My maid knew that before I did, and the first night she put me into one of my uncomfortable new gowns she stood off from me and said:
"His lordship must be a strange gentleman if he can resist you now."
I felt ashamed, yet pleased too, and went downstairs with a certain confidence.
The result was disappointing. My husband smiled rather condescendingly, and though Alma praised me beyond measure I saw that she was secretly laughing as she said:
"Our Margaret Mary is coming out, isn't she?"
Nevertheless I persevered. Without too much preparation for so perilous an enterprise, I threw myself into the gaieties of Cairo, attending polo matches, race-meetings, picnics at the Pyramids, dances at the different hotels, and on the island of Roda, where according to tradition, Pharaoh's daughter found Moses in the bulrushes.
I think I may say that I drew the eyes of other men upon me, particularly those of the colonel commanding on the Citadel, a fine type of Scotsman, who paid me the most worshipful attention. But I thought of nobody but my husband, being determined to make him forget Alma and fall in love with me.
It was a hopeless task, and I had some heart-breaking hours. One day, calling at a jeweller's to see a diamond necklace which I greatly coveted, I was told in confidence that my husband had been pricing it, but had had to give it up because it was a thousand francs too dear for him. I was foolish enough to pay the thousand francs myself, under a pledge of secrecy, and to tell the jeweller to send the necklace to my husband, feeling sure in my simplicity that it had been meant for me.
Next night I saw it on Alma's neck, and could have died of mortification and shame.
I daresay it was all very weak and very childish, but I really think my last attempt, if rather ridiculous, was also very pitiful.