from Assiout, where Baroudi had left her
when he had finished his business affairs and was ready to start for
Cairo. It was Nigel's wish that he and his wife should join her there.

"Denderah was the first temple you and I saw together," he said. "Let's
see it more at our leisure. And let us ask Aphrodite to bless our
voyage."

"Hathor! What, are you turning pagan?" she said.

He laughed as he looked into her blue eyes.

"Scarcely; but she was the Egyptian Goddess of Beauty, and I don't think
she could deny her blessing to you."

Then she was looking radiant!

That cold which had made her shudder in the night by the sacred lake had
been left in the desolation of Libya. Surely, it could never come to her
here in the golden warmth of Upper Egypt. She said to herself that she
would not shudder again now that she had escaped from that blanched end
of the world where desperation had seized her.

The day of departure for the Nile journey had come, and Nigel and she
set foot upon the _Loulia_ for the first time as proprietors.

They passed the doors of the servants' cabins, and came into their own
quarters. Ibrahim followed softly behind with a smiling face, and Hamza,
standing still in the sunshine beneath the golden letters, looked after
them imperturbably.

Baroudi's "den" had been swept and garnished. Flowers and small branches
of mimosa decorated it, as if this day were festal. The writing-table,
which had been loaded with papers, was now neat and almost bare. But
all, or nearly all, Baroudi's books were still in their places. The
marvellous prayer rugs strewed the floor. Ibrahim had set sticks of
incense burning in silver holders. Upon the dining-room table, beyond
the screen of mashrebeeyah work, still stood the tawdry Japanese vase.
And the absurd cuckoo clock uttered its foolish sound to greet them.

"The eastern house!" said Nigel. "You little thought you would ever be
mistress of it, did you, Ruby? How wonderful these prayer rugs are! But
we must get rid of that vase."

"Why?" she said hastily, almost sharply.

He looked at her in surprise.

"You don't mean to say you like it? Besides, it doesn't belong to the
room. It's a false note."

"Of course. But it appeals to my sense of humour--like that ridiculous
cuckoo clock. Don't let's change anything. The incongruities are too
delicious."

"You are a regular baby!" he said. "All right. Shall we make Baroudi's
'den' your boudoir?"

She nodded, smili