“Then it’s he! then it’s he!” said Tant Sannie triumphantly; “little Piet Vander Walt, whose wife died last month—two farms, twelve thousand sheep. I’ve not seen him, but my sister-in-law told me about him, and I dreamed about him last night.”
Here Piet’s black hat appeared in the doorway, and the Boer-woman drew herself up in dignified silence, extended the tips of her fingers, and motioned solemnly to a chair. The young man seated himself, sticking his feet as far under it as they would go, and said mildly:
“I am Little Piet Vander Walt, and my father is Big Piet Vander Walt.”
Tant Sannie said solemnly: “Yes.”
“Aunt,” said the young man, starting up spasmodically; “can I off-saddle?”
“Yes.”
He seized his hat, and disappeared with a rush through the door.
“I told you so! I knew it!” said Tant Sannie. “The dear Lord doesn’t send dreams for nothing. Didn’t I tell you this morning that I dreamed of a great beast like a sheep, with red eyes, and I killed it? Wasn’t the white wool his hair, and the red eyes his weak eyes, and my killing him meant marriage? Get supper ready quickly; the sheep’s inside and roaster-cakes. We shall sit up tonight.”
To young Piet Vander Walt that supper was a period of intense torture. There was something overawing in that assembly of English people, with their incomprehensible speech; and moreover, it was his first courtship; his first wife had courted him, and ten months of severe domestic rule had not raised his spirit nor courage. He ate little, and when he raised a morsel to his lips glanced guiltily round to see if he were not observed. He had put three rings on his little finger, with the intention of sticking it out stiffly when he raised a coffee-cup; now the little finger was curled miserably among its fellows. It was small relief when the meal was over, and Tant Sannie and he repaired to the front room. Once seated there, he set his knees close together, stood his black hat upon them, and wretchedly turned the brim up and down. But supper had cheered Tant Sannie, who found it impossible longer to maintain that decorous silence, and whose heart yearned over the youth.
“I was related to your aunt Selena who died,” said Tant Sannie. “My mother’s stepbrother’s child was married to her father’s brother’s stepnephew’s niece.”