“However,” he said, as if to prove his own density, “I am selfishly very glad that you had to come back sooner. Not only on account of the delicacies--I must ask you to believe that. Did my eye brighten at the mention of Fortnum and Mason? I am afraid it did.” She laughed softly. She did not pause to think that it was to be her daily task to tend him and help to make him stronger in order that he might go away without delay. She only knew that every moment of the next few weeks was going to be full of a greater happiness than she had ever tasted. As we get deeper into the slough of life most of us learn to be thankful that the future is hidden--some of us recognise the wisdom and the mercy which decree that even the present be only partly revealed. “As a matter of fact,” she said lightly, “I suppose that you loathe all food?” “Loathe it,” he replied. He was still looking at her, as if in enjoyment of the Englishness and freshness of which he had spoken. “Simply loathe it. All Joseph's tact and patience are required to make me eat even eleven meals in the day. He would like thirteen.” At this moment Maurice came in--Maurice--hearty, eager, full of life. He blustered in almost as Joseph had prophesied, kicking the furniture, throwing his own vitality into the atmosphere. Jocelyn knew that he liked Jack Meredith--and she knew more. She knew, namely, that Maurice Gordon was a different man when Jack Meredith was in Loango. From Meredith's presence he seemed to gather a sense of security and comfort even as she did--a sense which in herself she understood (for women analyse love), but which in her brother puzzled her. “Well, old chap,” said Maurice, “glad to see you. I AM glad to see you. Thank Heaven you were bowled over by that confounded malaria, for otherwise we should have missed you.” “That is one way of looking at it,” answered Meredith. But he did not go so far as to say that it was a way which had not previously suggested itself to him. “Of course it is. The best way, I take it. Well--how do you feel? Come, you don't look so bad.” “Oh--much better, thanks. I have got on splendidly the last week, and better still the last five minutes! The worst of it is that I shall be getting well too soon and shall have to be off.” “Home?” inquired Maurice significantly. Jocelyn moved uneasily. “Yes, home.” “We don't often hear people say that they are sorry to leave Loango,” said Maurice. “_I_ will oblige you whenever you are taken with the desire,” answered Jack lightly; “Loango has been a very good friend to me. But I am afraid there is no choice. The doctor speaks very plain words about it. Besides, I am bound to go home.” “To sell the Simiacine?” inquired Maurice. “Yes.” “Have you the second crop with you?” “Yes.” “And the trees have improved under cultivation?” “Yes,” answered Jack rather wonderingly. “You seem to know a lot about it.” “Of course I do,” replied Maurice boisterously. “From Durnovo?”