* * * * *

Later, a vision of loveliness, she walked down the dining-room behind
the Duchess of Longacres, whilst continuous lamentations were wafted
through the spring-doors from the spot where sat a dog with
sticking-plaster across his nose and middle girt with a cummerbund of
pink boracic lint.

Beside the girl's place lay a huge bunch of crimson roses tied with
golden tassels; there was no card, name nor message.

She asked no question, neither did her godmother.

To what purpose should they? The one _knew_; the other firmly believed
in allowing the young to work out the salvation of their own souls;
which did not, however, mean that she would not keep a sharp look-out
in the future over the troubled sea of Life.

"I knew something would happen," thought the wise old lady, as she
passed a biscuit up to the parrot on her shoulder.

"_Kathir Khairak_," it said delightedly.

It merely means "thank you," but had taken weeks of teaching and
repeating to master.




CHAPTER III