“Tell the man to stop talking about money and rank after his godless English manner.  I wish to inquire of his character and religion.”  And so she did clearly and at length, but I do not think that I need set down her questions or his answers.

At last, when we were both overwhelmed and gasping for breath, I refused flatly to ask anything more, whereon she ceased her examinations, saying: 

“Well, if he speaks the truth, which is doubtful, he does not seem to be any worse than other men, though that is saying little enough.  Is he sound in wind and limb, and what illnesses has he had?”

“You must ask him yourself,” I replied, losing patience, whereon she called me a “mealy-mouthed little fool” and laughed.  Then of a sudden she said, “Kneel, both of you,” and, strange as it may seem, we obeyed her, for we, and especially Ralph, were afraid of the old lady.  Yes, there we knelt on the stoep before her, while a Kaffir girl stood outside and stared with her mouth open.

“Ralph Kenzie,” she said, “whatever else you may be, at least you are an honest man like your grandfather before you, for were it not so you would never have come to tell this child that your fortune is her fortune, and your title her title, though whether this be the case or not, I neither know nor care, since at least you are of the blood of my long-dead adopted son, and that is more to me than any wealth or rank.

“As for you, Suzanne, you are pert and deceitful, for you have kept secret from me that which I had a right to learn; also you have too good an opinion of your own looks, which as I tell you now for the last time, are nothing compared to mine at your age, or even to those of my daughter Suzanne, your grandmother.  But this I will say, you have a good heart and some of the spirit of your forbears, therefore”—­and she laid one of her heavy hands on the head of each of us—­“I, old Suzanne Botmar, bless you both.  You shall be married next week, and may you be happy in your marriage, and have children that would be a credit to me and your great-grandfather, could we have lived to see them.

“There, there, Ralph and Suzanne—­the first ones, my own lost Ralph and Suzanne—­will be glad to hear of this when I come to tell them of it, as I shall do shortly.  Yes, they will be glad to hear of it—­” and she rose and hobbled back to the sit-kammer, turning at the open door to call out: 

“Girl, where are your manners?  Make that Scotchman some of your coffee.”

So we were married, and within the week, for, all my protestations notwithstanding, the Vrouw Botmar would suffer no delay.  Moreover, by means of some other interpreter, Ralph, playing traitor, secretly brought my arguments to nothing, and indeed there was a cause for hurry, for just then his regiment was ordered to return to England.