An Unprotected Female at the Pyramids | Page 7

that she preferred Mr. Ingram to her

mother. She arrested her donkey, therefore, till Mrs. Damer overtook
her; and Mr. Ingram, as he paused for a moment with her while she did
so, fell into the hands of Miss Dawkins.
"I cannot think, Fanny, how you get on so quick," said Mrs. Damer.
"I'm always last; but then my donkey is such a very nasty one. Look
there, now; he's always trying to get me off."
"We shall soon be at the Pyramids now, mamma."
"How on earth I am ever to get back again I cannot think. I am so tired
now that I can hardly sit."
"You'll be better, mamma, when you get your luncheon and a glass of
wine."
"How on earth we are to eat and drink with those nasty Arab people
around us, I can't conceive. They tell me we shall be eaten up by them.
But, Fanny, what has Mr. Ingram been saying to you all the day?"
"What has he been saying, mamma? Oh! I don't know;--a hundred
things, I dare say. But he has not been talking to me all the time."
"I think he has, Fanny, nearly, since we crossed the river. Oh, dear! oh,
dear! this animal does hurt me so! Every time he moves he flings his
head about, and that gives me such a bump." And then Fanny
commiserated her mother's sufferings, and in her commiseration
contrived to elude any further questionings as to Mr. Ingram's
conversation.
"Majestic piles, are they not?" said Miss Dawkins, who, having
changed her companion, allowed her mind to revert from Mount Sinai
to the Pyramids. They were now riding through cultivated ground, with
the vast extent of the sands of Libya before them. The two Pyramids
were standing on the margin of the sand, with the head of the
recumbent sphynx plainly visible between them. But no idea can be
formed of the size of this immense figure till it is visited much more
closely. The body is covered with sand, and the head and neck alone

stand above the surface of the ground. They were still two miles distant,
and the sphynx as yet was but an obscure mount between the two vast
Pyramids.
"Immense piles!" said Miss Dawkins, repeating her own words.
"Yes, they are large," said Mr. Ingram, who did not choose to indulge
in enthusiasm in the presence of Miss Dawkins.
"Enormous! What a grand idea!--eh, Mr. Ingram? The human race does
not create such things as those nowadays!"
"No, indeed," he answered; "but perhaps we create better things."
"Better! You do not mean to say, Mr. Ingram, that you are an utilitarian.
I do, in truth, hope better things of you than that. Yes! steam mills are
better, no doubt, and mechanics' institutes and penny newspapers. But
is nothing to be valued but what is useful?" And Miss Dawkins, in the
height of her enthusiasm, switched her donkey severely over the
shoulder.
"I might, perhaps, have said also that we create more beautiful things,"
said Mr. Ingram.
"But we cannot create older things."
"No, certainly; we cannot do that."
"Nor can we imbue what we do create with the grand associations
which environ those piles with so intense an interest. Think of the
mighty dead, Mr. Ingram, and of their great homes when living. Think
of the hands which it took to raise those huge blocks--"
"And of the lives which it cost."
"Doubtless. The tyranny and invincible power of the royal architects
add to the grandeur of the idea. One would not wish to have back the
kings of Egypt."

"Well, no; they would be neither useful nor beautiful."
"Perhaps not; and I do not wish to be picturesque at the expense of my
fellow-creatures."
"I doubt, even, whether they would be picturesque."
"You know what I mean, Mr. Ingram. But the associations of such
names, and the presence of the stupendous works with which they are
connected, fill the soul with awe. Such, at least, is the effect with
mine."
"I fear that my tendencies, Miss Dawkins, are more realistic than your
own."
"You belong to a young country, Mr. Ingram, and are naturally prone to
think of material life. The necessity of living looms large before you."
"Very large, indeed, Miss Dawkins."
"Whereas with us, with some of us at least, the material aspect has
given place to one in which poetry and enthusiasm prevail. To such
among us the associations of past times are very dear. Cheops, to me, is
more than Napoleon Bonaparte."
"That is more than most of your countrymen can say, at any rate, just at
present."
"I am a woman," continued Miss Dawkins.
Mr. Ingram took off his hat in acknowledgment both of the
announcement and of the fact.
"And to us