"Starting to-night, arrive to-morrow morning. Love—Nigel."
She had been expecting such a message; she had known that it must come; yet when Hassan brought it into the garden, where she was sitting at the moment, she felt as if she had been struck. Hassan waited calmly beside her till, with an almost violent gesture, she showed him there was no answer. When he had gone she sat for a moment with the telegram on her knees; then she cried out for Ibrahim. He heard her voice, and came, with his sauntering gait, moving slowly among the rose-trees.
"I've a telegram from Cairo," she said.
She took up the paper and showed it to him.
"My lord Arminigel—he is comin' back?"
"Yes."
"That is very good noos, very nice noos indeed," said Ibrahim, with an air of sleepy satisfaction.
"He starts to-night, and will be here with the express to-morrow morning."
"This is a most bootiful business!" said Ibrahim, blandly. "My lord he has been away so long he will be glad to see us again."
She looked at him, but he did not look at her. Turning a flower in his white teeth, he was gazing towards the river, with an unruffled composure which she felt almost as a rebuke. But why should it matter to him? Baroudi had paid him. Nigel paid him. He had no reason to be upset.