Then, suddenly, the vision changed. She saw him as she had seen him on that last night, when she had awaked to find him kneeling by her bed. And again that swift pang went through her. She did not ask herself again if he wanted her. The door of her room opened on to the yard. She heard Merston lead his horse up to the front of the bungalow and stand talking to his wife who was just inside. She knew that in a moment or two his cheery shout would come to her, calling for the note. Hastily she resumed her task. "If there is any mending to be done, send it back by Bill." Again she paused. Matilda was laughing at something her husband had said. It was only lately that she had begun to laugh. Almost immediately came an answering shout of laughter from Merston, and then his boyish yell to her. "Hi, Sylvia! How much longer are you going to keep me waiting for that precious love-letter?" She called an answer to him, dashing off final words as she did so. "I feel I am doing some good here, but if you should specially wish it, of course I will come back at any time." For a second more she hesitated, then simply wrote her name. Folding up the hurried scrawl, she was conscious of a strong sense of dissatisfaction, but she would not reopen it. There was nothing more to be said. She went out with it to Bill Merston, and met his chaff with careless laughter. "You haven't told him to come and fetch you away, I hope?" Matilda said, as he rode away. And she smiled and answered, "No, not unless he specially needs me." "You don't want to go ?" Matilda asked abruptly. "Not unless you are tired of me," Sylvia rejoined. "Don't be silly!" said Matilda briefly. Half an hour after Merston's departure there came the shambling trot of another horse, and Piet Vreiboom, slouched like a sack in the saddle rode up and rolled off at the door. "Oh, bother the man!" said Matilda, "I shan't ask him in with Bill away." The amiable Piet, however, did not wait to be asked. He fastened up his horse and rolled into the house with his hat on, where he gave her perfunctory greeting, grinned at Sylvia, and seated himself in the easiest chair he could find. Matilda's face of unconcealed disgust nearly provoked Sylvia to uncontrolled laughter, but she checked herself in time, and went to get the unwelcome visitor a drink in the hope of speeding his departure. Piet Vreiboom however was in no hurry, though they assured him repeatedly that Merston would probably not return for some hours. He sat squarely in his chair with his little greedy eyes fixed upon Sylvia, and merely grunted in response to all their efforts.