“You see,” said Miss Arbuthnot, “Cecil has done so very well that an ordinary situation as governess or High School mistress is not to be thought of for her. But here is an almost unique post waiting for her acceptance in which she may do work which might well be called making history. It is true that she must bind herself for five years or so, but this is less of a drawback in her case than in others. I do not myself think that she is likely to marry--at any rate, not early--for she is a little fastidious in her tastes,--not that this is to be regretted, but rather admired.” Mr Anstruther almost blushed when he heard his daughter’s future thus candidly discussed. It had not occurred to him to regard marriage in the light in which it appeared to Miss Arbuthnot--as a kind of devouring gulf which swallowed up the finest products of the female education movement--and it seemed to him indelicate to estimate probabilities so openly. But both ladies were so evidently unconscious of Miss Arbuthnot’s having said anything improper that he quickly recovered his composure and listened undisturbed to Lady Haigh’s _exposé_ of the advantages of the scheme. The consequence was that when Cecil came in her father’s last doubts had been removed, and he was ready to bid her God-speed in her enterprise. “Oh! Miss Arbuthnot, must I go?” she asked despairingly, when Mr Anstruther had hurried off to catch his train for Whitcliffe, and Cecil and the principal were at tea in the latter’s sanctum. “That is for you to decide,” answered Miss Arbuthnot. “That is just what papa said,” wailed Cecil; “but I don’t want to decide.” “That means that you don’t want to go to Baghdad?” said Miss Arbuthnot. “I want to go if it is right,” said Cecil; “but how am I to know whether it is right? Don’t you think it seems like going into temptation?” “Temptation of what kind?” asked Miss Arbuthnot. “Temptation to become a Mohammedan, do you mean? No, my dear Cecil, I cannot honestly say that I think the side of Islam you will see at Baghdad is likely to attract you to it.” “Now you are laughing at me,” said Cecil, reproachfully. “Dear child, I want to help you. If you feel that there is a work to be done in Baghdad, and that you are called to do it, go; if not, stay at home.” “But I am not to have anything to do with Azim Bey’s religious education. Denarien Bey said that the Pasha would look after that.” “You can show him a Christian life, and you can exercise a Christian influence,” said Miss Arbuthnot. “You have the honour of England and of Christianity in your hands, Cecil, and it will be your work to remove prejudice and to set an example of honesty and incorruptibility.” “But how am I to know that it is my work?” asked Cecil again.