"Call me 'my lord' no more. . . . But I will go
back to England to her that's waiting at the Red Mansion, and you will
remember, Soolsby--"
Slowly the great flotilla of dahabiehs floated with the strong current
down towards Cairo, the great sails swelling to the breeze that blew from
the Libyan Hills. Along the bank of the Nile thousands of Arabs and
fellaheen crowded to welcome "the Saadat," bringing gifts of dates and
eggs and fowls and dourha and sweetmeats, and linen cloth; and even in
the darkness and in the trouble that was on her, and the harrowing regret
that she had not been with Eglington in his last hour--she little knew
what Eglington had said to Faith in that last hour--Hylda's heart was
soothed by the long, loud tribute paid to David.
As she sat in the evening light, David and Lacey came, and were received
by the Duchess of Snowdon, who could only say to David, as she held his
hand, "Windlehurst sent his regards to you, his loving regards. He was
sure you would come home--come home. He wished he were in power for your
sake.
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