'Ladies don't push.'
They came up in a parody of demureness, but hopping with impatience.
'Very well, Vicky. What is it?'
They began together, and Robyn stopped them again.
'I said Vicky.'
And Victoria puffed up importantly.
'There is someone coming.'
'From Thabas Indunas?' Robyn asked.
'No, Mama, from the south., 'It's probably one of the king's messengers.'
'No, Mama, it's a white man on a horse.'
Robyn's interest quickened; she would never have admitted even to herself how often the isolation palled.
A white traveller would mean news, perhaps letters, stores and supplies, or even the most precious of all, books. Failing those treasures there would be the mere mental stimulation of a strange face and of conversation and ideas.
She was tempted to leave the patient on the table, it was not a serious burn, but she checked herself.
'Tell Papa I shall come directly,' she said, and the twins fled, jammed in the doorway for a moment, and then popped through like a cork from a champagne bottle.
By the time Robyn had finished dressing the burn, dismissed the patient, washed her hands and hurried out onto the porch of the church, the stranger was coming up the hill.
Clinton was leading the mule on which he was mounted. It was a big strong-looking grey animal, so the rider looked small and slim upon the broad back. He was a lad, dressed in an old tweed jacket and a boy's cloth cap.
The twins danced on each side of the mule, and Clinton at its head was looking back over his shoulder, listening to something that the stranger was saying.
'Who is it, Mama?' Salina came out of the kitchen and called across the yard.
'We shall find out in a moment.'
Clinton led the mule to the porch, and the rider's head was on a level with Robyn's.
'Doctor Ballantyne, your grandfather, Doctor Moffat, sent me to you, I have letters and gifts from him for you.'
With a start Robyn realized that under the patched tweed coat and cap was a woman, and even in that moment of surprise she was aware that it was an extraordinarily handsome woman, younger than Robyn herself, not much over thirty years of age, with steady, dark eyes and almost Mongolian cheekbones.
She jumped down from the mule with the agility of an expert horsewoman, and came up the steps of the porch to seize Robyn's hands. Her grip was firm as a man's, and her expression was intense.
'My husband is ill and suffering. Doctor Moffat says you are the only one who can help him. Will you do it? Oh please, will you?'
'I am a doctor.' Robyn gently twisted her fingers out of the other woman's painful grip, but it was not that which troubled her, there was something too intense, too passionate about her. 'I am a doctor, and I could never refuse to help anyone who is suffering. Of course, I shall do whatever I can.'
'Do you promise that?' the woman insisted, and Robyn nodded slightly.
'I have said I will help, there is no need to promise.'
'Oh, thank you.' The woman smiled with relief.
'Where is your husband?'
'Not far behind. I rode ahead to warn you, and to make sure that you would help us.'
'What is it that ails your husband?'
'Doctor Moffat has explained it all in a letter. He sent gifts for you also.' The woman was evasive, turning away from Robyn's scrutiny and running back to the mule.
From the saddle-bags she lifted down two packages, wrapped in oilskin to protect them against the elements and bound up with rawhide thongs. They were so heavy and bulky that Clinton took them from her and carried them into the church.
'You are tired,' Robyn said. 'I am sorry I cannot offer you coffee, we used the last a month ago, but a glass of lemonade?'
'No.' The woman shook her head decidedly. 'I shall go back immediately, to be with my husband, but we shall arrive before nightfall.'
She ran back, and vaulted lightly to the mule's back.
None of them had ever seen a woman do that.
'Thank you,' she repeated, and then trotted out of the yard, back down the hill.
Clinton came out of the church and put one arm around Robyn's shoulders.
'What a very beautiful and unusual woman,' he said, and Robyn nodded. That was one of the things that had troubled her. Robyn mistrusted beautiful women.
