It Happened in Egypt

by C. N. Williamson; A. M. Williamson

"No doubt everything about you, Miss Guest, must make an appeal to his romantic side," I cut in, while she was forced to pause for breath.

"I hope I do appeal to him," she said, meekly, "I never thought to be so happy." This was a direct appeal to me; and it hit the mark. I didn't care a rap about Willis Bailey, or his sketches or the wooden statues with crystal eyes which he was going to make the fashion. If Miss Guest chose to hook her shining fish with a false fly it wasn't my business. It was hers and his, and perhaps Monny's, for Monny had backed Rachel up in creating a wrong impression, as if they two had been playing together, like children, to trick the grown-ups. But I had to find out what had started the ball rolling, because it looked as if that ball had come out of the pocket of Bedr.

"I'm glad you're happy," I said, "and my hope is that you'll remain so. I wish you so well, that perhaps you'll give me the right to ask a few questions. You see, I'm one of your oldest friends in Egypt, after Miss Gilder and her aunt—and Mrs. Jones. You met Miss Gilder and Mrs. East travelling in France, they've told me—"

"Yes, in a dining-car. We were put at the same table, and got talking. I just loved Monny at first sight, and she's been heavenly to me. What fun we've had! I never had any fun before. I hardly knew the meaning of the word."

"I suppose it must have amused you and Miss Gilder," I planted my arrow at last, though not remorselessly, "this quaint idea that's got round, about your having changed places."

Rachel's face crimsoned. "Oh, Lord Ernest!" she sighed in an explosive whisper, with a glance round to see if any one were near. But we were alone with the beginnings of a sunset, that flushed the dun hills as unripe peaches are flushed on a garden wall. "I've promised Monny not to say a word and spoil her fun, as long as the trip lasts. She's finding out, you see, which people are really attracted to her, for herself. She says it's a wonderful experience—and it's given her such a rest from men: the silly ones, you know. It isn't my fault. I'd tell in a minute if she'd let me."

"Was it she who began the game?" I dared to inquire. "Or was it Bedr? Now, this is a question I really have a right to ask. I'll tell you why afterward, if you don't know already from Monny."

"No, I don't think Monny's said anything to make me understand that," Rachel answered, stammering a little, and trying pathetically not to look anxious. "But I'll answer you, of course. There's nothing to hide from you—now—that I can see. It was Bedr who began. He was the most intelligent, extraordinary person! I don't believe any one fully realized it, except me. But from that first night at Alexandria, he seemed to feel that I saw something of value behind his poor face. He was very sensitive. And he attached himself to me in the most beautiful, faithful way. Really and truly, if there hadn't come that trouble about the hasheesh place (which wasn't his fault, because Monny wanted to go, and when she wants things she wants them very much) I believe I could have made a Christian of him. He would have been a wonderful convert! We talked more about religion than anything else, but he used to like to chat about America, because he'd been there, and hoped to go again. That was the way the joke about Monny and me started. He did ask me not to speak of it, but it can't matter now. He told me when he was in New York, with a family who took him from Egypt, one day the great Mr. Gilder's daughter was pointed out to him in the street. She was with her father, in an automobile, but there was a block in the traffic: a policeman was keeping it back, so he saw her distinctly for several minutes, and he was interested, because his employers told him how important the Gilders were, and how Mr. Gilder used to have his daughter guarded every minute for fear she might be kidnapped for ransom, as several rich people's children had been. Monny couldn't have been more than fourteen then, as it's seven years ago; and Bedr said that the little girl he saw in the automobile was exactly like me—hardly at all like what Monny is now. He wanted me to tell him, for a reason which he vowed and swore was very important, whether I wasn't really Miss Gilder, and she Miss Guest."

"Well?"

"Well, I thought the idea so funny, so thoroughly quaint, you know, and like something in a book, that just for fun I answered that I couldn't tell him anything until I'd consulted my friend. Monny nearly went wild about it. She said she'd come to Egypt to have adventures and she was going to have them, no matter whether 'school kept or not'. That's just a little slang expression, people use at home, sometimes. I daresay you've heard her say much the same thing. She said this idea of Bedr's was too good to miss, and we'd get bushels of fun out of it. So we have—in different ways. And she's been lovely, about giving me dresses and things. When she and I talked the matter over, she understood why Bedr should have thought she was more like me, at the age of fourteen, than like her present self. She'd had typhoid fever just before the time she must have been pointed out to him, and it had left her thin as a rail, and as pale as a ghost. Her hair was short, too, and some of the colour had been burnt out of it by the fever. Now, you know, she has a brilliant complexion, and her face is much rounder than mine, as well as more pink and white. Compared to her, I am sallow, I'm afraid, and lanky: and when she and I stand together, her hair looks bright gold, and mine light brown in comparison.