'I don't think you mentioned this Mr. Markham's name to me, Dolly,' said Colonel Gerald as they returned to Mowbray. 'I don't think I did, papa; but you see he had gone ashore when I came on deck to you this morning, and I did not suppose we should ever meet again.' 'I hope you do not object to my asking him to dinner, dear?' 'I object, papa? Oh, no, no; I never felt so glad at anything. He does not talk affectedly like Mr. Glaston, nor cleverly like Mr. Harwood, so I prefer him to either of them. And then, think of his being for a week tossing about the Atlantic upon that wreck.' 'All very good reasons for asking him to dine to-morrow,' said her father. 'Now suppose we try a trot.' 'I would rather walk if it is the same to you, papa,' she said. 'I don't feel equal to another trot now.' 'Why, surely, you have not allowed yourself to become tired, Daireen? Yes, my dear, you look it. I should have remembered that you are just off the sea. We will go gently home, and you will get a good sleep.' They did go very gently, and silently too, and in a short time Daireen was lying on her bed, thinking not of the strange moonlight wonders of her ride, but of that five minutes spent upon the avenue of Australian oaks down which had echoed that song. It seemed that poor Mrs. Crawford was destined to have enigmas of the most various sorts thrust upon her for her solution; at any rate she regarded the presence of Mr. Oswin Markham at Colonel Crawford's little dinner the next, evening as a question as puzzling as the mysterious appearance of the young man called Standish MacDermot. She, however, chatted with Mr. Markham as usual, and learned that he also was going to a certain garden party which was to be held at Government House in a few days. 'And you will come too, Daireen?' she said. 'You must come, for Mr. Glaston has been so good as to promise to exhibit in one of the rooms a few of his pictures he spoke to us about. How kind of him, isn't it, to try and educate the taste of the colony?' The bishop has not yet arrived at the Cape, but Mr. Glaston says he will wait for him for a fortnight.' 'For a fortnight? Such filial devotion will no doubt bring its own reward,' said Mr. Harwood. CHAPTER XXII. Being remiss, Most generous and free from all contriving. A heart unfortified, An understanding simple and unschooled. A violet in the youth of primy nature. O'tis most sweet When in one line two crafts directly meet. Soft,--let me see:-- We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings.--_Hamlet._