That old gentleman’s neck is in some kind of a noose, thought I to myself, and his difficulty is to prevent the rope from being drawn tight.  Meanwhile this poor girl’s happiness and future are at stake.

“Allan,” said Anscombe to me a little later, for by now he called me by my Christian name, “I suppose you haven’t heard anything about those oxen, have you?”

“No, I could scarcely expect to yet, but why do you ask?”

He smiled in his droll fashion and replied, “Because, interesting as this household is in sundry ways, I think it is about time that we, or at any rate that I, got out of it.”

“Your leg isn’t fit to travel yet, Anscombe, although Rodd says that all the symptoms are very satisfactory.”

“Yes, but to tell you the truth I am experiencing other symptoms quite unknown to that beloved physician and so unfamiliar to myself that I attribute them to the influences of the locality.  Altitude affects the heart, does it not, and this house stands high.”

“Don’t play off your jokes on me,” I said sternly.  “What do you mean?”

“I wonder if you find Miss Heda attractive, Allan, or if you are too old.  I believe there comes an age when the only beauties that can move a man are those of architecture, or scenery, or properly cooked food.”

“Hang it all!  I am not Methusaleh,” I replied; “but if you mean that you are falling in love with Heda, why the deuce don’t you say so, instead of wasting my time and your own?”

“Because time was given to us to waste.  Properly considered it is the best use to which it can be put, or at any rate the one that does least mischief.  Also because I wished to make you say it for me that I might judge from the effect of your words whether it is or is not true.  I may add that I fear the former to be the case.”

“Well, if you are in love with the girl you can’t expect one so ancient as myself, who is quite out of touch with such follies, to teach you how to act.”

“No, Allan.  Unfortunately there are occasions when one must rely upon one’s own wisdom, and mine, what there is of it, tells me I had better get out of this.  But I can’t ride even if I took the horse and you ran behind, and the oxen haven’t come.”

“Perhaps you could borrow Miss Marnham’s cart in which to run away from her,” I suggested sarcastically.

“Perhaps, though I believe it would be fatal to my foot to sit up in a cart for the next few days, and the horses seem to have been sent off somewhere.  Look here, old fellow,” he went on, dropping his bantering tone, “it’s rather awkward to make a fool of oneself over a lady who is engaged to some one else, especially if one suspects that with a little encouragement she might begin to walk the same road.  The truth is I have taken the fever pretty bad, worse than ever I did before, and if it isn’t stopped soon it will become chronic.”

“Oh no, Anscombe, only intermittent at the worst, and African malaria nearly always yields to a change of climate.”