then--"

"And then," Mr. Bellingham interrupted, "the archdeacon will rush forth
and pelt that expert with Shepherd Kings and Seqenen-Ra and the whole
tag-rag and bobtail of the seventeenth dynasty. Oh, there'll be wigs on
the green, I can tell you."

"Yes, I expect there will be quite a lively little skirmish," said Miss
Bellingham. And thus dismissing the subject, she made an energetic
attack on the toast while her father refreshed himself with a colossal
yawn.

I watched her with furtive admiration and deep and growing interest. In
spite of her pallor, her weary eyes, and her drawn and almost haggard
face, she was an exceedingly handsome girl; and there was in her aspect
a suggestion of purpose, of strength and character that marked her off
from the rank and file of womanhood. I noted this as I stole an
occasional glance at her or turned to answer some remark addressed to
me; and I noted, too, that her speech, despite a general undertone of
depression, was yet not without a certain caustic, ironical humour. She
was certainly a rather enigmatical young person, but very decidedly
interesting.

When she had finished her repast she put aside the tray and, opening the
shabby handbag, asked:

"Do you take any interest in Egyptian history? We are as mad as hatters
on the subject. It seems to be a family complaint."

"I don't know much about it," I answered. "Medical studies are rather