velopes going to sea in the ships that came for the mail.

"And I'd like so much to meet these native Americans that you are
asking," said Lady Agnes sweetly, and without malice. "I've always
wondered if the first families over there show any trace of their
wonderful, picturesque Indian blood."

"Our first families came from England, Lady Deppingham," said Drusilla,
biting her lips.

"Indeed? From what part of England?" Of course, that query killed every
chance for a sensible discussion.

One morning during the first week in February, the steamer from Aden
brought stacks of mail--the customary newspapers, magazines, novels,
telegrams and letters. It was noticed that her ladyship had several
hundred letters, many bearing crests or coats-of-arms.

At last, she came to a letter of many pages, covered with a scrawl that
looked preposterously fashionable.

"Nouveau riche," thought Drusilla Browne, looking up from her own
letters. Lady Agnes gave a sudden shriek, and, leaping to her feet,
performed a dance that set her husband and Bobby Browne to gasping.

"She's coming!" she cried ecstatically, repeating herself a dozen times.

"Who's coming, Aggie?" roared her husband for the sixth time.

"She!"

"She may be a steamship for all I know, if--"

"The Princess! Deppy, I'm going to squeeze you! I must squeeze somebody!
Isn't it glorious? Now--now! Now life will be worth living in this
beastly place."

Her dearest friend, the Princess, had written to say that she was coming
to spend a month with her. Her dear schoolmate of the old days in
Paris--her chum of the dear Sacred Heart Convent when it flourished in
the Boulevard des Invalides--her roommate up to the day when that
institution was forced to leave Paris for less unfriendly fields!

"In her uncle's yacht, Deppy--the big one that came to Cowes last year,
don't you know? Of course, you do. Don't look so dazed. He's cruising
for a couple of months and is to set her down here until the yacht
returns from Borneo and the Philippines. She says she hopes it will be
quiet here! Quiet! She _hopes_ it will be _quiet_! Where are the
cigarettes, Deppy? Quick! I must do something devilish. Yes, I know I
swore off last week, but--please let me take 'em." The four of them
smoked in wondrous silence for two or three minutes. Then Browne spoke
up, as if coming from a dream:

"I say, Deppingham, you can take her out walking and pick up a crownful
of fresh rubies every day or