straight in her chair, and looked at him
indignantly. "I have no slaves," she said.

Kingsley Bey had been watching the Circassian girl Mata, in the garden
for some time, and he had not been able to resist the temptation to make
the suggestion that roused her now.

"I think the letter rather high-flown," said Dicky, turning the point,
and handing the open page to Kingsley. "It looks to me as though written
with a purpose."

"What a cryptic remark!" said Kingsley laughing, yet a little chagrined.
"What you probably wish to convey is that it says one thing and means
another."

"Suppose it does," interposed the lady. "The fact remains that he
answered my appeal, which did not mince words, in most diplomatic and
gentlemanly language. What do you think of the letter?" she asked,
turning to Kingsley, and reaching a hand for it.

"I'll guarantee our friend here could do no better, if he sat up all
night," put in Dicky satirically.

"You are safe in saying so, the opportunity being lacking." She laughed,
and folded it up.

"I believe Kingsley Bey means what he says in that letter. Whatever his
purpose, I honestly think that you might have great influence over him,"
mused Dicky, and, getting up, stepped from the veranda, as though to go
to the bank where an incoming steamer they had been watching was casting
anchor. He turned presently, however, came back a step and said "You
see, all our argument resolves itself into this: if Kingsley is to be
smashed only Ismail can do it. If Ismail does it, Kingsley will have
the desert for a bed, for he'll not run, and Ismail daren't spare him.
Sequel, all his fortune will go to the Khedive. Question, what are we
going to do about it?"

So saying he left them, laughing, and went down the garden-path to the
riverside. The two on the veranda sat silent for a moment, then Kingsley
spoke.

"These weren't the things we talked about when we saw the clouds gather
over Skaw Fell and the sun shine on the Irish Sea. We've done and seen
much since then. Multitudes have come and gone in the world--and I have
grown grey!" he added with a laugh.

"I've done little-nothing, and I meant and hoped to do much," she almost
pleaded. "I've grown grey too."

"Not one grey hair," he said, with an admiring look. "Grey in spirit
sometimes," she reflected with a tired air. "But you--forgive me, if I
haven't known what you've done. I've lived out of England so long. You
may be at the head of the Governm