It was a definite command. She lifted her eyes, but the instant they met his that overwhelming confusion came upon her again. His gaze was so intent, so searching. All her defences seemed to go down before it. Her lip suddenly quivered, and she turned her face aside. "Be--kind to me, Burke!" she said, under her breath. He let her go; but he stood motionless for some seconds after as if debating some point with himself. She went to the window and nervously straightened the curtain. After a considerable pause his voice came to her there. "I want you to rest this afternoon, and ride over with me to the Merstons after tea. Will you do that?" She turned sharply. "And leave Guy? Oh, no!" Across the room she met his look, and she saw that he meant to have his way. "I wish it," he said. She came slowly back to him. "Burke,--please! I can't do that. It wouldn't be right. We can't leave Guy to the Kaffirs." "Guy can look after himself," he reiterated. "You have done enough--too much--in that line already. He doesn't need you with him all daylong." She shook her head. "I think he needs--someone. It wouldn't be right--I know it wouldn't be right to leave him quite alone. Besides, the Merstons won't want me. Why should I go?" "Because I wish it," he said again. And, after a moment, as she stood silent, "Doesn't that count with you?" She looked up at him quickly, caught by something in his tone, "Of course your wishes count with me!" she said. "You know they do. But all the same--" She paused, searching for words. "Guy comes first," he suggested, in the casual voice of one stating an acknowledged fact. She felt the hot colour rise to her temples. "Oh, it isn't fair of you to say that!" she said. "Isn't it true?" said Burke. She collected herself to answer him. "It is only because his need has been so great. If we had not put him first--before everything else--we should never have saved him." "And now that he is saved," Burke said, a faint ring of irony in his voice, "isn't it almost time to begin to consider--other needs? Do you know you are looking very ill?" He asked the question abruptly, so abruptly that she started. Her nerves were on edge that day. "Am I? No, I didn't know. It isn't serious anyway. Please don't bother about that!" He smiled faintly. "I've got to bother. If you don't improve very quickly, I shall take you to Brennerstadt to see a decent doctor there." "Oh, don't be absurd!" she said, with quick annoyance. "I'm not going to do anything so silly." He put his hand on her arm. "Sylvia, I've got something to say to you," he said. She made a slight movement as if his touch were unwelcome. "Well? What is it?" she said. "Only this." He spoke very steadily, but while he spoke his hand closed upon her. You've gone your own way so far, and it hasn't been specially good for you. That's why I'm going to pull you up now, and make you go mine."