CHAPTER XIII

AN UNDERGROUND PROPOSAL


I didn't sleep much that night, for thinking of Monny; and when I did
sleep, I dreamed of her; tangled dreams, in which she was Monny Gilder
with Brigit O'Brien's eyes. Could it be possible that she liked me?
Mrs. East ought to know. I made up my mind that to-morrow I would begin
by feeling my way, but when to-morrow came I had no time to feel
anything which concerned my private affairs.

It seemed, or so I was told "for my own good" by Miss Hassett-Bean,
that the Candace people thought it "snobby" for me to have indulged in
a private dinner-party, and to have hustled them off in a drove to the
Sphinx while I went leisurely with my smart friends. They knew all
about the feast on the roof, and were of opinion that they ought to
have been there. Did I consider my American heiress better than they,
better even than the family of an ex-Lord Mayor? If I wished to make up
lost ground, I must devote myself to duty, and be nicer than ever to
everybody.

This was one of the moments when I was tempted to throw over my job;
but I remembered the reward, and set myself once more to the earning of
it. For the next few days I scarcely saw Monny or Brigit, or even heard
what was happening to them--for they had "done" the principal sights of
Cairo, and I (at the head of the _Candace_ crowd) was "doing" them. As
if in a game of "Follow my Leader," I led the band from mosque to
mosque; not indeed visiting the whole two hundred and sixty-four, but
calling on the best ones. To begin with, I collected the Set on the