hat the yacht was bound for New Caledonia, to take
the girl out to her convict brother. In that case, perhaps, it might
conceivably be necessary to keep the captain and crew in ignorance of her
presence, lest they should gossip in port. Still, Virginia's
restlessness, her lack of interest in the beautiful places so easy to
visit, her desire to remain on board when the _Bella Cuba_ was in port,
seemed to point to some peculiar motive under her indifference to all
pleasures of the trip.

In Alexandria, the girl "did not see why they should pack up to stop a
night in Cairo." What if the crankshaft could be repaired sooner than
they supposed? Then they would be wasting time. But she was overruled,
and just before sunset they drove up to one of the most beautiful hotels
in the world.

The evening chill was beginning to fall, yet many people still lingered
on the huge terrace overlooking the Nile, where the "winging" sails of
the little boats were pink and golden as mother-o'-pearl, reflecting the
crimson glory of the sky. A woman sitting alone at a little table looked
up as they passed, and with a slight start. Virginia half stopped,
staring almost rudely at the face which was lifted for a moment. But it
was only for a moment.

The woman, who was exceedingly handsome, of the most luscious Spanish
type of beauty, flushed under the American girl's intent gaze, drew up a
sable cape which had partly fallen from the shoulders of her white cloth
dress, and turned a resentful back.

"What a handsome creature, but awfully made up!" whispered Kate, who had
no mercy on her own sex.

Virginia did not answer. She walked on, looking as if she had awakened
from a dream.

At dinner that night, next to the party from the yacht, was a small table
laid for one. It was unoccupied until they had half finished dinner; then
heads began suddenly to turn toward the door; people whispered, there was
a perceptible, though scarcely definable thrill of interest, and a tall
woman in sequined black tulle, glittering with diamonds, came slowly up
the room. She must have known that all eyes were upon her, yet she
appeared unconscious. Her lashes were cast down as she moved toward a
chair held obsequiously ready by a waiter at the little empty table, and
their dusky length was not second even to Virginia's. As the newcomer sat
down, she faced Roger Broom.

"That woman's face looks somehow familiar to me," he said, "yet I can't
think where, if ever,