f obtaining forgetfulness through the same means. When Mr.
Brent asked me what he should bring me from Egypt, I said a lotos of
the Nile. If he fulfills his promise I will share it with you."

"I am not sure that I care to be indebted even for forgetfulness to
Mr. Brent," said Victor Clare ungratefully.

He was sorry the moment after for having spoken so curtly, and would
have made amends by promising to accept a dozen lotoses if she desired
to bestow so many upon him; but Miss Milbourne had already turned to
her neighbor on the other side and plunged into conversation. "Is it
not strange that Egypt should be waking from her sleep of centuries?"
she said; and--while the gentleman whom she addressed took up the
theme readily--Mrs. Lancaster rose and sauntered round the group to
where Victor Clare was lying.

"Come, Monsieur Indolence, and take a walk," she said. "I think the
policeman's motto is right--'Keep moving.' When one stops to think
about anything, even about the heat, it makes it worse."

Now, however comfortable a man may be, if he is bidden to rise by a
pretty woman who stands imperiously over him, the chances are that he
obeys. So it was with Clare. He most assuredly did not want to go
with Mrs. Lancaster, and quite as assuredly he _did_ want to stay just
where he was, with the hem of Eleanor Milbourne's dress touching him
and a pervading sense of her presence near, even when she encouraged
stupid people to expose their ignorance on the Egyptian question.
Yet he found himself walking away with the pretty widow before five
minutes had passed.

"I know you are not obliged to me," she said when they had gone some
distance. "But your divinity is talking commonplaces, or listening to
them, which amounts to the same thing; so I fancied you might spare me
ten minutes. I want to know if that was a mere assertion for effect a
minute ago, or if you are in earnest in thinking of going to Egypt?"

"I never talk for effect," said Victor with a hauteur that was spoilt
by a slight touch of petulance. "I always mean what I say, and I
certainly am in earnest in thinking of going to Egypt."

"May I ask why?"

"I am surprised that you should need to ask. One's friends usually
know one's affairs at least as well as one's self--sometimes much
better. Everybody who knows me knows that I am a poor man."

"Not so poor that you need go to Egypt in search of a fortune,
however," said she, stopping short and looking at him ke