t?"

"It wouldn't be any use."

"What--is she ill!"

"She's gone."

"Gone!"

He looked at the confusion of the room, at the clothes strewn on the
furniture and the floor.

"Now I understand all that," he said. "But what was the matter? Did she
steal something, or--perhaps I ought to have had another woman in the
house."

"No, no; it wasn't that. I sent her away quite amicably; because I
thought she'd be in our way in the Fayyum. What could we do with her in
a tent?"

"You're going to manage without a maid?"

A radiant look of pleasure came into his face.

"You're a trump!" he said.

He bent down, put his hands gently on her shoulders, and gave her a long
kiss.

"And this is how you're managing!" he added, lifting himself up, and
speaking with a sort of tender humour as again he looked at the room. "I
must learn to maid you."

And he went about rather clumsily getting the things together, picking
them up by the wrong end, and laying them in a heap on the sofa.

"Ill do better another time," he said, when he had finished, rather
ruefully surveying his handiwork. "And now I'll call Hassan and get tea,
and while we're having it I'll tell you about our camp in the Fayyum. To
think of your giving up your maid!"

He kissed her again, with a lingering tenderness, and went out.

As soon as he was gone she got up. She had to search for a wrapper. She
did not know where any of her things were. How maddening it was to be
without a maid! More than once, now that Nigel was back and she could
not go to Baroudi, she almost wished that she had kept Marie. Would it
have been very unwise to keep her? She pulled out drawer after drawer.
She was quite hot and tired before she had found what she wanted. What
would life be like in a tent? She almost sickened at the thought of all
that was before her. Ah! here was the wrapper at last. She tore it out
from where it was lying with reckless violence, and put it on anyhow;
then suddenly her real nature, the continuous part of her, asserted
itself. She went to the mirror and adjusted it very carefully, very
deftly. Then she twisted up her hair simply, and considered herself for
a moment.

Had the new truth stamped itself yet upon her face, her body?

She saw before her a woman strongly, strikingly alive, thrilling with
life. The eyes, released from sleep, were ardent, were full of the
promises of passion; the lips were fresh, surely, and humid; the figure
was alluring and