into the train for Port Said by Ben Kelham,
who, inwardly kicking at her sage advice, looked as despondent as a
camel who considers its strength unequal to its burden.

"Cheer up, lad," she cried as the train moved off. "Cheer up;
something is sure to happen before long."

Which was a perfectly safe prophecy to make where Damaris was concerned.

Arrived at Port Said, she put off in a boat with her maid and her
parrot, and found her godchild, who did not expect her, on deck,
entranced with all she saw.

Yes! of course Port Said is a sink of iniquity and a place of odours
and a fold for native wolves in sheep's clothing; also a centre for
antiquities made in Birmingham, or by the vendor himself in the hot
weather; and a market for things which should not be sold, much less
bought.

In fact, in one short sentence, it is a deal of cosmopolitan
wrong-doing.

All the same, you need not buy and you need not listen nor look, and if
it is the first bit of the Orient you have meet with for the first time
in your life, well! it is the East, and jolly exciting and interesting,
too.

Damaris rushed at the old lady, and having curtsied to her, gathered
her up in her strong arms and hugged her tightly, just as Captain X,
who during one trip had had the duchess as passenger and therefore
loved her, came along.

As they turned in the direction of the dining-saloon, the girl looked
over her shoulder at the two maids, and smiled.

With a great love of their respective mistresses as their sole bond in
common they stood, otherwise divided, staring at each other.

"Pleased to meet you again," volunteered country-bred Jane, offering a
plump hand.

"Hoping you are in good health," responded Maria Hobson, making a
corner in strawberry-leaves as she just touched the finger-tips.

"Wellington, you have met Dekko, I think," laughed the girl.

"Woomph!" grunted the dog disdainfully, as he cocked an eye at the
bird, which ruffled its feathers, spread its red tail and looked down
sideways and spitefully for a long moment.

"My Gawd!" it suddenly shrieked. "My Gawd!"

And it swung about and rubbed its soft grey pate against its mistress's
outrageous golden perruque, then hurled itself onto the captain's
shoulder.

CHAPTER V.

"_Oh, yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill_."

TENNYSON.

After the fight in the bazaar, the ducal party stayed for another
fortnight in Cairo, during whi