they retired at once to their cabins, and were soon asleep.

The next day, which was Sunday, the wind blew, but by the afternoon
calmed down again, and Tamara decided to dress and go on deck.

"Mrs. Hardcastle went up some hours ago; she was ready for luncheon,
ma'am," her maid told her.

"She left a message for you to join her when you woke."

The ship was the usual sort of ship that goes from Alexandria to
Trieste, and the two English ladies had secured places for their chairs
in the most protected spot. Tamara rather looked forward to being able
to sit there in the moonlight and enjoy the Mediterranean.

Her maid preceded her with her rug and cushion and book, and it was not
until she was quite settled that she took cognizance of an empty chair
at her other side.

"You lazy child!" Millicent Hardcastle said. "To sleep all day like
this! It has been quite beautiful since luncheon, and I have had a most
agreeable time. That extremely polite nice young Russian Prince we met
at the Khedive's ball is here, dear; indeed, that is his chair next
you. He is with Stephen Strong. We have been talking for hours."

Tamara felt suddenly almost cold.

"I never saw him in the train or coming on board," she said, with
almost a gasp.