At first she had been rather afraid of him, and felt shy and awkward when he came to see them; but Billy's attitude of jovial good fellowship, in no way repulsed by the other's cold reserve, had helped to reassure her, and now they both appeared unconscious of any lack of warmth in their visitor. If he liked to be silent he could, and if he seemed in a taciturn mood they took no notice.
When he called for his horse to return he said good-bye to her before mounting, and spoke of not coming again for a fortnight, and she watched him ride away regretfully. Evidently he did not mean to be sociable, even to the lady travellers, and it was no use hoping anything for him.
In the meantime, the first ambulance, containing Meryl and Diana, arrived at the ruins. Mr. Pym was detained in Edwardstown with his engineer, and might not join them until the next day, but the girls begged him to let them go on, longing to be out in the open again, away from hotels and bungalows.
So a police-boy from the town camp was sent on to escort them, and the Zimbabwe camp notified by runner of their approach. Stanley opened the letter in the absence of his chief, and much to his own delectation, was waiting alone to receive them upon the chosen camping-ground on their arrival. Diana saw him first, and remarked joyfully that he was white.
"Hooroosh!..." said she, "there's a man as well as ruins." And a little later, "I'm afraid he's only a boy, but he looks a nice boy, and there are occasions when the 'half a loaf' proverb applies to 'half a man.'"
Then he helped her out of the ambulance after receiving them with a grave salute, and regretted that, in the absence of Major Carew, there was no one but himself to receive them. He was evidently a trifle shy and embarrassed, stammering a little as he offered his services to superintend the pitching of their camp, with eyes that would wander from the elder cousin to Diana's small, impish, alluring face.
"Have some tea with us first," said she. "We've already acquired a few Rhodesian vices, such as an unlimited capacity for tea-drinking, and Gelungwa can make quite a decent apology for the beverage which cheers but not inebriates."
They sat down, and laughed and chatted together until the kettle boiled, and before the tea was finished The Kid had fallen in love with both, and was congratulating himself that Carew had taken that afternoon ride. Then the girls said they would ramble while their tent was pitched, but disagreed as to which direction they would take first. Meryl had left her little guide-book with her father, and wanted to postpone the temple until she had it. Diana said it was too hot to attempt the Acropolis Hill. In the end they separated. Meryl strolled towards the Acropolis and Diana sought the cool shadiness of the temple.
About the same time Carew started his homeward ride, and when he reached the base of the Acropolis Hill he gave his horse to the runner who had gone with him to carry some books for Ailsa Grenville, and climbed a little way into the hill to remark a point of investigation he had been discussing with Grenville; and, quite suddenly, round a sharp piece of masonry, he came upon Meryl Pym. She wore a large, shady hat, and she was standing quite still, gazing across the country. For a moment Carew stood quite still also. It was odd that she had not heard his steps upon the rough footpath, but apparently she was too absorbed to hear anything at all. He was exceedingly relieved and drew aside stealthily, prepared to return quickly the way he had come. But before he started he glanced once more, for something in her quiet pose struck oddly upon his heart. She looked very slim and graceful and girlish in a simple washing frock of some soft grey material, with little Quakerish cuffs and collar, and the big, shady hat tied on with a ribbon. And all in a moment he was transported years before, and there was a Devonshire wood, and a slim lassie, and little Quakerish cuffs and collar, and eyes that watched and waited—watched and waited for him.
And then....