"After six months of the billy and the fryingpan, it is wonderfully
good to handle china again," he said, as he halted on the hearth rug
and stood smiling down at her.
She smiled back at him in full approval. Weldon looked very much the
lord of creation, as he stood there with his back to the fire and
one elbow resting on the mantel beside him. The position suited him,
and, speaking in quite another sense, it suited her also.
"Then a taste of civilization is pleasant now and then, even to a
grizzled warrior like yourself?" she questioned lightly.
"Yes, for the time being. One never knows, though, how long that
time being will last."
"What shall you do, when the war ends?"
"Go home, take up a share in the pater's business, and grow stout
and lazy," he answered her unsmilingly.
"An alluring prospect."
"Yes; but there will be other things: an occasional dinner, and even
a tea now and then."
Leaning back in her chair, she looked up at him through her long
yellow lashes.
"And shall you never remember to miss Africa?" she asked indolently.
His eyes rested upon her gravely.
"Yes, often. Moreover forgive my bluntness, but it is one of the
privileges of a soldier--moreover, Miss Dent, I shall miss you.
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