npacked and stored away in
fragrant heaps. She wanted rest from the ceaseless laughter of the
islanders and the noise of pattering bare feet.

"Kalliope," she said, "we'll go for a row."

Kalliope smiled joyously. "Go row," she repeated. She had not the
faintest idea what the thing meant, but life was for her a passing
from one rapturous experience to another. "Go row" was no doubt some
untried pleasure. She stood smiling, waiting further enlightenment.

The Queen made the motions of a rower with her arms. Kalliope,
pathetically eager to understand, repeated, "Go row, go row."

The Queen led her to a window and pointed to one of the island boats
which had just left the steamer. She went through the pantomime of
rowing again. She touched her own breast with her forefinger, then
Kalliope's. The girl understood. She ran from the room, through
passages, down steps. She reached the landing place.

"Go row," she cried.

Then, condescending to the language of her people, she spoke to the
men who sat in one of the smaller island boats. In obedience to her
command they stepped on shore. They gave their coats and their
coloured sashes to the girl. She piled them in the stern, a cushion
for her mistress. She took the oars. The Queen came down the steps,
carrying in her arms one of the brown babies. She had tripped over it
at the end of the passage leading from her room. She sat on the
cushion prepared for her with the baby on her knees. Kalliope rowed
out across the harbour.

That night the Queen slept for the first time in her new palace. A bed
had been arranged for her, and she was eager to leave the small close
cabin on the ship. The great room she had chosen for herself attracted
her. She thought of the cool night air blowing in through the window,
of the wide balcony on which she could sit awhile till sleepiness came
over her. No other room in the palace was ready for use. Nor did Mr.
Donovan seem anxious to go ashore.

Mr. Phillips was a lover. He was also a young man. He reverenced the
lady who was mistress of his heart and queen. He also, as is the way
of lovers very much in love, suffered from a conviction that she ought
to be guarded and protected. It seemed to him wrong that she, with no
other companion than Kalliope, should sleep in a great lonely house on
an island where strange people lived. Thus young men, the best of
them, show contempt for the courage and ability of the women they
admire. The Queen herse