"I hear he says he will come back in glory, and then Egypt will be at his feet. _Bismillah!_" said the Princess, raising her eyes in mock reverence, and then laughing gaily she added— "Perhaps—who knows?—before that time comes some woman of the harem may find her opportunity. Jealousy—envy—revenge—one may see how the world goes without eyes, my beauty!" Helena sat motionless; she was scarcely able to breathe. "Good luck to her, I say!" said the Princess. "She’ll do more for Egypt than all the Nunehams and Sirdars put together." Then she looked round at Helena and said— "I’ve shocked you, haven’t I, nay dear? Women in the West don’t do these things, do they? No, they are civilised, and when they have been wronged by men they take them into the courts and make them pay. Faugh! There can be no red blood in women’s veins in your countries." The Princess rummaged in her bag for her powder puff, used it vigorously, put away her smelling bottle, and then rose to go, saying— "I don’t mean you, my sweet. Your mother was Jewish, wasn’t she?—and it was a Jewish woman who destroyed the captain of the Assyrians and smote off his head with his own falchion. Women can’t fight their battles with swords, though. But," laughing and patting Helena’s hand again, "what has Allah given them such big black eyes for? Adieu, my dear! Adieu!" Helena stood in the middle of the floor where the Princess had left her and slowly looked around. For a long time she remained there thinking. Was woman so utterly helpless as she had supposed? And when she was deeply wronged, when her dear ones were torn from her, when she was a victim of cruel violence and heartless hypocrisy, and the law failed her, and the State—having its own ends to serve—tried to shuffle her off, was she not justified in using against her enemy the only weapons which God had given her? At that she grew hot and then cold, and then a sense o£ shame came over her and she covered her face with her hands. "What am I thinking of?" she asked herself, and the floor seemed to slide from under her feet. The thought which the Princess had put into her mind was treason to her love for Gordon. That love was a sacred thing to her, and it would always remain so, even though she might never see Gordon again. Love itself was sacred, and she who gave it away for any gain of vengeance or revenge was a bad woman. Helena sat down with her elbows on the desk and her chin resting on her hands and stared out of the window. After a while a kind of relief came to her. She began to recall some of the Princess’s parting words. "She will do more for Egypt than all the Nunehams and Sirdars put together." That seemed to justify the thought that had taken possession of her. She began to feel herself the champion of justice, and to find the good conscience for which she sought.