uly received at
breakfast.

They certainly did not stop en route to look at temples or tombs, but
they made quite a long halt on the sandbank just above Luxor, onto
which boats of all sizes and shapes so often run. The loss of time is
irritating enough, goodness knows, in ordinary travelling and occurs
quite frequently, but when one is love-driven and this maddening delay
happens, then you have to make as big an exercise of self-control as
when you rush onto the platform only to see the guard's van of your
train disappearing into the tunnel.

And surely the gods laughed long and loud when Damaris chose that very
day to return by public steamer from Denderah where she had been to
visit the Temple of Hathor the Egyptian Aphrodite.

CHAPTER SIX

"_But still his tongue ran on, the less
Of weight it bore, with greater ease_."

BUTLER.

Lady Thistleton's daughters were exhaustively energetic. It belied
their colouring, which was dun and which, though of the same family, is
distinct from mousey. It has infinitely more vim and a vast endurance
and a great patience; also is it sullen and boring, but reliable.

Ellen, the elder, had been engaged to a younger son of The Inverness of
Inverness. His colouring, except of course for the eyes, which were of
a snapping blue, reminded one of a tomato salad dressed with chilis and
smothered in mustard-sauce. His temper corresponded. They had fought
over everything until they had smashed their engagement.

Berenice was engaged to a parson in Edinburgh, one of the
Smythe-Smythes of London. She made a doormat of herself, loving the
herculean minister, and, though longing to stay at home and get
married, had, at her lover's earnest request, consented to accompany
her mother and sister to Egypt instead.

To his fervent mind the loss of a few months of married life would be
compensated for by the biblical discourses upon the Land of Moses with
which, later on, as his wife, she would be able to enliven Mother's
Meetings.

They admired Damaris a lot, though her independence and colouring
shocked them not a little. In the seclusion of the double bedroom, as
they brushed or twisted their lanky locks in Hindes', they whispered
about her love-affair, which had presumably gone agley, and thrilled
with a distinct feeling of wrong-doing over the gossip anent the
mythical Sheikh.

If they had asked Damaris about the myth, she would have told them
everything q