This time, Ethel
heeded.
"What is it, Alice?"
"Do you remember that, this noon, we agreed not to mention the war?
These men fight almost without ceasing. When they aren't fighting,
they do sentry and stables and things. This is an afternoon off for
them. We really must talk accordingly."
"What are you and Captain Frazer talking about?"
"Cricket and seven-year locusts."
Ethel held out her empty cup.
"Very well. Then Mr. Weldon and I will discuss mosquitoes and seven-
day Baptists. No sugar, please, and I'd like another of those snappy
things."
"Does that mean a Mauser?" Weldon asked, as he brought back her cup.
"No. I mean biscuits, not cats. But you sinned then. However, my
cousin has her eye upon us, so we must be distinctly frivolous. Is
there any especially peaceful subject you would like to discuss?"
"Yes. Please explain your name."
She looked up at him with sudden literalness.
"It is for my grandmother. For four hundred years there has been an
Ethel Dent in every generation."
"I meant the other."
"Oh, Cooee?" She laughed. "It dates from our first coming out here,
when we were children. My old Kaffir nurse--I was only five, that
first trip--used to call me so, and every one took it up.
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