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"I do not
remember very much more about that day, except that the sun seemed
to have stopped shining and the country no longer looked beautiful
and full of promise, but bleak and desolate as it sometimes does in
winter or in times of drought. Late that afternoon, Jantje, the
little Hottentot herd boy, came up to me and handed me a letter ,
which he said the English baas had left for me. It was the only love
letter I ever received, but it turned all my bitterness and grief
into a peacefulness which was the nearest I could get, then, to
happiness. I knew Richard still loved me, and somehow, as long as I
had his letter, I felt that we could never be really parted, even if
he were in England and I had to remain on the farm. I have it yet,
and though I am an old, tired woman, it still gives me hope and
courage."
"I must have
been a wonderful letter, Aunt Stephia,"I said
The old lady came back from her dreams of that far-off
romance."Perhaps," she said, hesitating a little, "perhaps, my dear,
you would care to read it ?"
"I should love to , Aunt Stephia,"I said gently
She rose at once and tripped into the house as eagerly as a young
girl. When she came back she handed me a letter, faded and yellow
with age, the edges of the envelope worn and frayed as though it had
been much handled. But when I came to open it I found that the seal
was unbroken.
"Open it ,open it,"said Great-aunt Stephia, and her voice was
shaking
I broke the seal and read.
It was not a love letter in the true sense of the word, but pages of
the minutest directions of how"my sweetest Phina"was to elude her
father's vigilance, creep down to the drift at night and there meet
Jantje with a horse which would take her to Smitsdorp. There she was
to go to "my true friend, Henry Wilson",who would give her money and
make arrangements for her to follow her lover to Cape Town and from
there to England ," where, my love, we can he be married at once.
But if, my dearest, you are not sure that you can face lift with me
in a land strange to you, then do not take this important step, for
I love you too much to wish you the smallest unhappiness. If you do
not come, and if I do not hear from you, then I shall know that you
could never be happy so far from the people and the country which
you love. If, however, you feel you can keep your promise to me, but
are of too timid and modest a journey to England unaccompanied, then
write to me, and I will, by some means, return to fetch my bride."
I read no further.
"But Aunt Phina!"I gasped. "Why…why…?"
The old lady was watching me with trembling eagerness, her face
flushed and her eyes bright with expectation."Read it aloud, my
dear,"she said."I want to hear every word of it. There was never
anyone I could trust…Uitlanders were hated in my young days…I could
not ask anyone."
"But, Auntie, don't you even know what he wrote?"
The old lady looked down, troubled and shy like a child who has
unwittingly done wrong.
"No, dear," she said, speaking very low." You see, I never learned to
read.
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