Part 7 (1/2)

”Oh, Deirdre, how you startled me! I had quite forgotten about your arriving.”

”_Merci, ma cherie_,” I laughed, ”but I hope your cook has not. One thing Africa has done for me is to provide me with a perpetual appet.i.te.

I don't know yet whether it is a good thing or not.”

Having hidden her hands under the counterpane my sister-in-law regained her complacency.

”My dear child, it is a very bad thing; it is simply mockery, like all the other favours Africa bestows, for there is nothing here to appease your good appet.i.te. I hope you will not expect b.u.t.tered eggs and grilled ham, etc, or you will be terribly disappointed. Reimptje never gives us anything but mealie-meal porridge, and eggs boiled as hard as stones.”

”I met those luxuries on the journey up.”

”They are all any one ever has for breakfast in Mashonaland.”

”In that case I shall go to sleep again for a week,” I said, and turned my face to the wall.

”Oh! how unkind of you, Deirdre, when I am longing to hear all the news about everybody.”

So we gossiped awhile, and I told her all the home news, and she explained to me how she came to be in Fort George and away from d.i.c.k.

It appeared that a slight epidemic of typhoid fever had broken out in Salisbury, and every one had become very much alarmed, as its origin could not be discovered. The hospital sisters were coping well with cases, but many men had decided to send their wives away for a while until the reason of the outbreak had been discovered. As several other ladies were starting for Fort George d.i.c.k had persuaded Judy that it might be a good thing for her also to get a little change.

”We came down by waggon with an escort of men, and it was awfully jolly and amusing at first,” said Judy. ”But we are all rather sick of it, and would like to go back. At least I would. I don't think Mrs Valetta cares very much, for she has an awful husband and is delighted to be away from him. Mrs Skeffington-Smythe, though she pretends to adore her wretched little Monty, is not at all in a hurry to go back to _him_. She and Anna Cleeve are living in a tent together and affect to be enormous friends, calling each other by pet names, but they will have a terrible quarrel one of these days. Mrs Valetta lives in the hut next door, but there is an entrance from it into this, and she has her meals with me and is obliged to come in here to dress, as her hut has no looking-gla.s.s. I hope you won't mind her coming. Of course she must see herself.”

I did not recognise any such necessity on the part of so wicked-looking a face, but I said nothing, and presently, after Judy had dressed and gone to make some inquiries on the subject of breakfast, Mrs Valetta, swathed in an ashen-blue kimono that matched her eyes, came wearily in and stood before the dressing-table. She began to take hold of some curls that were lying about on her forehead and to fluff them up with a hairpin. In the meantime she looked in the mirror at me, examining me carefully.

”Aren't you going to get up?” she asked. ”Your sister-in-law promised to take you round to the tennis-court this afternoon. Every one is very anxious to see you.”

”How kind of them,” I said, ”but I really am too tired, Mrs Valetta.

The thought of tennis in my present state makes my spirit faint.”

She considered me thoughtfully, still through the mirror.

”_I_ think you will be foolish not to come. Mrs Skeffington-Smythe will tell all the men that it is because you are so burnt and blistered.

They will get quite a wrong impression of you.”

I answered cheerfully: ”They can get a fresh one when they see me. But do their impressions matter?”

This, for no earthly reason, annoyed her. She cast me a look of mingled irritation and curiosity which I received calmly. At twenty-one one can bear with a prepared heart the piercing scrutiny of ”something over thirty.”

”Oh, yes: you will find that they matter. One has rather a bad time in this country if the men don't like one.”

I could have told her that men always liked me, but it seemed brutal to inflict unnecessary pain.

”Really?”

”For one thing they have all the horses, and there is very little to do if one doesn't ride. But, of course, that won't affect you.”

”Oh, why?” said I, opening my eyes wide. ”I've brought a habit with me and I adore riding.”

I thought of ”Belle's” white feet and my own tingled to be in the stirrups.