wide field for interest!'

I paused, lost in the volume of my admirable sentiments.

'How beautifully you talk, Helena! I wish I had the gift.'

'It doesn't mean very much,' I said truthfully.

'Oh, I think it's everything! And how companionable a girl is! I
quite envy you, this season, having Cecily constantly with you and
taking her about everywhere. Something quite new for you, isn't
it?'

'Absolutely,' said I; 'I am looking forward to it immensely. But it
is likely she will make her own friends, don't you think?' I added
anxiously.

'Hardly the first season. My girls didn't. I was practically their
only intimate for months. Don't be afraid; you won't be obliged to
go shares in Cecily with anybody for a good long while,' added Mrs.
Morgan kindly. 'I know just how you feel about THAT.'

The muddy water of the Ditch chafed up from under us against its
banks with a smell that enabled me to hide the emotions Mrs. Morgan
evoked behind my handkerchief. The pale desert was pictorial with
the drifting, deepening purple shadows of clouds, and in the midst a
blue glimmer of the Bitter Lakes, with a white sail on them. A
little frantic Arab boy ran alongside keeping pace with the ship.
Except for the smell, it was like a dream, we moved so quietly; on,
gently on and on between the ridgy clay banks and the rows of piles.