FULLERTON'S MOVE. A light mule-waggon stood at Fullerton's door. By the time the process of loading it--now begun--was completed it would no longer be a light waggon. Before that stage was attained, however, Fullerton was making nasty remarks on the wholly unnecessary quantity of baggage without which lovely woman professes herself unable to move--at least his spouse pronounced them to be nasty, and, of course, she ought to know. "Do stand up for us, Mr Wyndham," she appealed. "Wouldn't be fair. You're two to one as it is," answered Wyndham, tugging at a refractory strap, for he was engaged in harnessing the mules. "Oh, here--I say, Clare. We haven't got a traction engine to move this outfit," grumbled Fullerton, as his sister-in-law appeared, together with another quite exasperating bundle. "No we haven't. Only mules." "It's all right, Dick. Put that in somewhere," was the serene answer. "Only, don't squash it more than you can help, because there are things in it that'll spoil." Fullerton grunted, and the work of packing and stowing went on, the bulkier and heavier articles of baggage having been fastened on behind with reins. "That's all right," said Wyndham, looking up from the last buckle. "Now I think we can all get in." It had taken some little while and a great deal of importunity to bring Richard Fullerton round to the Buluwayo scheme, and even then his womenkind had given every reason but the real one for wanting to go there. He was endowed with his full share of obstinacy; however, he came round at last. At last! Just so. A great deal was destined to turn upon those two monosyllables. "You take the lines first stage, Fullerton, or shall I?" asked Wyndham, the outfit being, in fact, his property. On hearing of the Fullertons' projected move he had immediately proffered it, and volunteered to drive them himself. Such an opportunity of being in Clare's society for three whole days was one not to be thrown away, and of showing to advantage before her during the time, for he was a first-rate whip. Fullerton was not. "Er--you'd better tool us, I think," said the latter. "I might be able to drive four-in-hand, but I believe I'd be rather out of it with eight." "Oh, it's just as easy. Still--do as you like." And Wyndham, climbing to his seat, took the reins, and away went the team at a brisk trot. It was a lovely morning, but inclined to be hot, and as they topped the mimosa-studded rise, and in a minute Gandela was shut out of sight behind them, there was a sense of exhilaration permeating the whole party which promised that the trip was likely to prove an enjoyable one. "Well, Lucy," said Fullerton, expanding accordingly, "I believe I'm rather glad you two girls persuaded me into this run. A spell at the Buluwayo Club will come in first-rate. You get rather sick of a poky little hole like Gandela."