Were not places of pleasurable and healthful resort so few in the neighbourhood of Cape Town, its inhabitants would certainly not attach the degree of importance they do to visiting a spot so barren of attraction to the majority as is the country whereon stands Rathfelder's Hotel. A long, low, widespreading building, or rather cluster of buildings, it lies beside the road leading from Cape Town to Cork Bay, and nearly at equal distance—about seven miles—from both places. Excepting a scattering of small native cottages, no other habitation is within sight, and the country, bounded on the north-west by the seemingly interminable range of the Table Mountains, spreads away in other directions, far, far beyond sight, one unbroken flat. Indeed, "The Flats" is the name given to these parts by the natives. To the lover of flowers and of this kind of wild, independent solitude peculiar to the Flats, the gratification is boundless. The soil, a mixture of white sand and turf, is highly favourable to the growth of an immense variety of heaths and other flowering shrubs, which with ever-charming successions carpet the ground with their myriads of blossoms throughout the great part of the year. Heaths of the richest hues and luxuriance—scarlet, orange, pink and other colours—predominate.

It would seem that only by comparison is the value, the real pleasure or importance of anything known; even the degrees of pain and sorrow are learned but by contrast with the greater or lesser afflictions which have preceded them; and thus it was that a week or fortnight's stay at Rathfelder's or but a day's excursion to these flowery and cool regions—cooler and fresher by ten degrees than in or near the town—came to be regarded as one if not the principal delight of the hot summer-time to the inhabitants of Cape Town—especially to those who, like our dear uncle, were obliged by reason of their engagements to spend a great portion of every day in the scorching city. He was one of the managers of the great Colonial bank there.

"Oh, now, don't you call this pleasant, Lotty?" I exclaimed as we wandered together in the garden at the back of the hotel after dinner, uncle and aunt preferring to remain on the broad balcony surrounding that portion of the house allotted entirely to visitors. The garden lay at a distance quite out of sight of the house, and was shaded by fruit trees, while the banks of a stream which rippled over a pebbly bed skirting one side of the ground were brilliant with arum blossoms and other flowers, making the entire scene a very inviting one.

"Yes, it's very well in its way," answered Lotty, glancing about her with a careless air, "but I think we've had enough of it now; I should like a little change, shouldn't you? Can't we get upon those Flats, as they call them, I wonder?"

"Oh, but do you not remember," I urged, "that uncle so particularly warned us not to go beyond the garden this evening, as the hour is so late, the country so new to us, and daylight leaves this part of the Cape more suddenly than it does ours, because the sun goes down, you know, on the other side of the mountain. Just fancy losing our way out on those wild-looking Flats!"

"Losing our way!" repeated Charlotte, contemptuously; "as if that was possible in such a flat country as this. You are always such a coward, Mechie, that's the truth; and then you take refuge in a pretended obedience to uncle and aunt's wishes."

"Oh, Charlotte!" I exclaimed as I felt the blood rush to my face and brow, "you cannot mean what you say."

"Well, there! don't be offended," rejoined my sister, not attending to my vexed words, but passing through an opening which she spied out in the hedge beside us.

"Oh, Mechie," she continued in a delighted tone, "here is just the thing we want, nothing more nor less than a charming little rustic bridge which opens a way out of this stupid garden for us at once!"

I followed Lotty, who stood on a broad plank looking down into a deep, wide space which formed the bed of a much more pretentious stream or brook than that in the garden, this last being evidently an offspring of the first. Very reluctantly I followed my wayward sister, resolving just to look about for a minute or two on the confines of the Flats and then return to the garden. Ah, that weak or sinful first stop on the wrong road! After crossing the bridge and a large sort of enclosed field in a half-cultivated state, we clambered over some bars of wood serving as a gate at the farther end, and found ourselves out on the Flats.

But now it needed little more persuasion on Charlotte's part to induce me to proceed. Every step of the way teemed with attractions for me in the shape of flowers, beautiful and varied to a degree of luxuriance I had never seen before; and thus tempted, I became oblivious alike of dear uncle's advice and of time and path, and heedlessly followed Lotty, who wandered on ahead, every now and then gathering a blossom as its bright hue caught her eye, and as quickly casting it from her when curiosity was gratified.

So it came that walking and picking, each after her own fashion, it was not until my hand was full to inconvenience—for I was eager to carry back a splendid bouquet to Aunt Rossiter—that I observed the sun had disappeared behind the great Table Mountain and the brief twilight of that part of the world was fast becoming enveloped in the dark mantle of night. It so chanced I had got in advance of Charlotte during the last five or ten minutes, having passed her as she turned aside to look at something, and with increasing apprehension I saw how far we had strayed from the hotel—considerably farther than I had ever intended—and I felt how wrong and silly I had been to allow my sister's influence to have any weight with me in opposition to the advice of my guardian, who knew so much better what was in every way good for us than we could possibly know for ourselves.

Turning hastily to Charlotte, I exclaimed:

"Oh, Lotty, how dark it is growing, and we have walked such a distance! Oh, it was very foolish of us!"

Charlotte stopped suddenly and looking up and around her with a scared expression, said in an angry and alarmed voice: "Foolish indeed! why in the name of wonder, Mechie, were you so stupid as not to observe it before? and what did you run on for at such a rate, so fast and so far? It was as much as I could do to keep up with you! It is all your fault."

I knew well from past experience that to argue with Charlotte in her present mood would but increase her irritation and lose more of that time we had already spent too much of. When frightened or angry she seldom stopped to think of the justice or injustice her accusations, but unreflectingly cast anything at me which came into her head. Amidst my own distress, however, I could not withstand saying: "Well, it was very careless of me, I must confess, but indeed, Lotty, you cannot but fairly acknowledge that, having been the proposer and leader of this walk, it rested principally with you to be its regulator as to time and distance; and though I did not exactly act upon any defined impression of that kind, I am nevertheless conscious of having been in a manner influenced by it, and—"

"Proposer and leader!" interrupted Charlotte, angrily; "do you think I liked this stupid walk? I am not such a baby as you are, to find amusement wherever I go in picking up pebbles and flowers! It's just you all over, Mechie, to talk such nonsense!"

"Well, never mind, Lotty, who is in fault, but let us do our best to escape the consequence of our imprudence, and return at once," I answered, gently, seeing I was but wasting the precious minutes.

"Yes, that is if we can," said Lotty, gazing about her with a thoroughly perplexed look; "let me see—which way did we come? I declare it's more than I know; every side looks alike, and not a vestige of the hotel to be seen."