18 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND. 
self, she evinced a true British matron-like contempt 
for every other woman not so supremely fortunate. 
She talked a great deal about “ the haven of a 
good man’s love.” One might sail the seas a long time, 
I think, before one made such a port. Meanwhile the 
good lady’s own haven, the elderly shikari, was flirting 
with the big drum of the celebrated ladies’ orchestra 
at the Aden tea-house. 
“All human beans,” for this is what our friend got 
the word to, as she was right in the forefront of the 
g-dropping craze, “ should marry. It is too lonely to 
live by oneself.” 
Until one has been married long enough to appre- 
ciate the delight and blessedness of solitude this may 
be true, but wise people don’t dogmatise on so big a 
subject. Even Socrates told us that whether a man 
marries or whether he doesn’t he regrets it. And so it 
would almost follow that if one never jumped the 
precipice matrimonial one would always have the 
lurking haunting fear of having been done out of 
something good. It may be as well, therefore, to 
take the header in quite youthful days and — get it 
over. But as the wise Cecily pertinently remarks, 
you must first catch your hare ! 
The other shooting party was that of two officers 
from India, one of them a distant cousin of mine, who 
was as much surprised to see me as I was to see him. 
They were setting off to Berbera as soon as humanly 
possible, like ourselves. 
The younger man, my kinsman, took a great fancy 
to Cecily. At least I suppose he did, in spite of her 
