South Africa is united in name, if not yet in reality, but the time will surely come, as we have said before, when, under the softening influence of time, a great united race will be born.
Closely pressing around Hansie as she writes are eager little faces, reverent little fingers touching the scattered pages before her, brave eyes of blue and brown, looking wonderingly into hers.
"Writing a book, mother? About the spies? And the lemon-juice? Oh, mother, what will the English say?"
And the accents falling on her ear are in the expressive sweetness of the South African Dutch, in its most cultured form.
Hansie ought to be a happy woman. None of the joys of life have been withheld from her, and yet—and yet——