CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

ON THE HEIGHTS.

Bloemfontein, the beautiful. Have you seen Bloemfontein? No? Well you must do so before you leave Africa. In this lovely place, its streets shaded by trees, whose luxurious foliage is kept in perennial verdure by purling streams, had Kate Darcy chosen a resting-place. What a change from the dirty, dusty, noisy Fields, with streets filled with hungry worshippers of Mammon, to this crystallised mirage, for one would scarcely realise that so beautiful a garden could rise out of a desert, except in imagination.

Here in the midst of a garden of roses, encircled by a hedge of cactus, stood the house in which Kate Darcy had chosen to make her home for the nonce. Its owner, a wealthy Hollander, who had come out as a missionary, and availed himself of the opportunities of trade with great success, was now visiting Europe with his family. The house was luxuriously furnished, and a Scotchwoman, as housekeeper, watched over all the barbaric creatures--servants on the place.

One morning, a few weeks after her arrival, Kate was listlessly swinging in a hammock shaded by a fig-tree, when Margaret appeared, saying:

"A gentleman to see you, Miss Darcy."

"Who is it, Margaret?"

"Here is his card."

As Kate read the name of C.A. Fox--Kimberley, she said:

"Show him the way to the garden, Margaret. I will receive him here."

When the doctor reached the veranda that overlooked this charming spot, he stood lost in admiration. Before him was the woman he had dreamed of, thought of, loved--since the hour he first met her. Never before had he seen so beautiful, so idyllic a picture. She looked sweet and restful under the trees, with the sunlight striking the trembling leaves which threw playful shadows over her face.

At his approach, she rose from her hammock to greet him. Taking both her hands in his, and looking into her eyes, as if he would read her inmost thoughts, he said: "I hope that you are glad to see me?"

"Indeed I am," said Kate, heartily. "I was beginning to feel a little secret restlessness, and a desire for the society of a congenial soul. What good angel has brought you to Bloemfontein? Ah, I know," she continued, for the doctor seemed for once in his life at a loss for words; "the angel of mercy. Some poor stricken sufferer has heard of your skill and sent for you. Is it a case for the surgeon, or physician?"

"I have not fully diagnosed the case."

"It is not a hopeless one, I trust?" said Kate.

"I fear it is."

"Let us hope that with your skill, aided by kind Providence, all will be well."

"I will say Amen, to that, but, as it is a case for the metaphysician, I fear I shall lose the patient."

"Ah, Doctor! and you whose happy cures are so frequently the result of mental action. By the way, is the patient one of your own sex?"

"Yes; and therein lies the danger."

With one accord they began to walk slowly over the grounds. As they walked, they talked, and in the midst of their talk, they would cease to walk; standing still to enjoy some thought of the moment, and then begin to pace over the green sward.

"I thought, Miss Darcy, that I would leave the Fields during the hot Christmas season, and visit you."

"You have done quite right. We will try to entertain you as best we know how. Instead of the usual Christmas turkey with its accompanying cranberry sauce, we will serve up to you some of those delightful dishes our Coolie cook knows so well how to prepare, with a feast of rare fruit, such as I think you have never tasted."

"I see you think of the inner man?"

"Why, certainly! You, like the rest of your brothers, love to be well fed. You see that I wish you to be amiable while you are here. Experience has taught me that a good dinner makes a man much better company than he would be without it."

"Miss Darcy, I think your presence would always make a man feel at his best."

"Tut! Tut! what nonsense. I am more of a philosopher than you. There is nothing equal to a good dinner to make a man feel at peace with all the world."

"How are you off for servants?"

"I have not the slightest idea how many Margaret has on her staff. When meal time comes around, there will be a quorum or more Kafirs around the kitchen door. Always enough to come to a decision on the merits of the cook, cuisine, and condiments. They are an amusing study. They come in all sorts of garbs: in blankets, old military jackets once owned by some brave Englishman, and a variety of garments too absurd to mention. One Kafir came with a stovepipe hat turned upside down, so that he could have carried all his worldly possessions in it if he had wished to do so. The hat was held on his head by fastening a string to each side of the rim, and tying them under his chin. In addition to that he had on a paper collar, and a pair of old pantaloons half way up to his knees. He had a knob-kerrie in his hand, and walked much as a Broadway dandy would walk."

"Miss Darcy," said the doctor, laughingly, "you should fill a sketch-book with all these strange characters you see. Your powers of observation are so developed that you perceive things which others would pass blindly over."

"I have not the slightest talent for sketching. These scenes will have to remain imprinted on the photographic tablet of my memory."

"I trust your housekeeper suits you?"

"Margaret is all one could ask for, and such an honest body. I know she doesn't `pretty much'!"

"One could not truthfully say that she is handsome! You are perfectly safe while she is your body-guard. Has she raised that moustache since you met her?"

Kate laughed merrily, for Margaret always reminded her of an old mouser. It seemed as if she never could have been young, and her clothes had a home-made-in-a-hurry sort of look about them. But Margaret filled her niche in the world.

"Let us take a drive before dinner," said Kate, "and let me show you through this beautiful little town of ours, which we think compares favourably with those havens of rest around Cape Town. You must have seen at the hotel the Englishmen, who are enjoying poor health, and losing their old dreaded belief in consumption."

"I did, and found them agreeable company. You have pleasant neighbours?"

"I don't know. I should be sorry to find that I have not, so I do not try to gratify any curiosity I may have on the subject."

They had reached the house, and Kate, having given orders for the horses to be harnessed to the Victoria, excused herself for a few moments. When she returned she wore a plain cream-coloured cashmere dress. A wide-brimmed Leghorn hat, with drooping feathers, sat gracefully on her head.

After driving through the miniature city, with its imposing banks, churches, House of Parliament, and handsome residences, they struck the road leading along the edge of a line of hills that overshadowed the town, passing several neatly-kept vineyards. For an hour they kept up a running fire of conversation on every topic except the one nearest their hearts; then the doctor turned the horses, and the spirited creatures put their noses down and enjoyed the run home over the hard, smooth road, as much as did the occupants of the carriage behind them. Dinner was ready when they reached the house, and they sat a long time chatting over the viands before them, unmindful of everything outside those four walls. After dinner the garden was again visited, and Kate swung idly in her hammock, while the doctor sat near by and told her the news of the Kimberley world. A cool breeze sprang up at sunset, and the moon rose in all her silvery glory.

They were both content. The day had brought its full amount of happiness, and was one to be kept in memory.