Was I right?

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

An open square in front of the hotel had been turned into a garden. There were not many flowers in it, but there were a few trees and shrubs, and a small stone fountain stood in the centre. There was a seat in this garden, and Sir William, Evelyn, and I sat here for some time, watching the tourists coming in and out of the hotel, consulting their guidebooks, asking countless questions of their dragoman, and apparently very impatient to be once more on the move.

There were several French shops, in a block of buildings which formed one side of the square. Evelyn caught sight of these, and asked me if I thought she would be able to buy one or two little things which she was anxious to get before going to Jerusalem, "where," she said, "I suppose we shall find no shops at all."

"Go and see, my dear," said Sir William, "and I will wait here till you come back; I shall be close by if you want me for anything, and I can see which shops you are in as I sit here."

So Evelyn and I opened the gate of the hotel garden, and crossed the road to the shops. They were very curious shops, a great variety of articles seemed to be sold in them; all kinds of French goods, fancy articles of every description, and a few useful things, such as travelling bags, knapsacks, sunshades, and pith helmets.

We selected the shop which appeared most likely to contain all we wished to buy. Evelyn went in first, and I followed her. The shopman was at the other end of the shop, attending to some customers, and Evelyn and I examined the articles which were exposed for sale until he was ready to wait upon us. Then he came up to us, and asked in French what we wanted. Evelyn looked up from the box of ornaments over which she was bending, and was about to answer him, when I saw her suddenly start back in astonishment.

I looked up, to see what had taken her so much by surprise, and I saw in a moment what it was.

The young man in the shop was no French tradesman, as we had taken him to be; he was her cousin, Donald Trafford! Evelyn had not looked at him when we first came into the shop, but as soon as their eyes met she recognised him, in spite of his foreign dress and appearance; and he, at the same moment, recognised her.

Before we had time to recover from our surprise he was gone; he had disappeared through a door into an inner room, and had sent a young Frenchwoman to wait upon us.

"Oh, May," whispered Evelyn to me, "never mind about the things; let us go back to papa!"

I made some excuse to the French girl, telling her that we could not wait longer, and we left the shop at once.