“Then you will stay in bed?” said Burke.
“Very well; if I must,” she conceded.
He turned to go; then abruptly turned back. “And you won’t lie and worry? You’ve too much pluck for that.”
She smiled again—a quivering, difficult smile. “I am not at all plucky, really. I am only pretending.”
He smiled back at her suddenly. “You’re a brick! I’ve never seen any woman stand up to hard knocks as you do. They generally want to be carried over the rough places. But you—you stand on your feet.”
The genuine approbation of his voice brought the colour back to her face. His smile too, though it reminded her piercingly of Guy, sent a glow of comfort to her chilled and trembling heart.
“I want to if I can,” she said. “But I’ve had rather a—knock-out this time. I shall be all right presently, when I’ve had time to pull myself together.”
He bent abruptly and laid his hand upon hers.
“Look here!” he said. “Don’t worry!”
She lifted clear eyes to his. “No—I won’t! There is always a way out of every difficulty, isn’t there?”
“There certainly is out of this one,” he said.
“I’ll show it you presently—if you’ll promise not to be offended.”
“Offended!” said Sylvia. “That isn’t very likely, is it?”
“I don’t know,” said Burke. “I hope not. Good-bye!” He straightened himself, stood a moment looking down at her, then turned finally and left her.
There was something in the manner of his going that made her wonder.
The entrance of the old Kaffir woman a few minutes later diverted her thoughts. She found Mary Ann an interesting study, being the first of her kind that she had viewed at close quarters. She was very stout and ungainly. She moved with elephantine clumsiness, but her desire to please was so evident that Sylvia could not regard her as wholly without charm. Her dog-like amiability outweighed her hideousness. She found it somewhat difficult to understand Mary Ann’s speech, for it was more like the chattering of a monkey than human articulation, and being very weary she did not encourage her to talk.
There was so much to think about, and for a while her tired brain revolved around Guy and all that his departure meant to her. She tried to take a practical view of the situation, to grapple with the difficulties that confronted her. Was there the smallest chance of his return? And even if he returned, what could it mean to her? Would it help her in any way? It was impossible to evade the answer to that question. He had failed her finally. She was stranded in a strange land and only her own efforts could avail her now.
She wondered if Burke would urge her to return to her father’s house. If so, he would not succeed. She would face any hardship sooner than that. She was not afraid of work. She would make a living for herself somehow if she worked in the fields with Kaffir women. She would be independent or die in the attempt. After all, she reflected forlornly, it would not matter very much to anyone if she did die. She stood or fell alone.