“Oh, do let us outspan in the veldt,” answered Lilian, gleefully. “The drive is lovely, and a picnic in the middle of it will be quite the right thing.”
“Of course it will—or rather two picnics, for we shall have to outspan again. Look, we don’t lose much by giving that barracoon the go-by,” he went on, as they passed the edifice in question. “Goat chops very tough, pumpkin and rice, and Cape sherry, are about the only items in its bill of fare, I venture to predict.”
“Horrible!” declared Lilian, with a laughing grimace.
They drove on a little farther, and halted in a beautiful spot, by a pool of clear, but brackish water, thickly overhung with bush and trailing plants, where Lilian was delighted with the colony of pendulous finks’ nests swaying to and fro as their startled occupants dashed in and out, chirping volubly. Claverton took the horses to the water, then knee-haltered and allowed them to roll while he placed on the ground one of the couple of bundles of oat-hay which were carried in the buggy for their benefit. Then he returned to his charge.
“I must apologise, Miss Strange. The rule of the veldt is not that of society. Here it is, ‘horses first.’”
He spread the wraps, which kind, thoughtful Mrs Brathwaite had sent for Lilian’s use, under a shady tree, making her a comfortable seat. Then he unearthed the commissariat, of which the staple articles were a chicken and a bottle of Moselle.
“But this is far too luxurious,” protested Lilian, her beautiful face sparkling with animation. She was thoroughly enjoying the unconventionally of the whole thing. “I declare it does not seem like camping in the bush if we are to revel in luxury.”
“Take it easy while you can. That’s the secret of true philosophy. The goat chops and pumpkin and rice will come, all in good time.”
She laughed gaily. Then she threw off her large straw hat, and pushed up her dark hair as if to ease it of the weight. Not a detail of the movement or its effect escaped her companion. He had not yet seen her without her hat. It is surprising what a difference this outdoor appendage makes in the appearance of some women. He noted, without surprise, that Lilian Strange looked equally beautiful either way.
“Mr Claverton, why don’t you smoke?” she asked, as, having lunched, there was a dreamy pause in the conversation.