long as he could bear the entirely
feminine conversation on a subject in which he hadn't the remotest
interest, and then he put his cup down with a little jerk, got up with a
bigger one, and said, holding out his hand to Miss Nitocris:

"Well, Miss Marmion, I shall have to say good afternoon. You see we've
only just reached this side, and I've got quite a lot of things to
attend to. Bring your father along to dinner to-morrow night, if you
can; I shall be glad to meet him again. You needn't be afraid: we shan't
shoot."

When he had gone, Brenda rang and ordered the motor-car to be ready in
half an hour. Then they finished their tea and talk, and Brenda and
Nitocris went and put on their wraps--not the imitation of the mediaeval
armour which is used for serious motor-driving, but just dust-cloaks and
mushrooms, both of which Brenda lent to her friend. As they came back
through the drawing-room, she said to her mother:

"Well, Mamma, the car's ready, I believe. Won't you join us in a little
run round town?"

"When I want to take a run into the Other World in one of those infernal
machines of yours, Brenda," said her mother, with a mild touch of
sarcasm in her tone, "I'll ask you to let me come. This afternoon I feel
just a little bit too comfortable for a journey like that."

"It's a curious thing," said Brenda, as they were going down in the
lift, "Mamma's as healthy a woman as ever lived, and she's American too,
and yet I believe she'd as soon get on top of a broncho as into an
automobile."

The car was waiting for them in the courtyard under the glass awning. A
smart-looking young _chauffeur_ in orthodox costume touched his cap and
set the engine going. The gold-laced porters handed them into the two
front seats, and the _chauffeur_ effaced himself in the _tonneau_. Miss
Brenda put one hand on the steering-wheel and the other on the first
speed lever, and the car slid away, as though it had been running on
ice, towards the great arched entrance.

As they turned to the left on their way westward, a shabbily dressed man
and woman stepped back from the roadway on to the pavement. For a moment
they stared at the car in mute astonishment; then the man gripped the
woman tightly by the arm and led her away out of the ever-passing
throng, whispering to her in Coptic:

"Did'st thou see her, Neb-Anat--the Queen--the Queen in the living flesh
sitting there in the self-mover, the devil-machine? To what unholy
things has