A short railway journey brought them to Cairo, and they found Mr Boleyn, Lady Haigh’s brother-in-law, waiting to meet them. They drove to his house in a luxurious carriage, with running footmen and a magnificent coachman, and Cecil left the talk to her two companions, and gave herself up to the enjoyment of the new pictures which met her eye on every side. It seemed to her that she would have liked that drive to go on for ever, and she was genuinely sorry, tired though she was, to reach the Boleyns’ house, although she ought to have felt more sympathy for Lady Haigh, who had not seen her sister for over twenty years. It seemed to Cecil, however, that both ladies would have acquiesced cheerfully in an even longer separation, for they could not forget the time when Lady Haigh had been a clever and irrepressible younger sister, and Mrs Boleyn had felt it her duty systematically to snub her. Life in the tropics had not suited the elder sister as well as it had the younger, and Mrs Boleyn was tall and gaunt and withered, with a tendency to exult over Lady Haigh, because she (Mrs Boleyn) had always said that Elma would soon be tired of her studies and her talk about Women’s Rights, and would marry like other people.
“But she didn’t say that at all, my dear,” Lady Haigh confided to Cecil when they were going to their rooms. “What she always said was that I should never get a husband because of my ridiculous notions.”
These ancient hostilities were renewed at dinner over the mention of Dr Egerton, the gentleman who was to escort the travellers for the rest of their way.
“Charlie has not arrived yet, I see,” Lady Haigh said pleasantly, as they sat down to the table.
“No, and he is not likely to arrive, so far as I can tell,” said Mrs Boleyn. “The temptations of Port Said have probably been too much for him. What good you expect a feather-pated rattlebrain like that to do at Baghdad, I don’t know! I don’t consider that you have done yourself at all a good turn, Elma, in inducing Dugald to get him appointed there.”
“Charlie is a good fellow, and I want him to have a chance at last,” said Lady Haigh, stoutly. “He has been unfortunate in his superiors hitherto.”
“I consider that his superiors have been extremely unfortunate in him,” said Mrs Boleyn, with crushing calmness.
“Well, we shall see,” said Lady Haigh, peaceably. “I hope to do what I can to smooth his path, and Dugald will make allowances which another man would not, perhaps.”
“I call it a very foolish and ill-advised thing to bring him to Baghdad,” persisted Mrs Boleyn; but as her sister did not accept the challenge, the matter dropped.
Mr Boleyn ate his dinner industriously without taking any notice of the little dispute, and Cecil felt that his plan was the wisest, after she had received two or three snubs from his wife in the course of the evening for injudiciously endeavouring to change the subject of the conversation when it seemed to be verging upon dangerous ground. Mrs Boleyn’s manner and appearance did not tend to recommend her opinions to the casual observer, and Cecil espoused Lady Haigh’s side of the case so warmly in her own mind that she really did not need the further assurance which her friend gave her when they went to their rooms that night, and she found herself summoned to Lady Haigh’s balcony for a talk.