When next she looked back, she saw the house against the gray sky, solitary and little, with all the Karoo for its background. It looked unsubstantial and vague, as though a mirage were left over from the months of sun, to be the abode of troubles and perplexities that would soon be dim and remote also. Paul pulled his horses to a standstill that she might see better; but even at that moment fresh rain drummed on the hood of the cart and came threshing about them, blotting the house from view.
"That 's the last of it, Paul," said Margaret. "No more looking back now."
Paul smiled slowly and presently found words.
"When we come to the station," he said, "I will find a Kafir to hold the horses and I will take you to the train. But I will not say much good-by."
"Why not?" inquired Margaret.
"Because soon I am coming to London too," he answered happily, "and I will see you there."
Mr. Samson and Ford were the last to reënter the house. The Kafir had gone off unnoticed, saying nothing; and Mrs. Jakes could not escape the conversational attentions of Mrs. du Preez and was suffering in the drawing-room. The two men stayed to watch the cart till the rain swept in and hid it. Then Mr. Samson resumed his threatful glare at Ford.
"Look here," he said formidably. "What d'you mean by your dashed cheek? Eh?"
"Sorry," said Ford calmly.
Mr. Samson snorted. "Are you?" he said. "Well—all right!"