The sight of it seemed to take all the strength out of her. She
sat down on a rock to rest. All day long she had been forcing the
picture that Mrs. Merston had painted for her into the background
of her thoughts. All day long it had been pressing forward in
spite of her. It seemed to be burning her brain, and now she could
not ignore it any longer. Sitting there exhausted in mind and
body, she had to face it in all its crudeness. She had to meet and
somehow to conquer the sickening sensation of revolt that had come
upon her.
She sat there for a long time, till the sun sank low in the sky and
a wondrous purple glow spread across the _veldt_. She knew that it
was growing late, that Burke would be expecting her for the evening
meal, but she could not summon the strength she needed to end her
solitary vigil on the _kopje_. She had a feeling as of waiting for
something. Though she was too tired to pray, yet it seemed to her
that a message was on its way. She watched the glory in the west
with an aching intensity that possessed her to the exclusion of
aught beside. Somehow, even in the midst of her weariness and
depression, she felt sure that help would come.
The glory began to wane, and a freshness blew across the _veldt_.
Somewhere on the very top of the _kopje_ a bird uttered a
twittering note.
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