That was my reward. Or should I call it a punishment? Anyhow, it made it easier for the insignificant person in question to unburden his conscience about the hieroglyphic letter. I stammered it all out, on the way back, apropos of the rubbish-heap which had been Tentyra. I let it remind me of Fustât and our digging expedition. I had meant to follow Mrs. East's advice and propose to Miss Gilder, I explained, but Monny had not found my buried love-letter. What had become of it I—er —had never been told. All I knew was that it hadn't come into Miss Gilder's hands; and I should never have as much courage again.
"Oh!" Cleopatra exclaimed, with a curious light in her eyes, more like relief than disappointment. "You really do want to marry my niece? You delayed so, that I wondered. I wasn't sure, sometimes, if it were Monny or—but I am on your side, Lord Ernest. It isn't too late yet for any of us, perhaps. Trust in me. I'm going to help you."
I could have bitten my tongue out, though I had blundered with the best intentions. "Mrs. East," I protested almost ferociously, "you mustn't do anything. I said before I began, that I was going to tell you a secret."
"I won't betray your confidence. But I will help. I want to. It would be a good thing for Monny to accept you, Lord Ernest, a very good thing in more ways than one. Mrs. Jones wants it too, or did. I promise you, I'll be discreet."
With that, we arrived in sight of the boat. Once more, necklaces and scarabs and baskets were thrust under our noses. Anthony had returned from his mysterious whisperings in cafés or mosques in the new town, and was waiting for us. Cleopatra called him, with a note of gayety in her voice, to help her off "the elephant." He came. I felt she was going to hint to him that I was in love with Monny—hint to Brigit also.
Virtue may be its own reward, but it makes you very lonely!
I hadn't another easy moment for dreaming the Nile-dream. And we all woke out of it when, with the pink dawn of a certain morning, we saw a vast temple, repeated column for column, in the clear river, as in a mirror of glass.
We were at Luxor; and somewhere not far off, Mabella Hânem was praying for release.