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“Do me the honour to present me, Lady Haigh,” said the stranger, in a deep voice which seemed to be subdued for the occasion.

“Major Keeling, Miss Ross,” said Lady Haigh promptly. She was enjoying herself.

“I hear you wish to come up to Alibad with us,” said Major Keeling abruptly. “Can you ride?”

“Yes, I am very fond of it.”

“I don’t mean trotting along an English road. Can you ride on through the sand hour after hour, so as to keep up with the column, and not complain? Complaints would mean that you would go no farther.”

“I can promise I won’t complain. If I feel I can’t stick on my horse any longer, I will get some one to tie me into the saddle.” Penelope smiled slightly. This catechism was not without its humorous side.

“Can you cut down your baggage to regulation limits? Let me see, what did I promise you, Lady Haigh? A camel? Well, half that. Can you do with a camel between you?”

“I think so.” Penelope was conscious of Lady Haigh’s face of agony.

“You must, if you come. Can you do what you are told?”