had delighted Jane Coop--and had offered the bunch to her.

"Oh, no, my man!" she had said, bridling, "you don't come over me that
way. Just you take that trash back to where it came from. My young
lady ain't that kind," and had shaken her fist in his face and flounced
downstairs to lay a complaint.

What with the militant maids, the parrot and the dog, the ducal party
was continually breaking out in some direction or another, but the
maître d'hôtel, who simply worshipped the old lady, merely smiled and
poured the oil of soothing words upon the troubled waters.

The girl had quite casually recounted the fight in the bazaar, and the
wise old woman had made no comment; but, all the same, next day she
indifferently asked a few questions of Lady Thistleton, who had a big
heart, narrow mind, an ever-wagging tongue and two daughters.

"Oh, that's the son of the Arab and the English girl. You must
remember the fuse there was in England over the runaway marriage--what
was her name?--how she could, you know----"

"Ah! yes. You must be talking of Jill Carden. I knew her very well.
Naughty girl, she refused the invitation I sent them asking them to
come to England and stay with me, and gave up writing to me after a
while. Does she live in Cairo?"

It seemed that Jill, the wife of the Sheikh el-Umbar, lived in the Flat
Oasis t'other side of the Canal, in Arabia proper, but, according to
current gossip, was at the moment upon a visit to her son at the House
'an Mahabbha, which had been built for the elder branch of the House