nto dust, just as she had seen the unearthed objects in
Egyptian tombs crumble into atoms when the first breath of air from the
desert reached them. Her contact with the world of to-day had melted
her romance of the desert into thin air. It was a beautiful vision
which her strange life had created; it had flourished during her short
stay in the Valley. It was not suited for the practical everyday world.

While she was with the Iretons, she tried to interest herself in
Hadassah's work as much as possible. She contrived very bravely to put
aside her wretchedness and at least appear interested and eager.

Her dignity and self-control added greatly to Michael Ireton's
admiration for her. He, too, had been struck by her resemblance to
Hadassah, so her beauty appealed to him very strongly.

Hadassah and her husband allowed her to go home to England without
protest. Cairo was becoming very hot for an English girl, and they
both agreed that it might do Michael Amory good to learn, when he did
turn up, that his conduct had hurt Margaret's pride, that she was
seriously wounded. As Millicent had spoken to Margaret of Michael as
being in robust health, they had banished the idea that his silence was
due to illness.

Outwardly Margaret behaved as though the whole episode of her
love-affair with Michael Amory was at an end. A woman's life is
dog-eared by her love-affairs; this was the first in Margaret's book of
life. To the Iretons she was always very insistent that there had been
no formal engagement between them, that Michael had not allowed her to
think of herself as bound to him in any way--for only one reason he had
not considered himself justified in asking her to become his wife or to
wait for him. This to the Iretons meant nothing. He had made Margaret
love him--that was the essential point--and his sensibilities must have
told him that with such a girl love was no light thing. He must have
realized that Margaret had given him the one perfect gift in her
possession, an unselfish love.

Margaret was very loyal to her lover. It was easy to be that, for in
her super-senses she was convinced of his great love for her, as a
thing apart from anything else. She found it wise to discuss the
mystery of his silence less and less; for she knew that no one but God
knows what is in our hearts, or what He has put there for our
consolation, and that to all outward appearances things looked very
black for Michael.

And