She almost said as much in the next, breath as he did not remove his hand. "Why don"t you go and shoot something? There"s plenty of time before supper."
"What"s the matter?" said Burke.
"Nothing," she returned, trying to remove her work from his grasp.
"Nothing!" he echoed. "Then why am I told not to be silly, not to hinder you, and to go and shoot something?"
Sylvia sat up in her chair, and faced him. "If you must have it--I think you"ve been--rather brutal," she said, lifting her clear eyes to his. "No doubt you had plenty of excuse, but that doesn"t really justify you. At least--I don"t think so."
He met her look in his usual direct fashion. Those eagle eyes of his sent a little tremor through her. There was a caged fierceness about them that strangely stirred her.
He spoke after the briefest pause with absolute gentleness. "All right, little pal! It"s decent of you to put it like that. You"re quite wrong, but that"s a detail. You"ll change your views when you"ve been in the country a little longer. Now forget it, and come for a ride!"
It was disarmingly kind, and Sylvia softened in spite of herself.
She put her hand on his arm. "Burke, you won"t do it again?" she said.
He smiled a little. "It won"t be necessary for some time to come.
If you did the same to Fair Rosamond now and then you would marvellously improve her. Idle little cuss!"
"I never shall," said Sylvia with emphasis.
He heaved a sigh. "Then I shall have to kick her out I suppose. I can see she is wearing your temper to a fine edge."
She bit her lip for a second, and then laughed. "Oh, go away, do?
You"re very horrid. Rose may be trying sometimes, but I can put up with her."
"You can"t manage her," said Burke.
"Anyway, you are not to interfere," she returned with spirit.
"That"s my department."
He abandoned the discussion. "Well, I leave it to you, partner.
You"re not to sit here mending shirts anyhow. I draw the line at that."
Sylvia"s delicate chin became suddenly firm. "I never leave a thing unfinished," she said. "You will have to ride alone this evening."
"I refuse," said Burke.
She opened her eyes wide. "Really"--she began.
"Yes, really," he said. "Put the thing away! It"s a sheer fad to mend it at all. I don"t care what I wear, and I"m sure you don"t."
"But I do," she protested. "You must be respectable."
"But I am respectable--whatever I wear," argued Burke. "It"s my main characteristic."
His brown hand began to draw the garment in dispute away from her, but Sylvia held it tight.
Burke, don"t--please--be tiresome! Every woman mends her husband"s clothes if there is no one else to do it. I want to do it. There!"
"You don"t like doing it!" he challenged.
"It"s my duty," she maintained.
He gave her an odd look. "And do you always do--your duty?"
"I try to," she said.
"Always?" he insisted.
Something in his eyes gave her pause. She wanted to turn her own aside, but could not. "To--to the best of my ability," she stammered.
He looked ironical for an instant, and then abruptly he laughed and released her work. "Bless your funny little heart!" he said. "Peg away, if you want to! It looks rather as if you"re starting at the wrong end, but, being a woman, no doubt you will get there eventually."
That pierced her. It was Guy--Guy in the flesh--tenderly taunting her with some feminine weakness. So swift and so sharp was the pain that she could not hide it. She bent her face over her work with a quick intake of the breath.
"Why--Sylvia!" he said, bending over her.
She drew away from him. "Don"t--please! I--I am foolish.
Don"t--take any notice!"
He stood up again, but his hand found her shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. "What is it, partner? Tell a fellow!" he urged, his tone an odd mixture of familiarity and constraint.
She fought with herself, and at last told him. "You--you--you were so like--Guy--just then."
"Oh, d.a.m.n Guy!" he said lightly. "I am much more like myself at all times. Cheer up, partner! Don"t cry for the moon!"
She commanded herself and looked up at him with a quivering smile.
"It is rather idiotic, isn"t it? And ungrateful too. You are very good not to lose patience."
"Oh, I am very patient," said Burke with a certain grimness. "But look here! Must you mend that shirt? I"ve got another somewhere."
Her smile turned to a laugh. She sprang up with a lithe, impulsive movement, "Come along then! Let"s go! I don"t know why you want to be bothered with me, I"m sure. But I"ll come."
She took him by the arm and went with him from the room.
They rode out across Burke"s land. The day had been one of burning heat. Sylvia turned instinctively towards the _kopje_ that always attracted her. It had an air of aloofness that drew her fancy. "I must climb that very early some morning," she said, "in time for the sunrise."
"It will mean literal climbing," said Burke. "It"s too steep for a horse."
"Oh, I don"t mind that," she said. "I have a steady head. But I want to get round it tonight. I"ve never been round it yet. What is there on the other side?"
"_Veldt_," he said.
She made a face. And then _veldt_--and then _veldt_. Plenty of nice, sandy karoo where all the sand-storms come from! But there are always the hills beyond. I am going to explore them some day."
"May I come too?" he said.
She smiled at him. "Of course, partner. We will have a castle right at the top of the world, shall we? There will be mountain gorges and great torrents, and ferns and rhododendrons everywhere.