eyes met Mrs. Mervill's. In them he saw the promise of
a handsome _baksheesh_.

"When lady get off donkey, chain it catch on the saddle."

A slight sigh escaped from Millicent's lips; Mohammed was worthy of his
race.

"Oh, yes! How stupid of me not to remember! I quite forgot that my
chain caught as I dismounted. I never thought of looking to see if I
had lost anything."

Meg knew that Millicent Mervill was lying and she knew that Mohammed
knew that she was lying. She also knew Mohammed well enough to know
that if she chose, she could buy him back again from Millicent.
Mohammed handled the truth very carelessly; it was still his unshakable
policy to secure as much money as he could and give as much pleasure as
he could to the person who gave him the most. His Eastern knowledge of
human nature told him that Margaret would not be likely to seek to buy
his secret. He might, perhaps, tell her the truth when Mrs. Mervill
had gone away, because he sincerely liked her, but as far as bribery or
corruption was concerned, he must rest content with what Mrs. Mervill
thought a sufficient reward for his intelligence and silence.

Margaret had felt pretty certain that Millicent's curiosity had not
remained contented with the inspection of the public sitting-room. As
she watched her trembling hand and noted the blush on her cheeks, she
felt that her suspicions were not unjust. Instinctively her mind flew
to her diary; it was lying on a table in her room. She had kept it
very faithfully over since her arrival in the valley. It was an
intensely intimate, human document. It was a record of all her
impressions and of her life in the valley, and of every incident which
had happened in relation to her friendship with Michael. If Millicent
had read any of it, she must have seen into her very soul. Margaret's
whole being writhed at the thought of the thing. She had taken the
precaution to write it in French so that she could leave the book
unlocked in her bedroom. None of the house "boys" could read French;
Millicent, of course, both spoke and read it fluently.

As Meg thought of this, the cruel laying bare of her inner woman to the
woman she hated, a hot blush dyed her cheeks; she felt giddy.

Millicent noticed the blush. Her eyes rested upon Meg's until Meg was
compelled to raise hers. Then the two women looked into each other's
souls. Their unspoken thoughts were plainly read by each other.

It was Millicent who