“Yes, because I hated Egypt,” said St. Aldegonde. “I hated the pyramids, and I was disappointed with the dancing-girls; and it seemed to me that, if it had not been for the whip, we never should have been able to escape. But things are very different now.” “Yes, they are,” said Bertram, in a melancholy tone. “You do not think of returning?” said St. Aldegonde. “Instantly,” replied Bertram. “I have a letter from the duke which is peremptory. The county is dissatisfied with my absence. And mine is a queer constituency; very numerous and several large towns; the popularity of my family gained me the seat, not their absolute influence.” “My constituents never trouble me,” said St. Aldegonde. “You have none,” said Bertram. “Well, if I were member for a metropolitan district I would not budge. And I little thought you would have deserted me.” “Ah!” sighed Bertram. “You’re discontented, because your amusements are interrupted. But think of my position, torn from a woman whom I adore.” “Well, you know you must have left her sooner or later,” urged St. Aldegonde. “Why?” asked Bertram. “You know what Lothair told us. She is engaged to her cousin the Prince of Samos, and—” “If I had only the Prince of Samos to deal with, I should care little,” said Bertram. “Why, what do you mean?” “That Euphrosyne is mine, if my family will sanction our union, but not otherwise.” St. Aldegonde gave a long whistle, and he added, “I wish Bertha were here. She is the only person I know who has a head.” “You see, my dear Granville, while you are talking of your little disappointments, I am involved in awful difficulties.” “You are sure about the Palace of Samos?” “Clear your head of that. There is no engagement of any kind between him and Euphrosyne. The visit to the island was only a preliminary ceremony—just to show himself. No doubt the father wishes the alliance; nor is there any reason to suppose that it would be disagreeable to the son; but, I repeat it—no engagement exists.” “If I were not your brother-in-law, I should have been very glad to have married Euphrosyne myself,” said St. Aldegonde. “Yes, but what am I to do?” asked Bertram, rather impatiently. “It will not do to write to Brentham,” said St. Aldegonde, gravely; “that I see clearly.” Then, after musing a while, he added: “I am vexed to leave our friends here and shall miss them sadly. They are the most agreeable people I ever knew. I never enjoyed myself so much. But we must think of nothing but your affairs. We must return instantly. The whip will be an excuse, but the real business will be Euphrosyne. I should delight in having her for a sister-in-law, but the affair will require management. We can make short work of getting home: steam to Marseilles, leave the yacht there, and take the railroad. I have half a mind to telegraph to Bertha to meet us there. She would be of great use.”