On the hall table, waiting for her, lay a letter from her father, and his little daughter eagerly pounced upon it, and ran with it to her bedroom. Mother was much better already, the letter said, and, after a great deal of other news, Rachel came upon a sentence which interested her more than her father could have imagined, when he wrote it.
“I have just seen the Pyramids! One of these days you and I will go to Egypt and look at them again together. But you must learn something about them first, or you won’t be half so excited about them as I am.”
Rachel laughed gleefully. “Dad hasn’t seen King Cheops, anyhow,” she thought. “And he’d be certain to think I dreamt it if I told him all about Sheshà and the slaves. No one would believe me—so I shan’t say anything about this lovely adventure.”
She ran down to lunch, happy and excited by her secret.
“Well, how did you enjoy the British Museum?” enquired Aunt Hester, when she had heard all the news contained in the letter from Egypt.
“Oh, I loved it!” exclaimed Rachel, and two little dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth as she tried to repress a smile. “When can I go again?”
Miss Moore looked a little surprised, for she remembered no particular enthusiasm on Rachel’s part during the morning.
“A most instructive place,” she observed, turning to Aunt Hester. “I’m sure Rachel will learn a great deal there.”
And again Rachel tried to keep back a smile.
