Very grimly Matilda Merston watched the departure of her unwelcome visitor, enduring the dust that rose from his horse’s hoofs with the patience of inflexible determination.  Then, when she had seen him go and the swirling dust had begun to settle again, she turned inwards and proceeded to wash the glass that the Boer had used with an expression of fixed disgust.

Suddenly she spoke.  “I shouldn’t believe anything that man said on oath.”

“Neither should I,” said Sylvia quietly.  She did not look up from her task, and Matilda Merston said no more.

There was a brief silence, then Sylvia spoke again.  “You are very good to me,” she said.

“My dear!” said Matilda almost sharply.

Sylvia’s hands were trembling a little, but she continued to occupy them.  “You must sometimes wonder why Guy is so much to me,” she said.  “I think it has been very sweet of you never to ask.  But I feel I should like to tell you about it.”

“Of course; if you want to,” said Matilda.

“I do want you to know,” Sylvia said, with slight effort.  “You have taken me so much on trust.  And I never even told you how I came to meet—­and marry—­Burke.”

“There was no necessity for you to tell me,” said Matilda.

“Perhaps not.  But you must have thought it rather sudden—­rather strange.”  Sylvia’s fingers moved a little more rapidly.  “You see, I came out here engaged to marry Guy.”

“Good gracious!” said Matilda.

Sylvia glanced up momentarily.  “We had been engaged for years.  We were engaged before he ever came here.  We—­loved each other.  But—­” Words failed her suddenly; she drew a short, hard breath and was silent.

“He let you down?” said Matilda.

She nodded.

Matilda’s face hardened.  “That was Burke’s doing.”

“No—­no!” Sylvia found her voice again with an effort.  “It isn’t fair to say that.  Burke tried to help him,—­has tried—­many times.  He may have been harsh to him; he may have made mistakes.  But I know he has tried to help him.”

“Was that why he married you?” asked Matilda, with a bitter curl of the lip.

Sylvia winced.  “No.  I—­don’t quite know what made him think of that.  Perhaps—­in a way—­he felt he ought.  I was thrown on his protection, and he never would believe that I was capable of fending for myself.”

“Very chivalrous!” commented Matilda.  “Men are like that.”

Sylvia shivered.  “Don’t—­please!  He—­has been very good to me.”

“In his own way,” said Matilda.

“No, in every way.  I can’t tell you how good till—­till Guy came back.  He brought him back to please me.”  Sylvia’s voice was low and distressed.  “That was when things began to go wrong,” she said.

“There was nothing very magnanimous in that,” commented Matilda.  “He wanted you to see poor Guy when he was down.  He wanted to give you a lesson so that you should realize your good luck in being married to him.  He didn’t count on the fact that you loved him.  He expected you to be disgusted.”