Sekhet. Irene Miller
All the guests were quite well known to their young hostess with the exception of Mdlle. Feronnier and Tony and Lucinda Belmont. As Morris had said, there was little, so far as the average observer could discern, either to like or to dislike in the quiet, flaxen-haired, little French girl. Lucinda Belmont, on the contrary, possessed a distinct and striking personality. Erect in carriage, and bearing herself with an air of unassailable self-confidence—with a full bust, and a waist so disproportionately tiny that Evarne surveyed it with mingled scorn and wonder—she was unmistakably what is popularly meant by "a fine woman." Her big eyes, fringed by long, black lashes, were the tiniest bit protruding, whereby they were enabled to roll up and down and round about in wondrous glances, languishing or flashing, according to the requirements of the occasion. Her features were ordinary, yet her vivacity, her animation, together with her carefully chosen costumes, her elaborate coiffure, and the brilliance given by a most discreet and effective use of paint and powder, transformed her into a woman who excited appreciative attention from most men.
Despite her now considerable store of worldly wisdom, Evarne had not got rid of a somewhat unwise confidence in humanity. Tennyson tells how Vivian was able to see evil of one sort or another in the most noble of characters through the simple method of "imputing her own vileness" to the thoughts, the deeds, the motives of others. In the same manner did Evarne instinctively credit everyone with her own loyalty and honour. Assuredly Justine Feronnier and Lucinda were both unusually striking representatives of the female sex as far as appearance went. But the French girl was understood to belong to Tom Talling, and Lucinda—politely described as Mrs. Belmont—had the legitimate owner of that surname in attendance upon her, so Evarne experienced no unpleasant anxiety in beholding the attractive flaxen demureness of the one, or the flashing brunette brilliance of the other.
The long days devoted to the uneventful journey of "The Radiant Isis" through the flat reaches of the lower Nile were relieved from monotony by the spirit of mirth that possessed all aboard. Morris had indeed chosen his companions with discrimination, if frivolity and constant laughter were what he sought.
Of course each individual was provided with that hallmark of the traveller in the East, a hand-camera, and the results of the snap-shots of these amateur photographers caused many a shriek of laughter. Morris, Guiseppe and Signor Varesio had all brought their foils. But neither Italian had much chance against Morris, who was quite a champion in this art, to which he owed much of that slim, youthful-looking figure that was his pride. Then there were games, dances, visits from Arab entertainers, fantasias by the crew—all serving to make time pass delightfully.
Yet, slowly but surely, unhappiness crept in. The whole trouble had root in the resolute transference of Tony Belmont's ardent attentions from Lucinda to the altogether unappreciative Evarne. She found him always by her side, even when it must have been obvious to the meanest intelligence that she and Morris were more than contented alone. At first she bore his society with outward patience, but soon there came an irritated dislike to this destroyer of so many pleasant tête-à-têtes between herself and the man who still ruled her entire heart.
Besides, there was the deserted, disconsolate, sulky Lucinda to worry about, and since neither Evarne's snubs nor hints, or even actual commands, could drive Tony back to his neglected privileges, it became obviously Morris's duty as host to do his best to prevent the forsaken one from feeling too overwhelmingly lonely. So it came gradually to pass, to Evarne's dismay, that Morris spent most of his time by Mrs. Belmont.
The girl felt herself so helpless; in the privacy of their cabin Morris always answered her loving complaints so gently and affectionately, deploring the fact but insisting on its necessity and its temporary nature, that she sought at first to be trustful and comforted. But the time came when she could no longer refuse to see that her lover was, in sooth, fully satisfied with the present state of affairs, and desired no other.
Then the days grew full of anguish to the girl. Justine alone noticed aught amiss, and showed a desire to advise as how best to cope with the situation. But Evarne could not bring herself to actually acknowledge that here she was suddenly plunged into a vulgar struggle with another woman—and one so coarse, ignorant and inferior to herself—for the possession of a man.
Instead, all that her youthful wisdom prompted was to strive to arouse jealous doubts and fears in Morris's breast. So, for a weary, dreary day or two she was bewilderingly responsive to Tony's dull talk and banal and often over-bold compliments. But all she gained, as her laugh rang out gay and bright enough to rivet attention, was an indulgent smile from Morris, and the irritating remark from Lucinda—
"How splendidly you two do get on together! And I'll warrant all your little jokes are secret, so that Mr. Kenyon and I must be resigned to be left out in the cold."
CHAPTER IX
HOW EGYPT WAS RUINED FOR EVARNE
At length the dahabeah drew up by the wharf of Luxor. From the beginning of the cruise the arrival at this world-famed spot had been eagerly anticipated, and on the very first morning the travellers gaily mounted donkeys and set forth on the short journey to the ruined Temples of Karnak. The spirited animals that they rode—so very different from the poor little European drudges that go by the same name—covered the ground with celerity, the dusky donkey-boys running hard behind, keeping up with difficulty, yet shouting and flourishing their sticks, to urge on any of the fiery mounts that showed signs of a failing lack of ambition to be foremost in the race.
On arriving at Karnak, loud was the expression of amazement at the extent of country over which was spread the ruins of this vast collection of temples, with their halls, their courts, their huge entrances, their obelisks, columns and statues.
"I believe really it would be quite possible that one should lose one's self hopelessly amid all these ruins," declared little Justine, her pale face still flushed from the fun of the amusing gallop.
The only dismal countenance in the party was that of Hassan, their dragoman. This gorgeous and most self-satisfied personage was always rather inclined to sulk when expeditions were in progress. He then looked upon his lot as that of a much injured individual. Morris knew Egypt well, and his interesting talks on the topic had made the old history and religion intensely attractive to Evarne before and during the voyage. He now very rightly considered himself a far more interesting cicerone than the verbosely ignorant Arab. He therefore restricted Hassan to the mere business details, while he himself undertook the task of conducting his guests, of enlightening their ignorance and training their taste.
As time passed and the day grew in heat, luncheon became the next item on the programme, and at this point Hassan, coming into a portion of his kingdom again, brightened perceptibly. He carefully spread out the dainty meal in the shadow cast by a great wall, whereon sculptured pictorial records of the war-triumphs of a Pharaoh dead for thousands of years still preserved his royal memory green to posterity. Then, seating the company, the dragoman waited upon them with satisfied importance.
After all had recruited their strength for the afternoon's further exploration, Morris suggested that they should mount the sandy slope and stone steps that led to the summit of the pylon—the great gate that formed the entrance to the whole of the ruins. The view thus obtained was wonderful, he assured them; the sun was not too hot to defy the shelter provided by veils and parasols, while any cool breezes that might chance to be wandering around would be more easily found at a height. Thus encouraged, everyone started with such energy up the long, severe slope, that within a very few minutes a halt had to be called, while all stood and panted breathlessly.
"More haste, less speed," declared Morris. "Now, Mrs. Belmont, you and I will play tortoise to their hare, and we will just see who gets to the top first." And, proffering his arm as a support to Lucinda, he encouraged her to persevere.
Tony, who had been sitting cross-legged on the sand, sprang to his feet, and with a sweeping bow offered Evarne a similar attention. She accepted it with a smile, and in due course the summit