"See what a bad nurse I make," she said, assuming a lighter manner. "I would starve you while I attempt to show you the error of your ways. It would appear that where you are concerned I must fail in everything." She brought the cup to the bedside. He took it from her hand and drained the contents eagerly. "You were famished," she said reproachfully. "Yet you wouldn't ask me for food." "I hate to give so much trouble," he answered. "If you wouldn't mind calling Butter Tom presently, I will get up and dress with his assistance. It's all humbug, my lying here, and taking slops. I could eat an ox." "I'll dress your wound first," she said. "That is something I can do for you better than Butter Tom." "You dressed it before?" he asked. "I wondered. I thought possibly I owed that to you. Honor..." He looked at her appealingly. "You are not going to let us part with a sense of ill will between us? I want to believe that when I am gone you will sometimes think kindly of me." Honor did not at once reply. She stood With the empty cup in her hand, the sunlight warming her face, shining on the white surface of the vessel into which she gazed in thoughtful abstraction, brightening her whole figure, and the room which formed a quaint and fitting background for this girl who belonged to the wilds, and whose beauty suggested always to the man who watched her sunlit spaces and warmth and the scent and the winds of the veld. She lifted her gaze suddenly and met his _eyes_. "Don't let us talk of these matters," she said. "It is wiser with the coming of morning to cease to dwell on the dreams which belong to the night that is past. I've dreamed my dreams--you too. We are awake now, and the day calls us to other activities. Just for a moment while sleep drugged our senses we forgot. But we are neither of us people who forget for long the path of honour." His gaze fell before her steady eyes. She was right. Their paths in life were no tractless ways; they stretched straight ahead, clearly defined and mile-stoned with duties, leading always in opposite directions to the accepted goal--the goal of individual endeavour which contributes its effort to the unending scheme of life. CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.