hope move on, 
 
 Live and love, 
 
 Doing both nobly, because low lily." 
 
 TRUMAN divided his dogs as legacies among his friends, 
 four of the five remaining at Wynberg when their master 
 departed for the Border, and rendering night hideous 
 with their howling for a whole week before they settled 
 down, and became resigned for the time being. True 
 had been Up Country to shoot, before, and had returned. 
 The dogs maintained their air of being but on a visit to 
 their new owners, and declined to commit themselves 
 further. Mrs. Drysdale, in the largeness of her heart, 
 had taken two Miss Anderson and Wags. The Irish 
 terrier was the more easily consoled, by reason of the 
 society of Eric and Jan, and devoted himself to them 
 and to their toys forthwith. Miss Anderson, the colley, 
 did not care for little boys. She took to Ossy, and 
 whenever he was at home sat close to his side, with 
 pathetic eyes fixed on his face, until their appeal drew 
 from him the comfort of sweet biscuits. They were very 
 bad for her teeth, and hardly adequate to True ; but she 
 seemed to feel her loss less while she munched. Ossy 
 and Clarice stifled their consciences therefor, and placed 
 the biscuit tin at her disposal. 
 
 The Retriever found a home at Simon's Town, and 
 exchanged the Army for the Navy, whereby his inclina- 
 tions towards water were fostered, and his aquatic per-
 
 The Story of Eden 391 
 
 formances were the pride of three gun -boats and the 
 little Club wherein all men gather, and of which he was 
 made an honorary member. 
 
 The wire-haired Mongrel went, by special bequest, to 
 Starling. 
 
 The fifth dog was the Japanese animal before men- 
 tioned, and was so ugly that True decided to take him 
 with him at all risks. For he had no personal attrac- 
 tions which should recommend him to strangers ; his 
 worth lay in his heart, and that was so entirely his 
 master's that it threatened to break if they were parted. 
 The poor little fellow divined, with more than human 
 quickness, that something unusual was in the air, and, 
 unlike his canine companions, followed True about rest- 
 lessly, superintending his packing, and twice curling 
 himself up in a portmanteau and being very nearly 
 strapped up and stifled, in the hurry. After that True 
 decided to smuggle him through somehow, and he went. 
 I believe he was in Kimberley throughout the Siege, and 
 by a miracle escaped contributing to the sausages which 
 proved so sustaining to the troops. He came out of the 
 siege very thin and scraggy, it is reported, having de- 
 veloped an undying admiration for Mr. Rhodes. If he 
 survives, he will probably be interviewed on his return 
 to England, and would make the fortune of a Music-Hall 
 Proprietor. But he will not be exhibited. This is 
 strictly unofficial, and a digression. 
 
 Starling was out when True personally conducted the 
 Mongrel to Friedenhof, and left him there. When she 
 came in, she found Mrs. Johnnie trying to sooth the dog, 
 with a line of anxiety between her brows, and timid 
 blandishment in her tone, of which he took no notice. 
 
 " Oh, Starling ! " she exclaimed with relief, as her 
 daughter appeared. " I am so sorry you have been 
 out ! True has brought Romar for you, and left him 
 here, and he is nearly wild. What are we to do with 
 him ? He tries to get out and go back to Camp, and
 
 392 The Story of Eden 
 
 he will do nothing but run under that chair and growl 
 when I speak to him ! " 
 
 " I '11 show you," said Starling, quietly. " He '11 settle 
 down after a time. Romar ! " 
 
 The Mongrel advanced slowly, his tail wagging faintly. 
 He knew Starling, and besides he recognised the tone 
 of authority in her voice. 
 
 11 Come here, little fellow ! " she said kindly. Romar 
 sat down at her feet and looked at her. " Your master 
 has gone away," said Starling. Romar's eyes were more 
 terrible to meet than a human being's would have 
 been. " You Ve got to stay behind, old boy. We 're 
 all in the same boat ! " added Starling, inconsequently. 
 " We 've got to wait, Romar ! " 
 
 Romar understood that word. When Starling rose 
 and whistled to him, he came to heel and followed her. 
 He seemed to have acknowledged her as temporary 
 mistress, until he could make other arrangements. 
 
 " He '11 be all right," said Starling, reassuringly. " Did 
 True come to say good-bye ? " 
 
 "I don't know," said Mrs. Johnnie, her kind eyes 
 filling with tears. " As you and your father were out, I 
 suppose he thought he could n't. Anyhow he said he 
 would come in to-night. I can't bear parting with him, 
 Starling ! It is like losing my own son ! " said the 
 warm-hearted woman. 
 
 Starling drew up her throat with the little bird motion 
 peculiar to her. She did n't say anything. As she left 
 the room, however, she spoke over her shoulder after her 
 usual fashion. " I 'm going to my den, Mother. Come 
 along, Romar ! " 
 
 Mrs. Johnnie wiped her eyes, and looked after her 
 thoughtfully. " What a good thing it is that there is no 
 sort of nonsense, or any tie between her and True ! " 
 she said somewhat vaguely. " She would feel it so 
 now ! " But she sighed half anxiously, and half regret- 
 fully. Mrs. Johnnie was hopelessly unworldly.
 
 The Story of Eden 393 
 
 As they crossed the hall, Romar half paused, with a 
 wistful look at the open hall door. " It 's no use, 
 Romar," Starling said, as quietly as if she were speaking 
 to a rational being. " They go to-morrow and we 're 
 to be left behind," she added to herself. 
 
 All that afternoon her own words rang in her ears, 
 " They go to-morrow." Go, without any tie between 
 her and anybody. But then she was a rich man's 
 only daughter, and the Duke's were a proverbially poor 
 regiment. If anybody, one of the Subalterns say, had 
 been bold enough to ask Starling to marry him, would 
 not he have run the risk of being dubbed fortune- 
 hunter? Why, even a Captain might well hesitate to 
 put himself in such a false position, however disinter- 
 ested he might really be, supposing that he were not a 
 very brilliant match. Starling could quite appreciate 
 any honest man's reluctance to offer her comparatively 
 nothing particularly on the eve of War, with such an 
 uncertain future before him. Nevertheless she chafed 
 against an untoward fate. 
 
 " It 's such nonsense it 's a chimera between us. 
 And yet, if I were he, I should n't speak. And a girl 
 can't. But I feel so sure that I could I could al- 
 most do it myself ! " 
 
 There had been passages in the last few weeks so far 
 justifying her that there was really no occasion to flush 
 as she did at the brazenness of her own suggestion. 
 There was no one to see her, however not even 
 Romar, who was consoling his grief with a bone in the 
 stables. 
 
 The day wore on in restlessness. Starling had ex- 
 pected that True would come to dinner ; but he did 
 not appear, the truth being that he, like his Colonel, 
 was invited to the Rutlandshires. Starling, conscious 
 that the frock she was wearing it was black, and made 
 her neck and arms the whiter by contrast had been 
 selected with a purpose, was naturally very angry with
 
 394 The Story of Eden 
 
 herself. She was particularly bright and merry during 
 the meal, and kept up quite a flow of conversation with 
 her father. Mrs. Johnnie wiped her eyes in a surrep- 
 titious manner at intervals, as she had been doing all 
 day. In the wideness of her heart she was experiencing 
 the anxiety of all those mothers far away in England 
 whose sons were leaving for the Border on the morrow, 
 and fussing over them in her tender fancy. " Such nice 
 boys, most of them ! " she thought. " And we 've known 
 them all so well! Oh, God grant there will be no fight- 
 ing, and no desolate homes in consequence ! I won- 
 der if I could have done anything more for poor Miles 
 Mowbray, or the Henderson boy, or Mr. Forrester ! 
 Ten to one half their socks need looking to, and the 
 unmarried ones have to trust to soldier servants. I can 
 darn and mend and see to clothes, if I 'm good for 
 nothing else. And young men are so careless ! " Mrs. 
 Johnnie had a humble opinion of her own accomplish- 
 ments and intellectual powers ; but she knew her heart 
 was large enough to mother all the stray sons who came 
 in her way. 
 
 The departing Regiment was so much in her mind as 
 to make her unusually abstracted, which in her sim- 
 plicity she thought escaped notice as much as her quiet 
 tears. It did escape her husband's, because Starling 
 talked partly to cover it, knowing quite well all that was 
 passing in her mother's mind. 
 
 " Did you say True was coming in to say good-bye, 
 my dear?" said Mr. Johnnie, at the end of dinner. 
 " It 's getting rather late for him. I hope he won't fail 
 to turn up I should be really sore about it, if True 
 did n't come to say good-bye. He 's been like one of 
 the family ! " 
 
 " I am sure he will come, dear," replied Mrs. Johnnie, 
 in a rather tremulous tone. " He said he should turn 
 up to-night for certain, when he brought Romar." 
 
 " Yes, but if those scamps at Camp get hold of him
 
 The Story of Eden 395 
 
 and make a farewell night of it, they '11 make him drunk 
 between them," said Mr. Johnnie, laughing. " I know 
 what these special occasions are ! " 
 
 " Never mind, Dad. If True is too too overcome 
 to drop in this evening, you can go to the Station to- 
 morrow and see them pass through. You will have time 
 to shake hands, I daresay," said Starling, consolingly. 
 No one noticed her rather curious tone. 
 
 " So I shall ! " said Mr. Johnnie, cheering up. " Well, 
 I, don't suppose he'll come to-night." He glanced at 
 the clock as he rose from the table. " They say there 's 
 a big bush fire, but I don't suppose we can see much of 
 it from here. It 's over the mountain. Will you come 
 out and look, Starling ? " 
 
 " No thanks, it 's too cold," said Starling carelessly. 
 " I am going to write some letters." As she departed 
 to her own domain, it flashed across her, as it had done 
 Lanse Crofton, that in the event of a big fire the Rut- 
 landshire would be called out to tramp it under. In 
 that case, their farewell night would be interfered with 
 in some sort. And what would become of their 
 guests? . . . 
 
 Starling walked round her " den " like a small lioness. 
 Mr. Johnnie's innocent suggestion of True being too 
 well entertained to care to come and say good-bye not 
 only jarred on her taste by its broad picture of him as 
 drinking too much wine, but was a humiliation in the 
 light of her wild thoughts of the afternoon. He did 
 not even care to come and say good-bye ! And she 
 had half thought of She paused before certain of her 
 possessions in turn, as she came upon them in her rest- 
 less walk, and stared at them blankly. Major Yeats' 
 assagai, for he also had contributed to Starling's col- 
 lection of trophies, was decorated with the toys and 
 ribbons of the last cotillion which she had led with 
 Captain Ransom. She gave a little sigh for the memo- 
 ries that came up as she looked at the pretty rubbish,
 
 396 The Story of Eden 
 
 memories inextricably mingled with the sound of 
 Madge's laughter, for she and Truman had been the 
 next couple behind them. Truman again always 
 Truman ! He had become so interwoven with her life 
 in Wynberg that to fancy it without him was an impos- 
 sibility. She almost wished that the breach between 
 them, caused by his defection to Madge during her ab- 
 sence in England, had never been bridged over. It 
 had all been satisfactorily explained and forgiven at the 
 Sapper's ball, and since then they had been more intimate 
 than ever. But it only made things worse now, and 
 perhaps worse still in the future, when he should be gone 
 but a host of little things would remain to keep him in 
 memory. There was the little regimental badge that he 
 had given her the silver Greyhound of the Duke's ; 
 among the whips and stick in her rack was an oak sapling 
 which she used more than any of them that was also his 
 gift. He had never falsified the position by sending her 
 a present whose value would have made her hesitate to 
 accept it ; they were all such simple little gifts that she 
 had taken them with unthinking pleasure, and they all 
 carried an individual remembrance. She need not part 
 with any of them, but she did not dare to put them 
 away out of sight as relics, for fear any one should 
 notice their absence. They must always be there to 
 haunt her, her woman's fear of question outweighing 
 her very regret ; poor Starling ! she writhed as she 
 gazed round her and found a fresh pang on every hand. 
 And the cause of it all was making a farewell night of it 
 in Camp, and drinking too much wine by persuasion of 
 the Rutlandshire's hospitality, so that he had not come 
 to say good-bye ! Dad had been quite correct in his 
 judgment of a fellow brute, no doubt ; for men always 
 knew one another, and were all equally disgusting. . . . 
 
 " May I come in, please ? " 
 
 True stood smiling in the doorway, his quick step 
 having hardly made her start before he himself ap-
 
 The Story of Eden 397 
 
 peared. He had come down from Mess, and his uni- 
 form made a gay blot of colour against the dark walnut 
 of the den. He looked a handsome little fellow, square- 
 shouldered and alert, with the beautiful trained ease of 
 his profession in every movement. Starling's face al- 
 tered in the second in which she turned to greet him, 
 all the softness and bitter grief of a minute since hidden 
 by a quick laugh that showed her pretty teeth ; her neck 
 and arms gleamed white and firm against her dinner 
 gown, she looked self-possessed, unobtrusively conscious 
 of her own prettiness, while her brown eyes met his 
 with debonair candour. There was no hint of a shadow 
 between them ; they smiled gaily, man and maid, with 
 a parting before them that might last them all their 
 lives. 
 
 " Oh, I thought you were unable to tear yourself 
 away from the Rutlandshire !" said Starling, coolly. "I 
 am glad you have managed to turn up, True, Dad 
 was quite disappointed when he thought you weren't 
 coming." 
 
 " You knew I should n't go without saying good-bye ! 
 I put it off till the last moment on purpose," he said in 
 his quick, gentle voice, and his pretty smile was readier 
 than ever. He had never moved his eyes from her face 
 since he entered the room ; it embarrassed Starling a 
 little after the indignant accusations against him which 
 she had made in her own mind. As to the the other 
 thing, her courage was scattered to the four winds, and 
 she stood appalled before the mere vision of her half- 
 formed intention. Was it possible that only this after- 
 noon she had thought that she could that she would 
 
 " Have you seen Dad and Mother ? " she said guiltily, 
 shying away from her own thoughts. "There was a 
 bush fire, and they went out to look." 
 
 " I know. I found them all on the stoep, with Liv- 
 ingston and Drysdale. They told me you were in here, 
 so I came ! "
 
 398 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Livingston has turned up, has he? I 
 have n't seen him. Is it a bad fire ? " 
 
 "Pretty bad. The Rutlandshire have been turned 
 out, we had hardly finished dinner. I came straight 
 down then." 
 
 " It must have been rather a break up to their guest 
 night," said Starling. " Well, do sit down, as you have 
 come, and let 's have a chat, it is the last we shall 
 have for many a long day, I suppose. Do you sail hi 
 the Tyrant 1" 
 
 " Yes," said True. He paused in his usual fashion, 
 and then spoke with soft abruptness. " We go to- 
 morrow ! " 
 
 " Yes, I know," said Starling, vaguely, but it struck 
 her that she had not known, to realise it, until then. 
 She looked at True's smart figure and familiar face in 
 the arm-chair which had become known as his from his 
 constant occupation of it, and tried to impress it on 
 herself that to-morrow his place would be irrevo- 
 cably empty, and all the little customary jokes and 
 incidents between them would gradually fade into hazy 
 memory. 
 
 " I suppose there is no chance of you being ordered 
 back to Cape Town? " she said. " We must have some 
 troops left here ! " 
 
 " No, I don't think so. By the time the Rutland- 
 shire leave, there will be more out ; but I fancy those 
 regiments already in the country will be drafted to the 
 front first, and come in for the first potting, if War is 
 declared. I am afraid all the big fights will pass us 
 by!" 
 
 There came a little pause. Starling felt desperately 
 that had she not had that terrible intention this after- 
 noon she would have launched into regrets, and said 
 how sorry she was. It would have been infinitely the 
 best thing to do, if she could have done it naturally ; as 
 it was, she felt as if he were in danger of guessing the
 
 The Story of Eden 399 
 
 reason of her unresponsiveness, and yet she could not 
 speak further of his departure. 
 
 "Who was dining with the Rutlandshire as well as 
 you ? " she said at last. 
 
 " The Tracker, and Silence, and one or two more. 
 Silence is coming on here presently. We are all mak- 
 ing rather late calls, I am afraid ! " 
 
 Another pause. " Oh, this is dreadful ! " thought the 
 girl, divided between nervousness and misery. She had 
 never felt so much constraint with him before, except 
 on that night of the Sapper's ball, of which she had 
 spoken to Mrs. Drysdale. 
 
 " What a state of mind I should be in if I had really 
 decided to come to an understanding with him some- 
 how ! " she thought. " Thank Heaven, he does n't 
 even know that I half intended to and he never need 
 know. He will go to-morrow. ... I wonder how I shall 
 feel when he is gone, True gone ! . . . I can't bear 
 it!" 
 
 She jumped up without thinking of the strangeness of 
 her action, and began walking restlessly about the room 
 again. 
 
 " I can't imagine you quite out of this neighbourhood, 
 I have got so used to you," she said, and then added 
 recklessly, " I wish I were coming too ! " 
 
 " So do I ! " 
 
 ("Then why don't you ask me!" thought the girl.) 
 " I might go through to Durban, and see you again 
 there ! What fun it would be ! " she said aloud. 
 
 " It would be very nice ! " remarked True, rather ob- 
 viously, and checked himself in the middle of a sigh. 
 
 " I have a great mind to volunteer. I have passed 
 all my Ambulance exams, and Mrs. Reynolds is going 
 with her husband as far as Maritzburg on the strength of 
 that," said Starling. (" I am talking nonsense, but it 
 is only a means to an end. He won't do it, so I 
 must.") "Don't you think I could come?" She felt
 
 400 The Story of Eden 
 
 rather wild and light-headed, and was fingering the little 
 silver hound lying on the writing table as she spoke. 
 
 " You know you can't " 
 
 " Can't I ? Then I suppose I must be content with 
 writing to you. But letters might never reach you, and 
 then you would think I had n't written. . . . Do you 
 know, True, I found out something to-day " 
 
 He did not speak. Perhaps her words had surprised 
 him too much. Starling turned round and faced him 
 with desperate courage. He was still looking at her, 
 and she rushed into her next speech. 
 
 "I found out that I was very fond of you and 
 we Ve been such good friends that it does n't matter 
 my telling you, and if you don't, I mean if you only 
 like me a little please say so, and don't think you 
 must n't ! Only I thought it was a pity, and it 's for 
 all our lives perhaps, and we might drift apart and 
 supposing you were killed, we should have had nothing 
 
 and if you really cared, and you did n't like to say so 
 
 I wanted I meant " 
 
 If only his eyes had not been so very large and liquid ! 
 If only he would look away! Starling became more 
 and more involved as she went on, and at last her voice 
 dropped to a distressed pause, and her own eyes filled 
 with tears of shame and desperation. 
 
 "True, don't you understand?" she said almost an- 
 grily. " Can't you ask me to marry you ? Oh, if you 
 say you can't, I shall simply go away somewhere, much 
 further than the Border, and it does n't matter ! " 
 
 True had had no real chance to say a word ; but he 
 had listened with all his senses, and they were many. 
 He had understood the incoherent, stammering speech 
 perfectly well, long before the end, and much better 
 than Starling did herself; but he had not been able to 
 break in quick enough to help her. He got up from 
 his chair, however, and came towards her; he could 
 not interrupt the stumbling sentences, but he held out
 
 The Story of Eden 401 
 
 his arms, and Starling literally fell into them. Perhaps 
 at the moment he had nothing to say, for in flash he saw 
 before him a coming half hour in which Mr. Johnnie 
 sat on one chair and he on another in the wilderness of 
 the empty drawing-room, while he haltingly explained 
 his own beautiful lack of fortune and utter inadequacy 
 as a match for a rich man's only child. There were 
 debts, too, not many, thank Heaven ! but enough to 
 make him " comfortably embarrassed," as Forrester said. 
 True's feelings were sobered with the question of honour, 
 and his reputation as a gentleman if he took the advan- 
 tage thrust into his hands ; but he was hardly iron- 
 souled enough to resist the moment's happiness, and 
 not to show his appreciation of the white arms round his 
 neck by taking every opportunity that the position 
 offered him. Half blinded by her own tears, and the 
 suddenness of it all, Starling rested where she was for a 
 full minute, sixty long joyous seconds of which True 
 made good use ; then she disgraced herself by hiding 
 her face against his shoulder, and sobbing with all her 
 heart. 
 
 " Oh, how could I do it? Oh, I wish I had n't ! " 
 she said inconsequently. The irrationality of feminine 
 nature which weeps over an accomplished design was 
 beyond Truman's comprehension, but with characteristic 
 wisdom he did not struggle with the problem. He 
 gave himself up to administering comfort without words 
 until the sobs subsided. 
 
 "Do you think me very mad? "she asked with a 
 final catch in her breath, and a little shake of herself. 
 " There ! I am not going to cry any more, anyhow. 
 True, what do you think of me ? " 
 
 " The arm-chair is big enough for two," said Truman 
 with serene tact. " I 'm very small ! " As he tucked 
 himself comfortably down beside her, he added, " I 
 have so often wanted to ask you to try sharing it ! " 
 
 He looked at her with his beautiful expressive eyes, 
 26
 
 402 The Story of Eden 
 
 and Starling accepted the deeper meaning hidden be- 
 hind the arm-chair. 
 
 " It seems rather a pity you did n't," she remarked 
 ruefully. " Here you are going away to-morrow, and 
 if you had only had a little more sense it need n't have 
 been left to me to do at the last moment ! " 
 
 " I 'm very sorry," said True, meekly. There was a 
 little air of appropriation about Starling's taking to task 
 that he much appreciated. " Had n't we better make 
 the most of what time we have?" he added sugges- 
 tively. Now the arm-chair, although large for one, was 
 too narrow for two to allow of anything but excessively 
 close quarters, and the black frock and the red coat 
 were getting hopelessly entangled, when a voice in the 
 doorway caused a wild scramble, before they could 
 extricate themselves and realise that Mr. Dodd was 
 regarding them in ludicrous amazement. 
 
 " Well, I '11 be damned ! " said the Millionaire, blankly. 
 He gazed at the guilty couple, and took in Starling's 
 crimson face and Truman's obvious discomfiture, as 
 he stood in the doorway, looking stouter than usual in 
 his dress clothes, and with a sense of injury pervading his 
 whole person. The dominant thought in both Starling's 
 and Truman's minds, however, was not compunction or 
 abasement, but an earnest desire to know how long he 
 had been present, and what he had seen and heard. 
 
 " So mean of him to come in on us like that ! " 
 thought Mr. Johnnie's dutiful daughter. " Why could n't 
 he have knocked ? " 
 
 He had, several times, but they had been too well 
 entertained to notice it. 
 
 " Beastly awkward ! " thought True, so nonplussed 
 for the moment that he stood silent, pulling his mous- 
 tache, and embarrassment making his eyes darker than 
 their wont. " What fools we must have looked ! " then 
 he recovered himself, and turned to Mr. Johnnie with his 
 his usual serenity. " Did you want us ? " he said.
 
 The Story of Eden 403 
 
 " Yes, I did," said Mr. Johnnie, bluntly, and staring 
 from one to the other in a way that expressed more than 
 any words could have done. " We are going to play 
 pool. Will you both come ? " 
 
 "In one moment going to brush my hair," mur- 
 mured Starling, making a dash for the door. Her face 
 was still very rosy, and there was an unusually shy at- 
 mosphere about her whole figure. As she passed her 
 father in the doorway, she glanced up with the soft 
 brown eyes that were still moist. " I 'm so happy ! " 
 she whispered with a hurried embrace, and rushed away, 
 leaving Mr. Johnnie breathless from her onslaught. 
 
 " Upon my word ! " he exclaimed, as she disappeared. 
 " Starling is really too violent, she makes a dash for me 
 and forgets how stout I am. Well, Captain Truman " 
 He paused, and looked at his victim. Truman drew 
 himself up instinctively, with the set of his shoulders 
 which generally came on Parade. His wide steady gaze 
 never faltered before Mr. Johnnie's. 
 
 The Millionaire suddenly stepped forward and grasped 
 him by the hand. " Look here, True," he said huskily, 
 " I see how it is, and and I 'm grateful to you for put- 
 ting that look into my little girl's face, for she is evi- 
 dently as happy as she ever will be in this life. It 's all 
 right, my boy I know. You '11 write to me to-morrow, 
 or when you have time. We won't spoil your last even- 
 ing with business. I sha'n't be hard on you," added 
 Johnnie Dodd, with his high laugh, it was the sweetest 
 music Truman had ever heard. " And I 'm damned if 
 I would n't rather have you as a son-in-law than any man 
 in the damned world, for I believe you 're about the 
 best fellow in the whole damned Army." 
 
 Mr. Johnnie was excited, and the damns flew. Tru- 
 man never really remembered what followed ; but he had 
 a distinct impression of shaking hands heartily, and 
 feeling far more heady than he ever did after a farewell 
 night at Mess.
 
 404 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Now, we '11 go to the billiard-room," said Johnnie, 
 blowing his nose officiously. " I wonder where that 
 rogue of a girl has got to ? A mean skunk, I call her, 
 deserting like that and leaving you to bear the brunt 
 of it all!" 
 
 " I can't hear anything against Starling, sir ! " Truman 
 reminded him in his usual soft tones. " Shall I switch 
 off?" 
 
 As he extinguished the light, and followed his host, 
 he added inwardly, " What a fool I was not to do that 
 half an hour ago ! It 's a relief he knows without my 
 telling him, and we 've got the worst of it over, but 
 I would rather he had n't seen quite so much 1 "
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 4' Yea, I plucked the fruit 
 With eyes upturned to Heaven, and seeing there 
 Our god-thrones as the tempter said not God. 
 My heart, -which beat then, sinks. The sun hath sunk 
 Out of sight -with our Eden. 
 
 Night is near. 1 ' 
 
 PERHAPS, of all months, November is the most beautiful 
 in Wynberg. September and October are the real 
 spring, but they are still chilly, and the mornings and 
 evenings are treacherous. November breathes a fore- 
 taste of summer, and yet the effect of the winter rains 
 is still making the land cool and green. It is fresh and 
 dewy and exquisite, and the earth blooms and sings with 
 a great rejoicing. 
 
 Margery stood at the gate of the Rosary one morning 
 in November, and looked over the land before her with 
 the eye of benediction, for their boat sailed on the mor* 
 row, and she was going Home. She thought, as was 
 inevitable, of her first introduction to Wynberg, and the 
 impression made on her mind by the sparkling sunny 
 scene before her. And she wondered when, if ever, she 
 should see it again. For the Colony the green, smil- 
 ing Colony, where Nature laughed, and flowered, and 
 multiplied as always was convulsed with the War, 
 and men and women looked upon their very homes with 
 unacknowledged doubt, as on something which might 
 be taken from them, and from which they might come 
 to flee. Glencoe and Elanslaaghte had been fought, the 
 isolation of Ladysmith was imminent, and the first Army 
 Corps was only on its way out. In two short months 
 the red storm of rebellion, and slaughter, and disaffec-
 
 406 The Story of Eden 
 
 tion had swept down from North to South, and shaken 
 the apparently firmly established settlement to its founda- 
 tions. The fitful social life round about Cape Town still 
 went on Margery had called at Government House 
 only a few days since, for the household had returned 
 to Newlands ; but it seemed to her, as to most of the 
 women in those days, a horrible mockery of the old 
 friendly festivities, punctuated with the news of men's 
 deaths, men who a few short months since were doing 
 all this too, calling on the Governor, riding out to Tokai, 
 betting at the gymkanas and the Race Meetings, dining 
 at this or that house, which now mourned them as 
 friends sacrificed in the first moves of the War, as pawns 
 are sacrificed in a game of chess. 
 
 There was no outward alteration in the Rosary, no 
 appearance of desolation such as besets houses whose 
 owners are leaving them, as a rule. Lanse had let the 
 place furnished, and the only difference to Margery's 
 eyes was in the removal of her little personal belongings, 
 photos which had some of them already become relics, 
 books, and pictures. She had had one last tennis after- 
 noon, following the lead of other women who kept the 
 ball rolling bravely, and went the usual round as though 
 they had no secret fears, but kept their serene faith in 
 the Empire. That tennis had been marked in Margery's 
 mind by hearing then for the first time that Wynberg 
 Camp was to be turned into a hospital ; it came upon 
 her with a shock, and afterwards the afternoon was 
 always inextricably associated in her mind with the news, 
 which she overheard two of her guests telling each other. 
 In the same way a dinner party at Friedenhof stood out 
 in her mind as the occasion of hearing that Teddy 
 Barton had been wounded, and it was feared that he would 
 lose his arm ; and the first cricket match appeared to 
 her a forlorn gathering, so many familiar faces were ab- 
 sent, and was only noticeable for the news of a skirmish 
 in which the British had lost heavily, three men she
 
 The Story of Eden 407 
 
 knew being amongst those killed. She had a shrinking 
 fear of going out, for dread of what she should hear, and 
 yet she went, because to stay at home was unendurable. 
 
 The pony and cart came round to the gate for the 
 last time, and Margery went out slowly and got in beside 
 the Kaffir boy, whose broad brown face was gloomy with 
 the coming parting. He had liked his service with the 
 Baas and the Missus, and the absence of his usual flash- 
 ing smile and display of white teeth struck Margery 
 afresh with a sense of loss. Even this little drive was 
 one of those every day occurrences which she was doing 
 " for the last time," and Henry knew it as well as she. 
 The postman came up to the gate just as they were 
 starting, and she bent down and took her letters from 
 him, conscious that her eyes were moist, and hoping that 
 he would put it down to her correspondence. News, 
 alas ! brought tears more often than not in those days. 
 
 The letters were both, as it happened, in the same 
 hand, from Miles Mowbray, as Margery saw with the 
 spasm at her heart that the Natal postmark brought even 
 to the least interested among those who watched the 
 War. There had been some delay in transmission which 
 accounted for both arriving together. The first letter 
 was a long one, and was dated October 2 ;th. Margery 
 read it with eager intent, while Henry drove her soberly 
 along the leafy red lanes in which the sunlight lay in 
 golden patches, and the hedges were growing blue with 
 plumbago again. They were going Campwards, for a 
 farewell visit to the Hospital ; but the familiar road slid 
 by unheeded as Margery devoured her letter 
 
 DEAR MARGERY, I suppose I ought to say Mrs. 
 Crofton, but I sha'n't, and you can't scold me all this way 
 off! Many and various have been our wanderings since 
 I last wrote to you, and I have been in action but I can't 
 say I felt in the least excited; it was just like an ordinary 
 Field day. You know we were sent down to reinforce 
 Maritzburg, to our deep disgust, as fighting was expected
 
 408 The Story of Eden 
 
 here (Ladysmith). But on Thursday we were recalled from 
 Colenso, where they had kept us waiting about, and to our 
 astonishment, when we fell in, we started on the road 
 back the way we came. Half our battalion was escort to 
 baggage, and as we did n't fall in till 5 A. M., I had a little 
 more sleep than I expected, and a mouthful of bread. 
 Major Reynolds, who was in command of the baggage train, 
 threw out a small infantry advance guard, and told us what 
 was happening before we started, and that we should prob- 
 ably encounter the enemy, for it seems we were used as a 
 decoy duck, and that it was hoped the Boers would think 
 that a large force had marched from Ladysmith, and attack 
 us. They did n't, though. I was commanding the advance 
 guard, and if there had been an engagement I should have 
 got something ; but I am sorry to say we saw nothing of 
 the enemy. We got back to Ladysmith about 10 A. M. on 
 Monday morning, and during our absence the battles of 
 Dundee and Elanslaaghte had been fought. Oh, I am sick, 
 and so is every one else ! We got orders again on the 
 Monday evening, and on Tuesday morning we fell in, 
 reached the rendezvous, and were despatched as second 
 line. About five miles out we saw a group of men on the 
 crest of a ridge between high hills, about three thousand 
 yards or more away, and we were looking at them through 
 field glasses and wondering who they were, when, puff ! 
 came some smoke, and we then realised that it was the 
 enemy in position, and that they were shelling our cavalry. 
 The Rutlandshire, who were leading, immediately deployed 
 and formed for attack, and as they were advancing a shell 
 plumped down less than one hundred yards from our lead- 
 ing company, but did n't burst. Our men simply choked 
 with delight, and then the guns advanced, and the enemy, 
 who had got the range beautifully, put a shell straight into 
 them. I expected to see several killed and wounded, but 
 luckily the shell again did n't burst, and nobody was hurt. 
 One Officer had his haversack carried away and his horse 
 wounded, but no further damage was done. Then we got 
 the order to get under cover, and we marched our forces 
 absolutely unmolested behind a hill, deployed under cover, 
 and advanced to within two thousand yards, range behind 
 the guns, with the bullets whisking all round us. One
 
 The Story of Eden 409 
 
 tmllet struck between Hard Lines and myself, and two more 
 came in quick succession, one passing on my left, and the 
 other in front of us. I saw old Yeats pounding away with 
 his battery; but we lay mightily low, I can tell you. 
 Strangely enough as I said, I did n't feel in the least ner- 
 vous or worried, though it was the first time I had been 
 under fire, and only bobbed once, and that when a bullet 
 passed so close to my ear that I felt the wind of it. When 
 we got up to the guns, we lay down ; but I strolled up to 
 the front and watched the shells exploding over the enemy's 
 position. It was very interesting ; you could see the 
 Boers plainly, coming out by twos and threes, and then 
 when a good many had collected, bang would go one of our 
 guns, and a shell would burst right among them, and 
 they 'd scuttle back under cover. Our guns played on 
 their position for six hours, and we stayed there and looked 
 on. Two horses were killed within a few yards of where I 
 was, and I hear that Teddy Barton was wounded. The 
 men were quite unconcerned, and were chatting and smok- 
 ing all the time. Shortly after 2 p. M. the order came to 
 retire, and anything more casual and happy-go-lucky I 
 never saw. Our men halted under effective artillery fire to 
 get water from the cart, and as the shells came screaming 
 overhead, they kept saying, " Oh, lor ! There 's another 
 rocket, Mother ! " The enemy's big gun was silenced early 
 in the day, and they kept their other guns out of sight and 
 under cover until we retired. Very little damage was done 
 by their artillery fire ; it 's most odd that they don't seem 
 able to get the shells to burst. I believe we dusted the 
 Boers a good deal, but of course we can't tell, as they 
 cleared out as soon as we did, and it is believed that 
 they Ve gone to Acton Holmes, which is about thirty miles 
 from here. On Wednesday we did nothing, but to-day we 
 are ordered out, or rather are told to be in readiness to 
 march if necessary to cover the retreat of the Dundee 
 column. I am on outpost duty to-night. We fall in at 5 
 P. M. to support the others. Do write to me as long as 
 communication is open. It 's going to be a long business, 
 and goodness knows when I shall see you again, as you 
 will be going Home soon I suppose. I Ve written you 
 a very shoppy letter, but I don't suppose you will find fault
 
 41 o The Story of Eden 
 
 with that, as, after all, news that is reliable is most likely 
 very scarce down your way. 
 
 If you write, as I am sure you will, do tell me of the 
 movements down in the Cape. I expect I shall receive 
 your letters very irregularly, but I do look for them so. 
 You know I can't help thinking of you awfully, still. I 
 hope you did n't mind what I said to you on that day we 
 rode together to Tokai, and the day I left. Sometimes I 'm 
 afraid you did, though you were always so sweet and good 
 about it. But you know I did n't mean anything except to 
 warn you, and just to tell you how I thought of you, and 
 that I could n't bear to hear your name spoken lightly for 
 that very reason. I 've got your photo with me. It smiles 
 at me so sweetly just as you used to do. Dearest Madge 
 (you don't mind my saying that this once, do you ?), I want 
 to tell you, in case anything happens to me in this cam- 
 paign, that it made me awfully happy to love you, and I 
 look up to women all the more for having known you, and 
 seeing, through you, how good and sweet they can be. I 
 thought I must just tell you this. 
 
 Good-bye I must turn in now, I 'm so awfully sleepy, 
 and I've got to be up early, as well as on that beastly 
 outpost. 
 
 Yours always, 
 
 MILES MOWBRAY. 
 
 Margery folded the letter almost reverently, and put 
 it away with the tears hanging on her lashes and making 
 the slits of blue between them as misty as the blue 
 mountains which quivered and scintillated in the heat. 
 Mowbray's faith in her, and devotion to the idol he had 
 made, was always a pang to her. She almost thanked 
 God that he had never known that it had feet of clay. 
 She hoped he never would know. The second letter 
 was very short merely a scrap written a day or so 
 previously, and referring to a possible engagement, the 
 news of which had not yet reached Wynberg, 
 
 DEAREST MADGE, As we are expecting a fight on 
 Saturday or possibly later we fell in at one last night, 
 and were marched back to Camp, and are now surrounded
 
 The Story of Eden 411 
 
 on three sides by Boers. We move out to the attack to- 
 morrow. You know I don't think much of the Tracker in 
 private life, but I must own he 's a splendid soldier. I 'm 
 glad he 's leading us rather than Massy, one of our Majors 
 who came out lately, and has gone with some of our fellows 
 to Kimberley. They are acting as mounted infantry, and I 
 suppose you know that True is with them ? 
 
 As I write I can see the Boers massing on the hills not 
 two thousand yards away, and to-morrow I hope we are 
 going to do for them. Please excuse pencil, as there is no 
 kind or sort of thing in the way of pen or ink here. Good- 
 bye for the present. I don't anticipate being killed in the 
 least, but if I am, you won't quite forget me, will you, 
 Madge ? Yours, 
 
 MILES MOWBRAY. 
 
 Henry pulled up in front of the Mess, now converted 
 into the Officers' wards. Margery had arranged to meet 
 Starling there, and found she had arrived first, and was 
 standing on the stoep as she alighted. 
 
 " Where is Mr. Crofton ? " she said, as they shook 
 hands. 
 
 " He had to go to the wine farm to make some final 
 arrangements. I have just heard from Miles Mowbray, 
 Starling." 
 
 " Have you ? Of course I have n't heard from True 
 since Kimberley was invested." Starling smiled a little ; 
 it was a very tender smile, if a sad one. " He was ter- 
 ribly hard-worked when he last wrote, poor old fellow ! 
 He said he was very footsore and weary, and had only 
 had three meals in as many days. They had only just 
 been drafted off there, you know, and I think they set 
 them to work at once. I don't know what they were 
 doing, for I understood they were to be mounted Infan- 
 try ; but he said he had been having no breakfast or 
 lunch, only dinner each day, consisting of bread and 
 stew, and when he did get a meal he was absolutely 
 famished. That sounds almost as if they had been on 
 march, does n't it ? "
 
 412 The Story of Eden 
 
 " Poor True ! It seems to me that the troops out 
 here have had the brunt of it. They always said they 
 should get the 'dirty work ' you know." 
 
 " I am not certain," said Starling, doubtfully. " Dad 
 says there will be a lot of nasty fighting for the Home 
 contingent." 
 
 "Miles says that Ladysmith is nearly surrounded. 
 Oh, Starling, I can't bear the look of this place now! " 
 
 For they had entered the Mess, and were standing in 
 the long room where they had so often danced, and had 
 gay little suppers after theatricals and concerts at Camp. 
 It was to be the Officers' ward, the long table where the 
 Duke's, and the Rutlandshire, and many other regi- 
 ments had displayed their mess-plate, was gone now; 
 down the room ran rows of beds, empty, waiting! 
 There were no Officers in hospital yet, but the men had 
 come down from Durban in the Jclunga to relieve the 
 hospitals there, and about one hundred and fifty were in 
 the tents round about. 
 
 " Good-morning, Nurse," Starling said, as a quiet fig- 
 ure entered. " We have brought some flowers." 
 
 " Oh, is it you, Miss Dodd ? I was wondering who 
 it could be ! I saw the carts drive past our quarters." 
 
 " Have you many patients ? " Madge steadied her 
 voice to ask. The sight of those asking beds had un- 
 nerved her. 
 
 " No bad cases, I am glad to say. We have a good 
 many men here, and are expecting many more. We 
 can put seven or eight in a tent, you know." 
 
 " I hope it will not come to that ! " Starling put in 
 quickly. 
 
 " There have been big fights last Thursday and Fri- 
 day it is thought," said the nurse, with quiet significance. 
 " We have no Officers as yet. I think they keep them 
 up there, as they have none too many, and if they re- 
 cover they will be wanted for duty again at once." 
 
 " They seem to be picking off the Officers as before,"
 
 The Story of Eden 413 
 
 Starling said slowly. Her lips were rather white, but 
 she still smiled at the nurse. 
 
 " I am afraid so." 
 
 Madge put her flowers into the nurse's hands sud- 
 denly, and went out of the Mess. She drew a long 
 breath as of relief when she found herself on the stoep 
 looking across the quiet Camp dotted with little white 
 tents. There were no bugles sounding now, no band 
 flinging its merry music across the startled air, hardly 
 any soldiers to be seen. It was as quiet and primitive 
 as the heart of the country in England. 
 
 Starling came out of the Mess after a few minutes ; 
 she had stopped to talk to the nurse. " What was it, 
 Madge ? " she said. 
 
 " Nothing only those rows of beds waiting ! 
 And I 've danced there so often oh, Starling, it is like 
 dancing over your partners' grave ! I can't think how 
 one goes on with one's personal life at times like these ; 
 but that one does, makes it all the more strange and un- 
 real to me. I feel it can't be true ! those men we Ve 
 known so well we 've all been so intimate they were 
 just like everybody else, with the same chances in life. 
 And now to think of them dead shot down suddenly. 
 And they don't even count much, and the whole great 
 horrible War goes on as if such details as a few lives were 
 nothing. It is just as if the Nation were a huge Jugger- 
 naut which is rolling over us, and there is nothing to 
 save us ! " 
 
 " Of course if the skies fell at every sore heart's desire, 
 there would be no world ! " said Starling, a little tiredly. 
 " I suppose we have never realised till now how awful 
 war is. That is what makes it seem so intolerable 
 to us." 
 
 " Poor Starling, it is worse for you than for me ! I am 
 very selfish. But people talk of nothing but the War, 
 and it makes me so unsettled I don't know what to do. 
 I frivol about, and try to amuse myself and other people,
 
 414 The Story of Eden 
 
 and all the time I feel as if my world had come to an 
 end ! " 
 
 " Mine very nearly has," said Starling, with a sudden 
 stir of passion in her soft voice. " In spite of all I have, 
 
 my own dear people, and my friends, and everything, 
 
 life seems so empty and full of heartache. I didn't 
 know I saw so much of True ; but now he 's gone, it is 
 all so quiet ! No one rings at the bell no one comes 
 along the stoep there seems to be a great lull since 
 August." 
 
 Madge slipped her hand inside the arm nearest her, 
 with a little impulsive caress. She had no comfort to 
 offer save that of the tenderness of human touch. Star- 
 ling stood silent for a moment ; then she suggested 
 visiting one of the tents where she had been before, to 
 see a poor fellow who was paralysed. Madge turned 
 sick at the sights and sounds of suffering, but she kept 
 it to herself and bravely followed Starling through the 
 tents, seeing in her imagination all the familiar faces of 
 the men she had known distorted with just such suffer- 
 ing, picturing them crippled for life in just the same 
 way. She was trembling whan at last they walked back 
 to the spot where they had left the carts, and paused to 
 shake hands with the nurse. 
 
 " This is Mrs. Crofton's farewell visit," Starling said. 
 " She is going Home. I shall come next week, Nurse." 
 
 " I wish you a good voyage, Mrs. Crofton ! " said the 
 nurse, cordially. " And I wish you would hurry Eng- 
 land up a little when you get there ! There has been a 
 great outcry over the slowness of the Home Authorities, 
 has n't there, Miss Dodd?" 
 
 " Yes, but the reinforcements are really on their way 
 now," Starling acknowledged. " And the Indian troops 
 were arriving on the i ith. What a lot of excitement the 
 commandering of the gold by the S. A. R. caused 
 did n't it ? Dad said Cape Town was like a beehive 
 when the news came down."
 
 The Story of Eden 415 
 
 "Lanse thought they would do that," Madge put in. 
 " But it was a bold step. I wonder if any news will get 
 through to-day. The lists after the battles do take such 
 a time to reach us. I am afraid I shall not hear before 
 I go." 
 
 " I feel as if I only lived for the paper," said Starling 
 honestly. " And especially the later editions. I know 
 Dad must bring some news, so I simply wait for him at 
 the Station whenever he goes into Cape Town. Good- 
 bye, Madge ! I shall see you on board, to-morrow." 
 
 "Yes, and don't be late, Starling. One seems to 
 have so little time before the boat starts. Home, 
 Henry ! " 
 
 The little familiar word struck her afresh as she said 
 it. It was again " for the last time." She would not 
 give that order and drive back to the pretty old house 
 for many a long day after to-morrow. Her eyes were 
 dim as she turned round in the cart to look at the Camp 
 on the sunny slope, a farewell look that tried to impress 
 every detail on her memory. Then the cart swung out 
 into the deep red lanes with the thick trees, just in full 
 foliage, meeting overhead. Hill and valley, stream and 
 meadow, deep lanes and garden-land and familiar 
 houses, they flashed past merrily in the sunshine, to the 
 bowling of the swift wheels over the warm-hued earth. 
 Margery looked upon her Paradise as Eve looked 
 upon the visible Eden when she left it ; but she knew 
 in her heart that she had forfeited it long since. It was 
 only the outward and tangible sign, this passing out of 
 the East Gate, and the Angel with the flaming sword 
 was visible to her alone, as he had been visible all 
 along. Yet she realised an irrevocable change, even in 
 the relations of outward things with her existence. She 
 might return here some day ; but it would never be quite 
 the same, for there was an alteration in herself. 
 
 " This is the end of that chapter at any rate," she 
 thought. " Can any other be as sweet, as full of life
 
 4i 6 The Story of Eden 
 
 and terror and tragedy? I have suffered, but then I 
 have also lived. Perhaps Clarice was right without 
 that terrible experience to develop me, I might have 
 missed Lanse, and yet and yet oh, what would I 
 not have given to have had no former experience, to 
 have been all his ! I don't know about the wages of 
 sin being death, but they are certainly pain ! Sometimes 
 I feel as if I had not been true to either man as if I 
 were not even worthy of Jack. 
 
 " ' I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion 1 ' 
 
 My fashion has always been an uncertain thing, blown 
 about by every impulse, not even true to itself ! I 
 wonder why I felt no remorse for kissing Jack at the 
 end ! it was only an impulse, like all the rest, and yet 
 I don't feel as if that had been any disloyalty. Per- 
 haps I am coming to realise that human nature is so ruled 
 by impulse, and the force of an unexpected crisis, that 
 it has hardly any free-will at all. One can only flee 
 from temptation. It is no good thinking that one is 
 superior to the rest of the world, and able to resist. 
 After this War, if there is any chance of meeting him 
 again, I will escape somehow ; I won't lay myself open 
 even to the influence of pity. ... I must give Lanse 
 Miles's letter to read. He will be interested. Oh, no, 
 I don't think I can though, I will read it to him 
 all but the end. I can't read him the end. . . . Yes, 
 last days are queer things always, I feel that 
 sense of ending a chapter very strongly on me now 
 and such a chapter ! There can never be another 
 like it ! " 
 
 The perfect day rounded and drooped to an equally 
 perfect night. Margery wandered out of the house 
 after dinner, and stood at the gate. The garden was 
 full of roses, full of the scents and sounds of summer, 
 and the fireflies were a strange sight, they filled the dark 
 with flying jewels. Summer had many associations for
 
 The Story of Eden 417 
 
 Margery that winter had not, and the garden at night 
 had a pang beyond all telling, though it was not haunted 
 with absolute associations like that at Vine Lodge. 
 Lanse had been giving some last instructions to the 
 men ; but he joined her after a few minutes, and came 
 and leaned on the gate beside her. His voice heralded 
 him, for he was singing a bar of a song as he came, and 
 the beautiful liquid notes floated across the still air and 
 gave Margery an additional sense of pleasure. Lansing 
 had a really exceptional voice, with that strange quality 
 in it like the vibration of a violin string. 
 
 " But youth is wayward, and the world is wide, 
 You 're sure to wander sometimes from my side ! " 
 
 he sang as he reached the gate, and stood beside her. 
 "Tired, dearest?" 
 
 " No, Lanse." 
 
 "Sorry to leave?" 
 
 " A little I 'm taking the best of it with me, 
 though." She turned quickly, with a secret greed of the 
 treasure of his love, and touched him half timidly, as if 
 to assure herself of his actual presence. His arm stole 
 round her waist, and she laid her head against his 
 breast 
 
 " What a romantic couple we are, spooning in the 
 starlight after being married the best part of a year ! " he 
 said. 
 
 "I 'm glad there is no moon I like the starlit nights 
 better," she said. " Lanse I was thinking before 
 you came out " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Supposing we had never cared for each other? We 
 might not have done, you know. We might just have 
 drifted past, as I have seen hundreds of men's and 
 women's lives drift, partly because they had n't time to 
 know each other, I think sometimes. Life changes so 
 here, you know the men come and go, and the girls 
 2 7
 
 4i 8 The Story of Eden 
 
 go Home, and liking doesn't always develop into 
 loving. We might have been like that." 
 
 " You did your best for it, anyhow ! How often did 
 you say No ? " 
 
 "Oh, I thought " The pain of her refusal came 
 back across all the after happiness, and stung her with 
 its reason. "I thought you were going to care for 
 Starling, and I was dreadfully jealous !" she said more 
 lightly. 
 
 " I never cared for any one but you, and I never 
 meant to marry any one but you. Did n't you know 
 that?" 
 
 " I thought you had given it up ! " 
 
 " I never give things up," said Lanse, and he spoke 
 the truth. " If you had married another fellow well, 
 then I should probably have tried to wreck his home ! 
 I know I 'm a beast but I never pretended to be 
 a saint." 
 
 Margery gasped. The queer clashing of coincidences 
 in the suggestion of his words made her giddy. " Don't 
 let's talk of what might have been," she said inconsist- 
 ently. " It is not so and we are happy." 
 
 He laughed a little in his full content. " Yes, and we 
 will go on proving marriage not a failure, eh ? " he said. 
 " I say, Madge, I hope supposing there were con- 
 tingent Circumstances ? I should like it, should n't you ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked, really puzzled ; but 
 as he turned his head and kissed her she understood. 
 " Oh ! " she said a little blankly. The possibility of 
 adding to the perfect circle which made their married 
 life and held them only, had not troubled her of late. 
 At first she had had to face it as an inevitable possibility, 
 but had soon thrust it into the background of her mind 
 for reasons she would hardly own even to herself; as 
 long as the absolute and accomplished fact was not an 
 immediate consideration, she was content to put it by as 
 a thing of the future, and had succeeded in laying the
 
 The Story of Eden 419 
 
 spectre of her own doubts and fears. Now Lanse's 
 direct reference brought it up before her again ; she 
 asked herself, in the shock of the moment, if she were fit 
 to be the mother of his children. It seemed a more 
 solemn responsibility than to be his wife, long as she 
 had hesitated over that, even. " Am I good enough ? " 
 she asked in her humiliated knowledge of her past self. 
 " For all my efforts, and my honest life in the present, 
 does not that dead self rise up to prove what I can be ? 
 Oh, supposing supposing I gave some dreadful 
 weakness of my own nature to an unborn human being ! 
 Or, supposing my influence were unconsciously bad ! " 
 . . . Her own words recurred to her " I do not know 
 about the wages of sin being death, but they are cer- 
 tainly pain ! " 
 
 " I suppose every man looks forward to having chil- 
 dren sometime," said Lanse, with beautiful indefinite- 
 ness. " Would you mind, dearie ? " 
 
 " Not if you wished it, Lanse." 
 
 She spoke slowly, facing the inevitable. Her elastic 
 nature recoiled from the morbid dread of those remorse- 
 ful thoughts, and she comforted herself with the frank 
 prayer that she might do her best 
 
 "You wouldn't be afraid, my darling?" That was 
 the husband whispering to the wife under the eternal 
 boughs of Paradise, as it was in the beginning and ever 
 shall be ; and the anxiety of his love challenged the 
 courage of hers. 
 
 " No, dear, of course not We will hope it will be so 
 as you wish it." 
 
 The wistful reservation passed him by. Only the 
 silence and sweetness of the night closed them round, 
 and the Southern stars flashed overhead, and the fireflies 
 made trails of light across the garden. Then Madge 
 spoke again, as if her words came out of the beauty 
 of it all. 
 
 " Lanse, do you know I once called Wynberg the 
 Garden of Eden?"
 
 420 The Story of Eden 
 
 "Did you? Why?" 
 
 "I thought it looked like it. We are going away 
 from Paradise into the outer World that's all." 
 
 "We can leave the gate ajar and come back." 
 
 "Some one else might go in instead, in the mean 
 time ! " said Margery, laughing. " What nonsense I am 
 talking ! But it is safer to lock the Gates of Paradise, 
 even if one hopes to return there ! " 
 
 As Margery had feared, the lists of killed and wounded 
 in the last fight had not come through by the next morn- 
 ing. The paper could give few details, and with a sigh 
 she put her anxiety aside, as not to be answered as yet, 
 unless the news reached Madeira by cable from England 
 before they touched there. 
 
 It was a fair day, with a little scented wind. Wynberg 
 laughed behind them as they left it ; Cape Town sim- 
 mered and hummed in the heat, for the heart of exist- 
 ence was here, and humanity was astir with the War. 
 The very docks had a crowded, unusual appearance, 
 with the troop ships and the merchantmen and the 
 Niobe on guard. Lanse and Margery were too busy, 
 and too much caught into the whirl of things, to have 
 time for regret. They went on board early, and by 
 luncheon-time their guests had mostly assembled. 
 Johnnie Dodd and Starling had come out to see 
 them off, as well as Polly Harbord, and Beau Living- 
 ston looking as exquisitely cool as though dust and heat 
 and the mental trouble in the air did not exist; and 
 Joey Tullock from Simon's Town, who was ramping to 
 take the Skate round to Durban, and the Drysdales, and 
 Blanche Cunningham, more strikingly decorative than 
 ever in the light of day, and bearing the Professor's good 
 wishes, which were more welcome than his presence 
 would have been ; and Cissie Redmayne, who was 
 attended by a Rondebosch man whom Wynberg only 
 knew slightly, in place of her lawful husband, on duty
 
 The Story of Eden 421 
 
 in Cape Town, all the pleasant, careless people whom 
 Madge had known well during the last few years, and 
 who had been part and parcel of the ephemeral, shifting 
 life which she was suddenly and strangely leaving. 
 Their irresponsibility was hardly darkened even by the 
 undeniable reality of pain and heroism and death and 
 disaster, which the War had thrust amongst them ; only 
 now and then the light chatter would diverge to some 
 incident relating to a man at the front whom all had 
 known, and who, it might be, was known to no one 
 now save the Angel of Death, and then a shadow swept 
 over the bright faces, as the wind swept the shadow of a 
 cloud over the blue heights and depths of the mountains. 
 The Croftons' party filled a table to themselves at lunch- 
 time, and made merry, while the band played the National 
 Anthem and Rule Britannia, and the champagne fizzed 
 to the health of the troops, and the women's laughter 
 belied the tears not far from their eyes. 
 
 " There is nothing so abominably merry as one of 
 these leave-takings in Cape Town docks ! " said Beau 
 Livingston, when, after luncheon, he and Madge were 
 leaning on the wooden rail of the promenade deck, 
 watching the Kaffirs bringing in the last piles of luggage, 
 and dusky salesmen trying to dispose of the skins and 
 karooses which they spread on the stones of the quay to 
 tempt passengers leaning over the boat's side. " I should 
 like of course to cry bitterly May I smoke ? Thanks ! 
 it will sustain me but out of feeling for you, I refrain." 
 
 " Cheer up ! we may meet next in London. Starling 
 told me you regretted my absence when she was Home, 
 I am treasuring that up for the future. Are you 
 coming Home, Beau?" 
 
 " No, I think not. I shall wait and see it through. 
 Besides, I am curious about the er distribution of 
 prizes afterwards. I have great confidence in friend 
 Rhodes." 
 
 11 Supposing the prizes went to the Boers ! "
 
 422 The Story of Eden 
 
 " What a shocking idea ! Kruger as head boy rather 
 than Milner ! Where is your loyalty ? " 
 
 " Entirely with Sir Alfred as every one's must be 
 who has been here and witnessed what he has done. 
 How quiet and dignified he has been through it all ! " 
 
 " And yet," said Beau, taking the cigar daintily be- 
 tween two fingers of his right hand, and knocking the 
 ash off with a third, " when you reach home you will 
 probably find the Radical papers clamouring for his 
 instant removal, and pointing out the things he has not 
 done, and the things he has, which will be equal of- 
 fences unto them ! The Unionist Press may not follow 
 suit; but it is more than probable that being 6,000 
 miles off, they will be more positive as to the right way 
 of governing us than we presume to be ourselves. Don't 
 get excited over it, pray ! " 
 
 " I am not excited, I don't know what you mean ! 
 But I should like to censure the whole Press, if it does n't 
 back up Sir Alfred ! " 
 
 "I thought as much. What a beautiful winter sun- 
 set ! You will find none better in England." 
 
 " Beau, you are enigmatical, and I don't understand 
 you. Mr. Johnnie, don't you agree with me that Sir 
 Alfred is the man of the moment?" 
 
 " I wish he 'd proclaim Martial Law down here ! " 
 said Johnnie Dodd, grimly. " Perhaps now Buller is 
 out he will. Got a light, Livingston? My cigar 's 
 out." 
 
 As Beau supplied the match, Mrs. Drysdale took his 
 place beside Madge for the moment. " We all want to 
 talk to you," she said. " But Beau possesses a perfect 
 genius for absorbing the object of interest in these cases. 
 It is the careful way in which he has trained his own 
 selfishness, I believe. Look at Cape Town, Madge ! 
 did you ever see it prettier?" 
 
 " Don't ! I hate leaving the sunshine and the colour, 
 and my own home. The garden is looking so lovely
 
 The Story of Eden 423 
 
 just now, Clarice. I believe my heart will always be in 
 Africa." 
 
 "It is a beautiful year. I have never seen the trees 
 greener, or the vineyards more brilliantly fresh, or the 
 plumbago bluer." 
 
 " We rode out nearly to Hout's Bay the other even- 
 ing, " Madge paused, and a curious look crossed her 
 face. "I shall never forget it. The view was so in- 
 tense and yet so soft, and the last sunbeams over the 
 Nek were just kissing the top of the Devil's Peak. It 
 all looked so pretty, no, pretty is n't the word ! That 
 applies to English fields and hedgerows. It was so full 
 of life and warmth. It was Africa ! " 
 
 " Madge, how long do you feel you have lived since 
 you came out here ? " 
 
 " A lifetime. How I have altered, have n't I, and 
 grown ! I think I was in swaddling bands that day you 
 found me, crying over Anthony's crossness, and the bad 
 cooking, and the ugly furniture ! " 
 
 " It was soon remedied, as I told you it would be. 
 But the change does not lie in the greater power to 
 reconstruct and manage things as you wish, does it? 
 though that is something too. You have altered, 
 are you sorry ? " 
 
 " I think not. " Her eyes strayed away among the 
 crowd on the wharf, the Kaffirs, the loafers, the 
 Officers of the boat superintending the arrival of the 
 Mails. " I have been married, you see, and I have 
 Lanse ! " 
 
 " Ah ! I told you, you would find that men were not 
 all brutes and fools. Have you proved it ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think I have." 
 
 " Then the experience was worth while," said Mrs. 
 Drysdale, in a rather strange fashion. " And the coming 
 to Africa, and the lifetime crammed into the three years, 
 and the mixing with men and women under different 
 conditions, is all part of the learning how to live. But
 
 424 The Story of Eden 
 
 I trembled for you once, Madge. It is sink or swim 
 here ! " 
 
 " Perhaps it is both, sink first, find the use of your 
 hands and feet, and swim afterwards. Men learn it Up 
 Country. We women seem to learn it in the stress and 
 strain of new conditions of social life. And yet the 
 pain, Clarice ! How one pays for all knowledge in 
 this world ! One learns real life by means of tears." 
 
 " I say, Madge," said Blanche's voice behind them. 
 " Have you heard that Ladysmith is cut off ? " 
 
 " I supposed it would be," said Margery, turning 
 round. "I heard from Miles Mowbray yesterday." 
 
 " They are pigging it dreadfully," said Blanche. " For- 
 rester wrote to me, not long ago. He said they loathed 
 the place. It 's more lively now though, I suppose ! " 
 
 " They will learn to be thankful for small mercies be- 
 fore they have done ! " said Mrs. Drysdale. " How 's 
 the Professor, Mrs. Cunningham?" 
 
 " Liverish," said Blanche, briefly. " I advised him not 
 to come to-day, under the circumstances. He sent you 
 his love, Madge." 
 
 " That I 'm sure he did n't, Blanche ! Anthony never 
 did such a thing in his life. I daresay he was polite 
 enough to hope that I should n't be seasick, and to 
 cheerfully prognosticate that I should ! " 
 
 Blanche smiled sleepily. "You ought to have a 
 good time anyhow," she said. "I like the men on 
 this boat. I hope we shall be coming Home in the 
 Spring, Madge. I don't see why we shouldn't." 
 
 " If any one could make Anthony unearth himself 
 and come Home, I daresay you could. It was more 
 than I ever accomplished, anyway. But I hope you 
 will come, Blanche. Tell Anthony I '11 look him out 
 a Flat near the British Museum." 
 
 " I say, you girls," broke in Johnnie Dodd, he had 
 a genial way of grouping all womankind known to him 
 under this head, " Beau tells me tea is going in
 
 The Story of Eden 425 
 
 the Saloon. If you want any, you '11 have to look it up. 
 The Mails always precede ' Any more for the shore.' " 
 
 " Very well, you come too," Clarice said airily, tucking 
 her hand into his arm. " Are you coming, Madge ? I 
 dare n't leave Mr. Johnnie about, or he will be getting 
 himself lost in the Captain's cabin, and have to make 
 the voyage as a stowaway." 
 
 " One minute " said Madge, hurriedly. " Is n't 
 that an early edition ? There 's a boy there with papers. 
 Do get me one, Beau?" 
 
 Livingston raised his hand to the boy, and made a 
 motion to a steward. In the pause that followed, Madge 
 felt Mrs. Drysdale and Blanche move into the deck- 
 house with Johnnie Dodd. They were still talking, and 
 the chatter of the groups all round her, the passengers 
 joining the boat and their friends seeing them off and 
 giving last messages, still continued. But neither she 
 or Beau said a word. She was even thinking, as the 
 steward returned and put the thin flimsy sheet into her 
 hands, that when communication was re-opened Jack 
 Vibart would write to her again, and that she dreaded 
 receiving his letters. He had written once since he left, 
 a gay confident letter that troubled her, and he had said 
 that he should write again soon. That he had not done 
 so was due, no doubt, to his responsible position and 
 the many duties it entailed on him. She wished that 
 she had not taken his ring ; that also had been simple 
 impulse like all the rest of it. She had packed the 
 little brown poetry book in her cabin trunk, with some 
 idea of throwing it overboard and getting rid of it at last 
 in that way. The ring was at that moment in her 
 pocket. She had slipped it in there before starting, 
 having forgotten to lock it up, as he had advised, in the 
 hurry of packing and departure. Why had she ever 
 taken it 1 How foolish it was, it would mislead him, 
 and make him think. . . . she must write from England 
 and explain that she meant nothing now ; she would re-
 
 426 The Story of Eden 
 
 peat what she had said at Camp at the Tennis Tourna- 
 ment, only more gently. It was so unnecessary to 
 inflict pain when there was so much one could not help 
 in the world. She need not be rough. Perhaps she 
 need not write at all, if he did not. . . . 
 
 She had turned the sheet to look for the long delayed 
 list of casualties. It was headed with his name. 
 
 Beaumont Livingston, holding the paper with her, 
 read over her shoulder : " Killed Colonel John 
 Mortimer Vibart. The Duke's. Sec. Lieu. Miles 
 Mowbray." Then followed a list of wounded, George 
 Tennyson and Scott Murray being amongst the names. 
 " Poor Jack ! " was all he said. 
 
 Margery took her hand slowly from the paper. Her 
 eyes, still idly straying amongst the crowd on the quay, 
 saw only the spectre of her fear during the bush fire, 
 and again yesterday morning in the Hospital. Jack was 
 dead ! poor, gay, handsome Jack, as innocent of 
 morals as he was of physical fear ! " A splendid soldier ! " 
 as Mowbray had said. The tribute from his junior 
 Officer, killed in the same skirmish, rose to her mind. 
 Even Miles Mowbray's death hardly affected her at the 
 moment in the same way. She was sorry so sorry that 
 she felt she could have cried for him. But not for 
 Jack, because it was so impossible. "Jack is dead. Jack 
 is dead," she repeated to herself stupidly. " I knew 
 this might happen any moment. And I can't believe it 
 now." This man who had been her lover in the 
 shock of his death the truth stood bare, stripped of 
 decency or prevarication, whom she had felt in some 
 sort she looked down upon for being so utterly human, 
 so material had suddenly passed above her into the 
 majesty and elusiveness of death. Jack was dead. 
 How could blame or tenderness touch him now ? New 
 resolves on her part affected him no longer. He was 
 dead she need not trouble herself. 
 
 She had forgotten Livingston entirely. Quietly, almost
 
 The Story of Eden 427 
 
 mechanically, she slipped her hand into her pocket, and 
 took out the heavy seal ring which even to handle had 
 made her shrink an hour ago, it was so reminiscent of 
 him and memories happier forgotten. She held it in 
 her hand for a moment, looking at it curiously; then 
 she dropped it over the boat's side, into the sullen dark 
 water of the docks. In the bustle and confusion of the 
 moment nobody saw her but the man at her side, and 
 he was watching. Her face, perhaps, told him many 
 things of which she was unconscious ; the blue eyes 
 fixed on her read through the veil of silence as undeni- 
 ably as the Rontgen rays do through flesh, until he saw 
 the skeleton beneath. He took the cigar from his lips 
 again, and knocked the ash off thoughtfully against the 
 wooden rail of the boat. 
 
 Margery turned from him as though she did not know 
 he was there, and made an uncertain step towards the 
 deckhouse. 
 
 " and so my friend shot the tiger in the jungle ! " 
 said Beaumont Livingston to himself. 
 
 " Any more for the shore ! " 
 
 Mr. Johnnie and his two companions reappeared 
 breathlessly, and the next two minutes were a confusion 
 of handshaking and farewell good wishes. 
 
 " Take the paper there is bad news in it," Madge 
 said, thrusting it into Mrs. Drysdale's hand. " I do 
 not want it left. Good-bye, Clarice ! " 
 
 They kissed each other. ... As the gangplank was 
 drawn up, a long cheer broke from the crowd on the quay, 
 and as Margery lent on the rail she saw her friends stand- 
 ing there together in the sunshine, Beau Livingston's up- 
 right grey-clad figure, and beautiful mocking face, as he 
 waved his hat, Clarice looking up at the boat, Blanche 
 with the light on her red hair, Starling, Johnnie Dodd ; 
 . . . then she knew that Lanse had come and was leaning 
 beside her, and the boat was moving slowly, slowly out 
 of the docks. "Have you heard the news, Madge?"
 
 428 The Story of Eden 
 
 he said. "Yes, I know," she answered. " I am awfully 
 sorry. Poor fellows ! " he added . . . farther, farther 
 yet the great boat swinging round, and the sun going 
 down. Some one spoke to Lanse, and he moved away, 
 but the comfort of his presence remained with her. . . . 
 A space of blue sea between shore and ship, the pas- 
 sengers leaving the promenade deck, and going below, 
 as if it were all oveY. . . . Margery leaned on the rail and 
 watched the sunset, and the line of the retreating shore. 
 Cape Town was still sharply visible in the warm dying 
 light, a city of big buildings, of strength and beauty 
 and life, with the velvet mountain standing sentinel be- 
 hind it ... One of the Officers of the boat hovered 
 near her, wishing to speak and begin an acquaintance 
 to be worked up on the voyage. She turned and smiled, 
 with the assured position of a pretty woman. As he 
 began to talk to her, she contrasted herself curiously 
 with the shy girl who had come out three years before. 
 She had been more eager for pleasure and distraction 
 then, but she had not found it so ready to her hand as 
 now. She had developed. She knew her own worth, 
 and was sure of herself. 
 
 " Look your last at Cape Town, Mrs. Crofton ! " said 
 the Officer, suddenly. 
 
 The sun was going; as she turned and looked he 
 touched the mountains. The ship held steadily on her 
 outward way, the purple and sunset water widening 
 between her and the shore. Overhead was an empty blue 
 sky with one star the evening star hanging in the 
 void. The light went lower, the Earth turned by just 
 so much of a hair's-breadth as dropped the land out of 
 sight of the ship, and Africa and the sun went down be- 
 hind the round horizon together.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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