He did not compliment her on her singing. It was the obvious thing to do; but Dare seldom did the obvious. If he could have thanked her in his own way for the pleasure she had given, that would have been an altogether different matter. But his way was not consistent with twentieth-century customs, nor was it practicable in the case of a married woman in the company of her husband and friends. "I've been exploring your beautiful grounds, Mrs Arnott," he said. "What a delightful place you have here." "Yes; isn't it?" returned Pamela, with ingenuous pride in her home. "I'm so glad you like it. I love it." "I'm sure you must," he replied. "You must come and see the garden in the day time," she added graciously. "From the lawn the view of the mountain is very fine,--if you admire the mountain. I never tire of watching it. It adapts itself to one's mood. Or perhaps I should say its varying aspects affect one's mood. I sit out there and study it for hours at a stretch." "I should like to do that," he said. "Well, you shall, if you care to. I like to share my mountain." "Do you ever visit Johannesburg?" he asked. "I haven't been there yet." "You ought to," he said. "It is an interesting city. There are some nice homes there, too--and gardens." "You have a good garden, I suppose?" Pamela said. "You must have, because you appreciate them." "Ah! there are plenty of things which I appreciate that I haven't got," he replied. "I am a bachelor, and live at hotels--when I'm above ground," he added with a smile. "A fairly unenviable existence, eh?" "Why not change all that, and marry?" she suggested. He regarded her contemplatively for a second, and then looked deliberately away. "I don't fancy I belong to the marrying sort," he said. "Oh, nonsense!" returned Pamela brightly. "Every one is the marrying sort when he meets the right person." "Yes! Then I imagine the right person hasn't revealed herself." "You should go in search of her," she said. "I did once--five years ago." "Yes?" Pamela looked at him with a gleam of feminine interest in her deep eyes. "Five years ago you went in search of her... And then?..." "She had run away," he said, "and was married to some one else." "Oh!" Her voice had a disappointed ring. This that she was hearing was altogether the wrong kind of a finish to an interesting romance. "Then she wasn't the right person after all." "She was for me," he replied with quiet conviction. "But, you see, both sides have a voice in these matters." "But if she didn't care for you, she couldn't have been the right person," she insisted. "Believe me, the right person is waiting somewhere." "In that case," he said lightly, "when we meet I shall doubtless recognise her. I won't give her the chance to run away a second time. A man who is dilatory in his love affairs deserves to spend his days underground and his nights in hotels. I'm not complaining." Suddenly she laughed.