"I wonder when he will begin to
suspect it?"

"Men have to take their time over things like that," remarked Henriette.
"What hideous flowers these are! I think I shall throw them out of the
window."

"No, don't!"

"Why not?"

"They are a symbol of your reconciliation with Armand Gillier."

"He isn't altogether a fool, I fancy," remarked Henriette, laying
Gillier's bouquet down on the seat beside her. "But we shall see."

"Oh, Max! Yes, come in and sit with us!"

The faces of the two women changed as Max Elliot joined them.

CHAPTER XXIV

After their return from Constantine Mrs. Shiffney and her party only
stayed two nights at Mustapha. Then they descended to the harbor and
went on board _The Wanderer_, which weighed anchor and set sail for
Monte Carlo. Before leaving they paid a visit to Djenan-el-Maqui to say
adieu to Charmian.

The day was unusually hot for the time of year, and both Mrs. Shiffney
and Madame Sennier were shrouded in white veils with patterns. These,
the latest things from Paris, were almost like masks. Little of the
faces beneath them could be seen. But no doubt they preserved
complexions from the destructive influence of the sun.

Jacques Sennier had told his friends and his wife the story of his days
of desertion. A name summed it up, Djenan-el-Maqui. With the utmost
vivacity, however, he had described all he had eaten, drunk, smoked, and
done in that hospitable house and garden; the impression he had made
upon the occupants and had received from them.

"I am beloved by all!" he had cried, with enthusiasm. "They would die
for me. As for the good Pierre, each night he led me home as if I were
his own child!"

"We must certainly go and thank them," said Mrs. Shiffney, laughing.

The visit was not without intensities.

"We've come to say 'Good-bye,'" said Mrs. Shiffney, when they came into
the "harem," as she persisted in calling the drawing-room. "We are just
back from our little run, and now we must be off to Monte Carlo. By the
way, we came across your husband in Constantine."

"I know. He wrote to me all about it," said Charmian.

Claude had really written a very short note, ending with the maddening
phrase, "all news when we meet." She was burning with curiosity, was
tingling almost with suspicion. As she looked at those veils, and saw
the shining of the feminine eyes behind them, it seemed to her that the
two women lay in ambush while she stood defenseless in the ope