She turned towards him, put out one hand, and laid it on his.
"It was you who saved me; you delivered my soul from the snare of the hunter," she said. "If Mestaer let me go, you were the only man that could have persuaded him. You know it; we need not discuss it. What I want you to tell me is, whether you have seen or heard anything of him; whether he is alive or dead."
"He was certainly alive when I left Africa. He did splendidly during the war. I believe he is considered the finest scout in the British army. I feel sure I may take it upon myself to say, on his behalf, that he will never make himself obnoxious to you. You need be in no fear of him."
"He has forgotten all that nonsense about me?"
"I don't exactly know what you mean by nonsense, Millie. If you mean his love for you, I don't think I can truly say that he has forgotten."
She made a little sound of dismay.
"But he is in process of forgetting—he must be!" she cried. "Anyhow, he doesn't expect me to start off to Africa to keep the promise he says I made?"
"Nothing could be farther from his thoughts, I assure you."
"Well, that is what I wanted to be sure of! Now I shall breathe freely again. I will confess to you now, that I had a terrible moment this evening. Mater said Mr. Burmester had come home, and laughed and asked me to guess who was with him! I leaped to the conclusion that it was Bert Mestaer, and I suddenly found myself in the grip of a blind terror. I thought I should faint, all the horror of that dreadful time came back so clearly. I don't think I could have faced him...."
But Lance was no longer to be held back. He broke away from his captors, and came towards Millie, calling for a song. Captain Brooke, who still stood forlorn and rigid by the piano, leaning his chin on his hand, was roughly pushed away. Melicent sat down without shyness, and sang two or three ballads in a voice that—like herself—was small and flexible and very distinctive. The last thing she sang was that wonderful little piece of inspiration,