For a week Matheson remained in Cape Town awaiting Holman's convenience. He was in no hurry to leave. He felt neither interest nor curiosity in his mission; the only emotion he experienced in regard to it was an impatient desire to have it behind instead of hanging perpetually over him, to fulfil his undertaking, and be done with the whole thing and thus be free of further obligation. The necessity for doing something altogether repugnant to him incensed him against the man who had imposed the condition, and who was formerly his friend. He resented the thing as though it had been a trick. In a way it had been a trick. He apprehended that without following the purpose of the stratagem. He had undertaken a questionable mission at the request of a man against whose interest it was to be detected in connection with the matter. The whole thing was ridiculous; but it was as imperative of discharge as any other debt of honour incurred at the option of the individual. Having agreed to the stake, it was impossible now to draw back. During the week of compulsory inactivity in Cape Town he pursued with considerable diligence the congenial pastime of cultivating the acquaintance so recently begun, which on the night of that first walk had leaped forward with astonishing rapidity, clearing the conventional obstacles that intrude on new acquaintanceship, and arriving at something more nearly resembling an intimate comradeship than anything he had ever experienced in relation to feminine friendship. The novelty of the thing, as much as the undeniable enjoyment he derived from the girl's society, pleased him. The waiting about was not irksome when Brenda Upton was there to fit into the blanks. But Brenda was not always available. During the next two days Mrs Graham remained indisposed; and her companion was therefore free to spend most of the day, and all the evening, in any way she inclined towards. Never before had Matheson taken satisfaction in a woman's headaches; nor would he have believed it possible that the sufferer's recovery on the third day could have caused him such real disappointment. He would cheerfully have confined her to her room for a week. With Mrs Graham about again the meetings were uncertain and hurried, and the after-dinner walks ceased altogether. Matheson rebelled against this. "You can get away if you want to," he asserted unreasonably. "She couldn't refuse to let you off for an hour if you asked." "Do you really believe that I don't want to?" she asked. "If you only knew how much more they mean to me than they can to you--these walks! ... It's out of the question, anyhow."