Whether as a result of the talk with Macfarlane, or the expiration of Aplin's leave and his departure for Algoa Bay, Matheson's visits to the Rondebosch household fell off in regularity. He went out for tennis when the mood inclined him, and on occasions still met the two girls at the cafe in the luncheon recess and ate ices with them. It was a somewhat remarkable coincidence that they were so often in the vicinity of the cafe he frequented at the same hour as himself; it was always an accident, and so unexpected. He came in time to look for them, and evolved a formula in response to their surprised exclamations. There were even times when he experienced a faint disappointment if they failed to appear. There were other times when, disinclined for their chatter, he dropped into a less fashionable cafe nearer his work and took his iced coffee in solitary enjoyment. They detected him immediately upon his new discovery diving into the small cafe, and followed him, and were "so surprised" when they met within to see that he too patronised this nice quiet little place. "It's so restful," said Rosie audibly, as they seated themselves at his suggestion at the same table. "And really the things they give you are quite good. How did you come to find it out?" "It's handy for me, you see," he explained. "I can't always get off at this hour, and often I have only ten minutes. When time is limited I bolt in here." He did not consider it necessary to admit that it was only the second time he had visited the cafe. "I like to try the different places," he added, with a view to future evasion. "The girls' dresses are pretty," observed May, looking after the neat Puritan figure of the waitress who had served them. "They suggest the chorus in a revue." "I dare say Mr Matheson considers that one of the attractions of the place," Rosie threw in with a touch of malice. Matheson, who had not as a matter of fact taken particular note of the waitresses, glanced after a tall blonde girl who passed their table carrying a trayful of American drinks, and laughed. "I think they look jolly fine," he said. May looked about her, nibbling an ice wafer. "I wouldn't mind being a waitress in a cafe. They don't have half a bad time," she averred. "May!" Her sister appeared horrified. "The things men say to them... And imagine taking tips!" "I'd like the tips all right," May declared, and caught Matheson's eye and smiled. "And it's just fascinating squirting drinks out of those syphons. It makes one cool to watch. Besides, I'd like going about in fancy dress all day, and wearing a dinky little cap. How do you think I'd lode in one of those Puritan caps, Mr Matheson?" "I think you would look sufficiently attractive to be sure of your tips," he answered. "Flatterer!" she exclaimed, and laughed. "I shouldn't look puritanical anyhow." "No," he rejoined. "I don't believe you could."