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Page 15
With a great love of their respective mistresses as their sole bond in
common they stood, otherwise divided, staring at each other.
"Pleased to meet you again," volunteered country-bred Jane, offering a
plump hand.
"Hoping you are in good health," responded Maria Hobson, making a
corner in strawberry-leaves as she just touched the finger-tips.
"Wellington, you have met Dekko, I think," laughed the girl.
"Woomph!" grunted the dog disdainfully, as he cocked an eye at the
bird, which ruffled its feathers, spread its red tail and looked down
sideways and spitefully for a long moment.
"My Gawd!" it suddenly shrieked. "My Gawd!"
And it swung about and rubbed its soft grey pate against its mistress's
outrageous golden perruque, then hurled itself onto the captain's
shoulder.
CHAPTER V.
"_Oh, yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill_."
TENNYSON.
After the fight in the bazaar, the ducal party stayed for another
fortnight in Cairo, during which time Damaris saw as much of the place
and its surroundings as she could in fourteen days and a few hours out
of each of the fourteen nights; whilst her godmother played bridge or
poker, paid and received visits, took her to dances and parties, and
busied her fingers in the tangled threads Fate had tossed into her lap.
It was an understood thing that the girl should be ready to conduct the
old aristocrat to the dining-room at the dinner-hour and give her the
evening; other than that her time was her own, though, owing to her
innate courtesy and her love for her godmother, she never once absented
herself without having obtained permission.
"You are a positive tonic, child, in these perplexing days," remarked
her grace, when the girl had concluded the recital of the fight in the
bazaar. "Only, do remember to come straight to me if ever you get into
a real scrape."
And that night, the old lady, who had lost heavily at poker, fairly
snapped at Maria Hobson, who, tucking her up in bed, remarked, greatly
daring, upon the amount of liberty allowed the child.
"Don't be foolish, my good woman," she said, "and do for goodness' sake
mind your business of looking after me. Although my god-daughter may
bluff a bit for the fun of the game, and get let down a bit for her own
good, yet I shouldn't advise anyone to get seeing her too often. Fate
dealt her a royal straight flush in hearts, and better that you
can't--no! not even if you hold a full house of intrigue and bad intent
t'other end of Life's table."
"Humff!" replied the maid heavily through her nose, not having
understood one word of her mistress's admonition.
Each day at breakfast and at dinner a bunch, big or little, of simple
or hothouse flowers lay beside the girl's plate, without name or
message.
Now, the finding of flowers upon your table does not, in Egypt,
necessarily imply that the donor thereof is a son of the desert; the
ma�tre d'h�tel has been known to do it out of deference to your rank or
purse; and only once had Jane Coop had the mixed pleasure of meeting
the deaf-mute Nubian who daily left the posies at the hotel.
Refreshed from her siesta, she had descended to the hall _via_ the
stairs instead of the lift, and bumped into the ebony-hued slave as he
bent to lay a sheaf of flowers upon the matting outside her mistress's
door.
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