in.

"I think I shall spend my day there sketching," she said.

"All right; only you mustn't be alone," answered Mr. Stuart in his
rather imperious way. "You'd better take Colquhoun and his sister along
with you. They're artists, and he knows something of the language and
the ways of the Arabs."

A mutinous look came over Marjorie's face. She was not going to join
company with Mr. and Miss Colquhoun any more. She had struck up a rather
impulsive friendship with them at the outset of the voyage, but now she
could not bear them. It was not an exceptional experience with her. She
was eager to be friends with all the world; but again and again she
discovered that too promiscuous friendship was not always wise. It had
been so in this case, and Mr. Colquhoun had gone too far in some of his
expressions of admiration. Marjorie had discovered that his views were
much too lax to please her. She had resolved to have very little more to
do with them for the future. To ask to join them on the morrow, even if
they were going sketching, was a thing she could not and would not
condescend to.

No, her mind was quickly made up. It was all nonsense about its not
being safe. Why, there were English families and agents living in the
place, and she would never be silly and lose herself or her head. She
would land with the rest. There were about five-and-twenty passengers,
and all of them would go ashore, and most would probably go for the
donkey-ride into the desert. But she would quietly slip away, and nobody
would be anxious. Some would think she had gone with the Colquhouns, who
always sketched, or perhaps with Mr. Stuart, who had taken care of her
in Tangiers. She was an independent member of society--nobody's especial
charge. In the crowded streets of an Arab town nothing would be easier
than to slip away from the party soon after landing; and then she would
have a glorious day of liberty, wandering about, and making her own
studies and sketches, and joining the rest at the appointed time, when
they would be going back to the ship.

So Marjorie put her paints and sketching pad up, provided herself with
everything needful, and slept happily in her narrow berth, eagerly
waiting for the morrow, when so many new wonders would be revealed.

The morning dawned clear and fair, and Marjorie was early on deck,
watching with delight the beautiful effects of light as the sun rose
over the solemn mountains and lighted up the wide, lonely dese