nt
is at their breast."

Hadassah and Margaret looked at one another. Their eyes said many
things; Margaret's were full of pride because Hadassah was hearing from
his own lips that Michael was as whole-heartedly in the war as even
Freddy could have desired.

She was still fingering and gazing at the wonderful stone. It seemed
scarcely more strange to her that it had actually once belonged to the
first king who had abhorred war, had once formed a part of his great
royal treasury, than the fact that it had played its part in the
mystical drama of her life in Egypt. As Michael talked, she questioned
herself dreamily. Which was real--her humdrum pantry-maid existence in
London, with her dreary walks through darkened streets, with now and
then a Zeppelin scare to make her lonely bedroom seem more lonely? Or
her life in the Valley, surrounded by the unearthly light of the Theban
hills, her life of intellectual excitement and strange intimacy with
things and people which the world had forgotten for thousands of years?

Michael felt her abstraction. He put his hand on the top of hers,
which held the jewel, and pressed it.

"Come back," he said, laughing. "We're in Clarges Street, and we're
going to be married to-morrow."

Meg looked up with startled eyes. "Are we?" she said.

"My dear, practical mystic, we are." He caught her round the waist and
looked at Hadassah as he spoke. "You'll get her ready, won't you?"

She laughed. "Well, if you really mean it, I think we must all be up
and doing."

"If!" Michael cried. "With this in my pocket, I should rather think I
do mean it!" He brandished the special licence in the air. "Do you
know what this means, Meg? It's your death-warrant. Are you resigned?
Have you anything to confess? You've not been married to anyone else
while I was away?"

Margaret shook her head. He had brought laughter back to her eyes.
Just at that moment the ex-butler entered the room. As they all turned
to look at him, he said:

"A person has called to see Miss Lampton."

"Who is it?" Margaret said. Her thoughts flew to her dressmaker, who
was hurriedly making a light frock, bought ready-made, the proper
length for her; in all other respects it fitted her.

"I don't know, miss. She has a box in her arms."

"Oh, I'll go," Margaret said. "I won't be long."

"Then, while you're gone, I'll make use of my time," Michael said as he
rose to his feet. "I'll be back in ten minutes.