But he did not know Miss Dawkins. “Oh, Mr. Damer,” she said, and as she spoke her smile became almost blander than it was before; “oh, Mr. Damer, I could not think of suffering you to be so liberal; I could not, indeed. But I shall be quite content that you should pay everything, and let me settle with you in one sum afterwards.” Mr. Damer’s breath was now rather more under his own command. “I am afraid, Miss Dawkins,” he said, “that Mrs. Damer’s weak state of health will not admit of such an arrangement.” “What, about the paying?” “Not only as to that, but we are a family party, Miss Dawkins; and great as would be the benefit of your society to all of us, in Mrs. Damer’s present state of health, I am afraid—in short, you would not find it agreeable.—And therefore—” this he added, seeing that she was still about to persevere—“I fear that we must forego the advantage you offer.” And then, looking into his face, Miss Dawkins did perceive that even her audacity would not prevail. “Oh, very well,” she said, and moving from the stone on which she had been sitting, she walked off, carrying her head very high, to a corner of the Pyramid from which she could look forth alone towards the sands of Libya. In the mean time another little overture was being made on the top of the same Pyramid,—an overture which was not received quite in the same spirit. While Mr. Damer was recovering his breath for the sake of answering Miss Dawkins, Miss Damer had walked to the further corner of the square platform on which they were placed, and there sat herself down with her face turned towards Cairo. Perhaps it was not singular that Mr. Ingram should have followed her. This would have been very well if a dozen Arabs had not also followed them. But as this was the case, Mr. Ingram had to play his game under some difficulty. He had no sooner seated himself beside her than they came and stood directly in front of the seat, shutting out the view, and by no means improving the fragrance of the air around them. “And this, then, Miss Damer, will be our last excursion together,” he said, in his tenderest, softest tone. “De good Englishman will gib de poor Arab one little backsheish,” said an Arab, putting out his hand and shaking Mr. Ingram’s shoulder. “Yes, yes, yes; him gib backsheish,” said another. “Him berry good man,” said a third, putting up his filthy hand, and touching Mr. Ingram’s face. “And young lady berry good, too; she give backsheish to poor Arab.” “Yes,” said a fourth, preparing to take a similar liberty with Miss Damer.