It Happened in Egypt | Page 9

tried to reassure her. "There might be a prince or two, handsome and
cultivated, educated in England, perhaps, for some of the 'swells' are
sent from Egypt to Oxford and Cambridge, just as they are in India. But
even if Miss Gilder should meet a man of that sort, I should say she
was too sensible and clear-headed--"
"Oh, she is, almost too much so for a young girl, and she has a
detestation for any one with a drop of dark blood, in America. She
doesn't even like Jews; and that makes friction between us, if we ever
happen to argue, for--maybe you don't know?--my mother was a
Jewess. I'm proud of her memory. But that's just why, if you can
understand, Monny's afraid in Egypt. Some girls would like to have a
tiny flirtation with a gorgeous Eastern creature (of course, he must be a
bey, or prince or something, otherwise it would be infra dig), but
Monny would hate herself for being attracted. Yet I know she dreads it
happening, because of the way I've heard her rave against the heroines
of novels, saying she has no patience with them; they ought to have
more strength of mind, even if it broke their hearts."

I wondered if Biddy, too, suspected some such fear in the mind of her
adored girl, and if that were one reason why she had turned
matchmaker for my benefit. Since the first day out she had used
strategems to throw us together: and it seemed that, years ago, when
she used to teach the little girl French, Monny's favourite stories had
been of Castle Killeena, and my boyish exploits birds'-nesting on the
crags. (Biddy said that this was a splendid beginning, if I had the sense
to follow it up.)
"And you?" I went on to Mrs. East. "What do you feel is going to
happen to you in the land of Khem?"
"Oh, I don't know," she sighed. "I wish I did! And 'afraid' isn't exactly
the word. I just know that something will happen. I wonder if history
does repeat itself? I should hate to be bitten by an asp----"
"Asps are out of fashion," I comforted her. "I doubt if you could find
one in all of Egypt, though I remember my Egyptian nurse used to say
there were cobras in the desert in summer. Anyhow, we'll be away
before summer."
"I suppose so," she agreed. "Yet--who knows what will become of any
of us? Madame Rechid Bey will be staying, of course. I don't know
whether to be sorry for her or not. The Bey's good-looking. He has
brown eyes, and is as white as you or I. Probably it's true that she's
been too seasick to leave her room for the last ten days, though Monny
and Mrs. O'Bri--I mean, Mrs. Jones--think she's shut up because men
stared, and because Mr. Sheridan talked to her. As for me, there's
always that question asking itself in my mind: 'What is going to
happen?' And I hear it twice as loud as before, in sight of Alexandria.
Rakoti, we Lagidae used to call the city." As she spoke, the long,
oriental eyes glanced at me sidewise, but my trustworthy Celtic
features showed a grave, intelligent interest in her statements.
"It must be," she went on, encouraged, "that I'm the reincarnation of
Cleopatra, otherwise how could I have the sensation of remembering
everything? There's no other way to account for it! And you know my
modern name, Clara, does begin with 'C.' Sayda must be right. She's

told lots of women the most extraordinary things. You really ought to
consult her, Lord Ernest, if you ever go to New York."
I did not say, as Neill Sheridan might, that a frothy course of Egyptian
historical novels would account for anything. I simply looked as
diplomatic training can teach any one to look.
Evidently it was the right look in the right place, for Cleopatra
continued more courageously, recalling the great Pharos of white
marble which used to be one of the world's wonders in her day; the
Museum, and the marvellous Library which took fire while Julius
Caesar burned the fleet, nearby in the harbour.
"Think of the philosophers who deserted the College of Heliopolis for
Alexandria!" she said. "Antony was more of a soldier than a student,
but even he grieved for the Library. You know he tried to console
Cleopatra by making her a present of two hundred thousand MSS. from
the library of the King of Pergamus. It was a generous thought--like
Antony!"
"Does the harbour looked changed?" I hastened to inquire.
"Not from a distance, though landing may be a shock: they tell me it's
all so Italian now. It was Greek in old days. I've read that