"Since YOU say the
word, I am a farmer already. I feel an interest in oats that is simply
absorbing. What steps ought I to take first in my present condition?"
She looked at me, all brown with the dust of my long ride. "I would
suggest," she said slowly, "a good wash, and some dinner."
"Hilda," I cried, surveying my boots, or what was visible of them,
"that is REALLY clever of you. A wash and some dinner! So practical, so
timely! The very thing! I will see to it."
Before night fell, I had arranged everything. I was to buy the next farm
from the owner of the one where Hilda lodged; I was also to learn
the rudiments of South African agriculture from him for a valuable
consideration; and I was to lodge in his house while my own was
building. He gave me his views on the cultivation of oats. He gave them
at some length--more length than perspicuity. I knew nothing about oats,
save that they were employed in the manufacture of porridge--which I
detest; but I was to be near Hilda once more, and I was prepared to
undertake the superintendence of the oat from its birth to its reaping
if only I might be allowed to live so close to Hilda.
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