Carl's eyes narrowed a little.

'You're really thinking about Ray,' he accused. 'You love him, so you can't imagine yourself being made love to by another man. But, Sara,' he went on deliberately, 'you can never have Ray; he's your sister's husband. He loves her and she loves him. You're sensible enough, surely, to realise that the sooner you forget him in that way the better.'

Sara hung her head.

'I know you're right, Carl,' she agreed. 'I must forget him in that way, I suppose. But I still can't marry anyone else.'

'I believe you will one day marry someone else,' he said. 'You're very lovely, in spite of what you say about Irma's superior beauty. I'll grant you she's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, but you're also beautiful, in a very different way.' He stopped, watching her colour rise at his unexpected words of flattery. Then-on impulse it seemed to Sara-he reached across to place his strong brown hand over hers as it lay on the table. 'Give it some further thought,' he advised. 'Stop to consider whether this hopeless love you have is worth remaining single all your life for. Marriage to me will give you that peace and tranquillity you always seem to be craving for. You'll be the mistress of your own home; you'll be a proud mother one day.'

His words came to her softly on the perfumed air; she thought of the man she had first known, the austere and distant Carl van der Linden who treated her with near indifference, and then, a little later, with added contempt, believing as he did that she had come over to Africa to be near to the man she loved. He knew now that she had given up a great deal to come here, and that the reason for coming was the love she had for her sister, and the duty she owed to her.

'Come,' he invited, rising from his chair and bringing Sara up with him, 'let's take a stroll in the garden and forget this discussion for the time being.' She was on her feet, rather close to him; she had a sudden flash of memory that brought vividly to mind that other occasion when she had been close to Carl... much closer than this. She remembered his strength and the easy victory that had carried her to blissful heights. She felt again his pa.s.sionate kisses, his arms about her. She had blamed her own lack of resistance on the wine... but was it the wine...?

'We'll go this way.' Carl had his hand under her elbow; they wandered away from the lights of the house to the silvered light which filled the garden. It was an idyllic, dreamlike atmosphere, hauntingly still and restful, with no sound but that of the cicadas in the trees at the far end of the lawn. Above, in the vast expanse of sky, a million stars pierced the celestial veil of cirrus cloud that floated, wraith-like, across the purple dome of the heavens. A draught of perfume- laden air touched Sara's face and played tricks with her hair. She felt exhilarated, her senses tingling with excitement.

'It's so beautiful,' she breathed, aware that Carl had turned his head, but unaware that his eyes were fixed with admiration on her profile, or that he put out a hand to tidy an unruly lock of hair but then dropped it again, faintly astonished at his action. 'Just look, Carl--- ' Sara pointed to the small ornamental pool just ahead of them. 'The clouds are mirrored in the water.' It was so pretty, but she thought that perhaps Carl would not be as appreciative as she was.

But to her surprise he stopped, and said after a moment, 'The clouds look like silver-the result of the moonlight, of course.'

'How quiet it all is!'

'But the leaves are whispering.'

'Yes, I can just hear them.'

They walked on again, Carl still keeping his hand beneath Sara's elbow. Her thoughts wandered, to the pleasant times she had had since coming here, to stay with a woman she had never even met. They had got along as if they had known one another for years. Sara began to picture that gracious lady as her mother-in-law... A little thrill of pleasure shot through her; she knew she could never have a nicer mother-in-law and she thought that if only she could have been in love with Carl then her future would have looked rosy indeed. But she was not in love with Carl, nor was he in love with her, so marriage was definitely out. It could never succeed if it was entered into in so cold and calculating a manner as Carl had suggested. Why, it was no more than a business deal! No, attractive as was his offer in one way-and there was no doubt that the idea of living at Ravenspark was most attractive indeed-it had no appeal for Sara at all.

Or did it...?

Sara found herself going over it all again, this time seeing only the advantages, Irma's peace of mind being the most important. Ray would spend more time with her, as Carl had said, so it was reasonable to a.s.sume that they would become close again, as they used to be before Sara's arrival at the farm. She had taken over the running of the home quite naturally, because Irma had had no interest at all. But if Sara was not there to run the home then Irma might do it herself. She could certainly do such things as planning meals, making shopping lists, giving orders to Sadie and Makau. All this would take up some of her time and in consequence there would be less time for brooding.

Yes, there were certainly many advantages...

But what of Sara herself-married to a man as unfeeling as Carl? True, she did not want his love, simply because she was unable to give love in return, but she could scarcely go through her life without even affection. There would be the children, though...

A sigh escaped her and Carl turned his head to look at her.

'What was that for?' he inquired softly.

'I was thinking,' she murmured.

'I told you to forget it for the time being.'

'How can I? It's natural that it should be on my mind.'

'You're looking at the advantages and the disadvantages,' he stated. 'But are there many disadvantages, Sara?'

'There are certainly more advantages,' she agreed.

'I ought not to influence you. It's your decision, Sara. As for me-well, I can look out for someone else to serve my purpose.'

Someone else... Sara looked up into his handsome face; she remembered again that ecstasy of his love- making. Someone else... A frown creased her wide clear brow. She saw the picture of him with a pretty wife, and two or three children. She had thought once that he would make an unfeeling father, but she knew now that she had been quite mistaken; he would make an excellent father-stern, certainly, but a kind father for all that.

Someone else... Why did the words jar like this?

He was speaking again, saying it was time they returned to the house. She nodded and they turned, retracing their steps. Sara spoke, softly, into the balmy night where the sweet perfumes of flowers drifted through the air.

'I've made up my mind, Carl.'

'You have?' He stopped, and looked down into her lovely face. 'And what decision have you come to?'

'I'd like to marry you-and th-thank you for asking me.'

'Thank you for accepting,' was his quiet unemotional response. 'I rather think, my dear, that we've made a profitable bargain tonight, one which neither of us will ever regret.' He paused a moment and then, 'I shall not, of course, expect you to be my wife immediately. We shall marry, and soon, but I think you'll agree that we ought to get to know one another a little better before we put our marriage on a normal footing?'

Deep grat.i.tude welled up within her. He might have known that no sooner was her answer given than the thought of her wedding night had brought to her something almost akin to fear.

'I do agree, Carl,' she returned, fluttering him a shy smile. 'Thank you for being so considerate.'

CHAPTER NINE.

Irma lay back against the pillows and watched her sister using a duster on the dressing-table. Sadie had been ill for three days and so the dusting and cleaning of Irma's room had fallen once again on Sara's shoulders. Not that Sara minded; she arrived at Njangola at nine o'clock every morning, anyway.

'I'm still staggered that you and Carl should have got married.' Irma spoke into the little silence that had fallen between them. 'I lie here and ponder, and always come to the same conclusion.'

'And what's that?' Sara wanted to know, sending Irma a smile across the room.

'That there's something that doesn't quite fit.'

'Such as?'

'You hated him until you went on that holiday."

'I didn't hate him,' denied Sara, bending down to dust the narrow length of polished wood supporting the legs of the dressing-table. 'I disliked him, I admit, but there was nothing stronger than that.'

'You disliked him one week and the next you were married to him.'

Sara had to laugh.

'Not as quickly as that, Irma. We were engaged for ten days, remember?'

'Ten days!' scoffed her sister.

'What about you and Ray?' Sara could not help reminding her.

'We were engaged longer than that.'

'I don't really see that it matters.' Straightening up, Sara glanced around to make sure she had dusted everything.

'Are you in love with him?' asked Irma curiously.

'What a thing to ask!'

'Well, I am asking it.'

Sara twisted away, and began to dust a small bookshelf for the second time.

'Of course I'm in love with him. Am I the kind of girl to marry without love?'

'You were in love with Ray... perhaps you still are in love with him.'

Sara swallowed hard, her nerves quivering. If it had not worked... if it had all been done for nothing...

Naturally she mentioned it to her husband at dinner that evening. It was the first time they had seen each other that day, for Carl had already gone out when Sara got up, and he was still out when she returned to Ravenspark at almost six o'clock, having had to see to the evening meal for Ray and Irma.

'You mean she actually asked outright if you're in love with me?' Carl seemed almost unable to believe it.

'She also reminded me that I'd been in love with Ray, and suggested I might still be in love with him.'

Carl frowned.

'Irma needs convincing,' he declared. 'When I was with her yesterday she seemed as depressed as ever. I've an idea that Ray isn't doing all he should for her.' His voice was stern, his eyes faintly angry. He was one of the family now and it seemed that he intended to have his say. His next words left Sara in no doubt about this. 'I shall speak to Ray, and give him some advice.'

'You've just said that Irma needs convincing. How are we to convince her?'

'There really shouldn't be any need,' he answered shortly. 'The very fact that we're married should be proof enough that we're in love.' So calm and casual! He might have been talking of the weather, or that field of mealies over there, for all the emotion he put into his voice. Sara, bride of three weeks, was of course often allowing her mind to see a different picture, that of herself as a well-loved bride... But there it was; not for her the rapture that had been Irma's. She was fortunate, anyway, Sara had decided. Mistress of this beautiful home, a handsome husband to escort her to the Club dance on a Sat.u.r.day night. Carl was satisfied with his bargain and so was she. As he had prophesied, it was a most convenient arrangement for Sara and for him, but one part of it seemed to have failed-unless Irma could be convinced that Sara was in love with her husband. Carl was speaking, wanting to know how it had come about that Irma had asked such pointed questions.

'She just began by saying she was staggered that you and I had got married. She knew, you see, that we didn't like one another very much.'

Carl nodded thoughtfully.

'She used to hint now and then that you and I were not as neighbourly as she would have expected.'

'What are we to do?' asked Sara again, her eyes filled with anxiety. 'She was very low in spirits today.'

An exasperated sigh escaped her husband.

'Apart from making love in front of her I can't think!'

'Making l-love?' Sara's eyes opened very wide indeed, as well they might. 'What---- ?'

'I meant kissing and cuddling, of course.' He had to laugh at her expression. 'Are you willing to act with a little-er-affection towards me, just for her benefit?'

'If it's really necessary,' she said after a little frowning silence.

'If it's so abhorrent to you, then we won't bother!'

Sara said nothing more about her sister. Carl was obviously not feeling up to a discussion on the matter and so it was prudently dropped by Sara, who abruptly changed the subject, talking about other, more trivial things.

The following afternoon Carl arrived at Njangola Farm, having ridden over after being with his boys all morning, supervising the felling of several mahogany trees. Sara watched from the window of Irma's bedroom as Carl slid lightly from the gelding's glossy back, secured the reins to a tree and went off towards the dairy where Ray was on a ladder, painting the new guttering that had been fixed beneath the repaired roof. What would Carl say to her brother-in-law? Sara wondered, turning her head as Irma asked what she was looking at that interested her so much.

'It's Carl; he's talking to Ray.'

'Carl-your husband.' Irma's voice was so low as to be scarcely audible. 'Tell me, what's it like, living in such a luxurious house as Ravenspark?'

'I've been living in a luxurious house for some time,' Sara reminded her, but immediately went on to say, 'I love it at Ravenspark. As you know, the gardens are fantastic, and the house itself-well, you've been inside it, so you know how comfortable it all is.'

'Yes; we went to a party there once, when we first came here... and I was able to dance every dance, and take part in the games, and stroll in the grounds------'

'Irma, stop being so bitter I It's not always going to be like this!'

'No? Tell me, then, how is it ever going to change?'

Sara found herself spreading her hands helplessly.

'I don't know, Irma, but I just feel it isn't always going to be like this!'

'Bet your life it isn't! I'm not intending to live, Sara.'

Sick at heart, Sara turned away. She watched Carl and Ray walking towards another of the farm buildings -where they would be out of earshot of the boys working by the dairy, Sara supposed.

'We were talking about Ravenspark.' Irma's voice caused Sara once more to turn her head. 'Tell me about the other rooms. I've seen only two.'

'There's Carl's study, which he has let me see, but that's all. It's definitely his own private domain. Then there's a small sitting room which we like to use in the evenings. The bedrooms are very attractive, all the decor having been planned by Carl's mother-I did tell you about her gift, didn't I?'

Irma nodded.

'Go on,' urged Irma, and Sara was only too willing to oblige, glad that Irma was interested in something for a change. She continued to describe the house which was now her home.

'The guest rooms are in blue and gold and blue and white, while-while----- ' She checked just in time, her heart giving a little b.u.mp. She had almost given away the fact that she and Carl occupied separate rooms!

'While what?' demanded Irma, frowning in puzzlement at this pause.

'While ours is in a lovely shade of peach-the curtains and the bed-cover are peach, and so are two of the walls.' Sara went on to expand on the rest of the decorations, and to describe the furniture. When she had finished she heard Irma say, 'That sounds awful for a man's room. It's too dainty for a man like Carl.'

Sara said nothing. She had brought two books from Carl's library and she had already read one short story to Irma, but now she asked if she would like her to read another. She would far rather have seen Irma reading the stories for herself, but although she did quite a lot of reading when Sara was not there, she seemed always to want Sara to sit on the bottom of the bed and read aloud to her.

'No, I want to go to sleep. Give me a couple of tablets, will you?'

Sara frowned darkly.

'You don't want to sleep at this time of the day, Irma. Let me read to you.'