Her uncle, sitting back silently in his big arm-chair, with the quiet twinkle in his keen eyes, remarked, "And you will look like the principal boy at a pantomime."
"How heavenly!..." said outspoken Diana, and Aunt Emily raised her hands in horror.
It was on one of the last evenings before their final departure that William van Hert came from a quiet sea-side place above Durban to see them. He was taking a long rest there, after a strenuous parliamentary campaign, and only discovered through a belated newspaper that they had returned from England, and were contemplating a journey north. He immediately took a day's road journey to the nearest railway and departed for Johannesburg.
Diana saw him arrive, and executed a remarkable spring into the air, finished off with a little kick. "Oh, golly!..." she breathed. "Here's Dutch Willy come flying to the arms of his ladylove!"
Meryl looked up with swift, questioning eyes.
"Impossible!... He is down at M'genda."
"A little bird whispered, 'She, the fair one of many millions, has returned,' and straightway the thousand white arms of M'genda failed to hold him."
"Don't be spiteful, Di. Mr. van Hert cares nothing for anyone's millions. You know it well."
"I do; and for that reason he should be kept in a glass case. Still, he cares for a fair Englishwoman who has been—well, kind to him."
"He is interesting. Was there any special kindness in letting him know that I had the perspicacity to see it?" And they went downstairs together to receive him.