attentive, but faintly indolent regard as before. Then the young man
smiled, with an air of frank amusement.

"That would seem to be a dispensation!" he laughed. "My sister and
the Madame Eversham--no, they would not be sympathetic!... But if
you can come," he went on quickly, leaning forward and speaking in a
hurried, lowered tone, "it can be arranged in an instant. I am to
telephone to my sister and she will send her car for you. It is not
far and it does not need but a few minutes for the visit--unless you
desire. I cannot escort you in the car--it is not _en règle_--but I
will come to the house and present you and then depart, that you
ladies may exchange the confidences.... Does that programme please
you?"

"I--I don't know your sister's name," said Arlee.

He smiled. "Nechedil Azade Seniha--she is the widow of Tewfik Pasha.
But say Madame simply to her--that will suffice. Shall I, then,
telephone her?"

Just an instant Arlee hesitated, while her imagination fluttered
about the thought like humming-birds about sweets. Already she was
thinking of the story she could have to tell to her fellow travelers
here and to the people at home. It was a chance, she repeated to
herself, in a thousand, and the familiar details of phones and
motors seemed to rob its suddenness of all strangeness.... Besides,
there was that matter of the Khedive's ball. It would be very
ungracious to refuse a few minutes' visit to a lady who was going to
so much trouble for her.