but not the kind that they were usually accustomed to: it was a wife
and not big game that was taking Sir Aubrey across the ocean on this
occasion. It had been in his mind for some time as an inevitable and
somewhat unpleasant necessity. Women bored him, and the idea of
marriage was distasteful, but a son to succeed him was imperative--a
Mayo must be followed by a Mayo. An heir was essential for the big
property that the family had held for hundreds of years. No woman had
ever attracted him, but of all women he had met American women were
less actively irritating to him, and so it was to America that he
turned in search of a wife. He proposed to take a house in New York for
a few months and later on in Newport, and it was for that that Diana's
company was considered indispensable. She would save him endless
trouble, as all arrangements could be left in her hands and Stephens'.
Having made up his mind to go through with a proceeding that he
regarded in the light of a sacrifice on the family altar, his wish was
to get it over and done with as soon as possible, and Diana's
interference in his plans had exasperated him. It was the first time
that their wills had crossed, and she shrugged her shoulders
impatiently, with a grimace at the recollection. A little more and it
would have degenerated into a vulgar quarrel. She banished Aubrey and
his selfishness resolutely from her mind. It was very hot, and she lay
very still in the narrow cot, wishing she had not been so rigid in the
matter of its width, and wondering if a sudden movement in the night
would precipitate her into the bath that stood alongside. She thought
regretfully of a punkah, and then smiled derisively at herself.

"Sybarite!" she murmured sleepily. "You need a few discomforts."

She was almost aggressively cheerful next morning at breakfast and for
the time that they lingered at the oasis after the baggage camels had