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Daisy Norsham had long ago seized upon Gabriel Pendle, and was chatting with him on the edge of the circle, quite heedless of her chaperon's monologue. When Mrs Pansey saw the bishop she swooped down on him before he could get out of the way, which he would have done had courtesy permitted it.
"How deuced pleased she'll be to find I'm a white man after all," he reflected. "Supposing I'd really turned out a replica of that unshaved heathen on the wall poor girl, what a dull evening she'd have spent! Perhaps I'd better break the news gently for the chaperon's sake, but once we get her of to bed I rather fancy the fair Julia and I will smile together over my dear uncle's dressing-gown!"
The four girls ran up and down the bank, straining their eyes in anxious glances out over the wide stretch of water. There was no houseboat in sight. It had vanished as completely as though it had really been a "Ship of Dreams." "Perhaps you have made a mistake in the place, Madge," was the chaperon's first remark as she joined the excited party. Madge compressed her red lips.
Until that rather scornful disclaimer of the Duke's son, Mrs. Bailey's piece of fashionable intelligence had served whether Adrian believed it or not as a sort of chaperon's aegis extended over this interview. It had protected him against himself against his impulse to break through a silence that his three weeks' memory of this girl's image had made painful.
Will every one please leave me alone?" The three other girls and Miss Jenny Ann sat for a while on the deck of their pretty boat. Eleanor kept her head buried in her chaperon's lap. She cried a little, partly from sympathy with Madge and partly from amazement and horror at the story she had just heard. Very quietly Lillian told what had happened.
Friend could interpose, the girl's nimble fingers had tied the narrow velvet carrying a round locket which was her chaperon's only ornament. Drawing back a little, she looked critically at the general effect. Mrs. Friend flushed, and presently started in alarm, when Helena took up the comb lying on the dressing-table. "What are you going to do?" "Only just to alter your hair a little. Do you mind?
"I was never less alone than when by myself." Next morning, with her chaperon's energetic daughters, Damaris found herself one of the herd foregathered on the Nile bank preparatory to the excursion to the Valley of the Kings, and later in the afternoon by mountain path over the ridge to that marvel of antiquity the Terrace-Temple of Deir el-Bahari.
Milward, reclining in her berth, chattered on, whilst her companion brushed her heavy, dark hair, and imbibed a strong feeling of interest and pity for the good-looking hero of her chaperon's impressive sketch.
And so, both to break their chaperon's authority, the girls fidgeted and fumed, getting more impatient and hungrier with every leaden minute that dragged itself by until almost three-quarters of an hour had passed.
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