Then against a visiting team from Pietermaritzburg College he captained
the school rugby Win to an inglorious 30, 0 defeat.
The young ladies competed with equal ferocity, covering it with giggles
and blushes. The success of their efforts was measured in the outbreak
of betrothals and scandals during the week.
The older men smiled indulgently, until, fortified with bottled spirit,
they discarded their dignity and capered and panted around the dance
floor. There were three bouts of fisticuffs but these were between old
enemies and none of them were really worth watching.
Only one family held aloof from the festivities. There were many of
the young ladies who missed Michael Courtney.
During one of the infrequent lulls of the week, Sean managed to
separate Ruth from Ada, and take her out to the homestead at Lion
Kop.
She moved silently through the empty rooms, appraising each with
narrowed thoughtful eyes while Sean hovered anxiously behind her,
certain that her silence was disapproval.
In fact, Ruth was in ecstasy; a shell, a magnificent shell of a house,
with no trace of another woman in it, waiting for her to bring it to
life. She could imagine exactly the curtains she wanted, her Persian
carpets sent down by Uncle Isaac from Pretoria and now in storage,
would look just right once she had the yellow, wood floors polished to
a gloss. The kitchen, of course, would have to be completely rebuilt,
with a new double Ago stove. The bedroom . . .
Unable to contain himself, Sean blurted out: 'Well, do you like it?'
She turned slowly to him, the mists of thought clearing from her eyes
'Oh, Sean! It's the most beautiful house in all the world.'
In this emotional moment, Sean put forward the proposition he had
planned for that evening.
'Ruth, will you marry me?'
And Ruth, who had planned to hesitate and ask for a little time to
consider, replied instantly: 'Oh, yes please!'
she was truly impressed with the ring.
The finale to the week was Sean Courtney's bush, buck shoot.
Sean and Dirk arrived at Protea Cottage with the dawn. They were
dressed in rough hunting clothes and the leather gun, cases lay on the
floor of the mule, wagon under Sean's feet. It took nearly fifteen
minutes for Sean to transfer Ruth, Ada and her girls from the cottage
to the carriage. In the same way a man might drive a flock of chickens
towards the door of a henhouse.
He would get them all moving slowly in front of him, down the path
towards the carriage, clucking and fussing. Almost there when suddenly
one of them would shriek softly and double back towards the cottage for
a forgotten parasol or work, basket and the general movement would
break down again.
The third time this happened Sean felt something snap inside his head.
He bellowed. A vast hush fell over the ladies and two of them looked
as though they might cry.
'Now don't get worked up, dear.' Ada tried to soothe him
