“Never mind, Professor, I’ll tell her,” Nefret said, rising.

“Tell who what?” Emerson demanded.

“Both questions are now irrelevant,” I said. “Really, Emerson, it is very rude of you to read the post when we have guests present. What is that letter that absorbs you so?”

Silently Emerson handed it to me.

“Oh, the note from Major Hamilton,” I said. “You are not going to lose your temper over it, I hope.”

“I am in no danger of losing my temper,” my husband retorted, transferring his piercing stare to me. “Can you think of any reason why I should?”

“Well, my dear, it is a rather brusque communication, and I know you were looking forward to seeing—”

“Bah,” said Emerson. “I don’t want to discuss it, Peabody . Where is—ah, there you are, Fatima . Good. I want my tea.”

Fatima and her young assistant were arranging the tea things when a lithe brindled form landed on the parapet, so suddenly that Cyrus started.

“Holy Jehoshaphat,” he ejaculated. “How did she get up here? Not by way of the stairs, or I’d have seen her coming.”

Seshat gave him a critical look and began washing her face. “She climbs like a lizard and flies through the air like a bird,” I said, laughing. “It is quite uncanny to see her soar from one balcony to another eight feet distant. Our cats have always been clever creatures, but we’ve never had one as agile as this.”

The appearance of Seshat anticipated by less than a minute the arrival of Ramses; either she had seen him coming, from some vantage point atop the house, or the uncanny instincts of a feline had warned her of his approach. Anna was with him.

Katherine’s daughter by her first, unhappy marriage, was now in her early twenties. She was, truth compels me to admit, a rather plain young woman. She did not at all resemble her mother, who was pleasantly rounded where Anna was not, and whose green eyes and gray-streaked dark hair gave her the look of a cynical tabby cat. Anna’s eyes were a faded brown, her cheeks thin and sallow; she scorned the use of cosmetics and preferred severe, tailored garments that did nothing to flatter her figure. She had never appeared interested in a member of the opposite sex, except for one extremely embarrassing period during which she had taken a fancy to Ramses. He had not taken a fancy to her, so it was a relief when she got over it.

It seemed to me that there was a certain coolness in her manner toward him that day. After greeting us she sat down on the settee next to Nefret and began questioning her about the hospital.

“I have decided I want to train for a nurse,” she explained.

“You are welcome to visit anytime,” Nefret said slowly. “But we do not have the facilities for such training. If you are serious—”

“I am. One must do whatever one can, mustn’t one?”

“You could receive better training in England ,” Nefret said. “I can give you several references.”

“There must be something I can do here!”

“Some of the ladies have formed committees,” I remarked. “They meet to drink tea and wind bandages.”

“That is better than doing nothing,” Anna declared. She directed a glance at Ramses, who appeared not to notice. Ah, I thought; so that is the trouble. Her brother, to whom she was devoted, was in France . I did hope she was not going to add to Ramses’s collection of feathers. Open contempt would be even more awkward than expressions of unwelcome affection.

We had been able to obtain a box for the opera season that year, since many of the former patrons had left the country—voluntarily, or after they had been expelled as enemy aliens. The performance that night was Aida, one of Emerson’s particular favorites, since the music is very loud and the renditions of Egyptian costume and scenery give him an opportunity to criticize them.

There was not room for all of us in a single vehicle, so Nefret went with us and Ramses accompanied the Vandergelts. I had, much against his will, persuaded Emerson to let Selim drive us that evening. The Reader can have no idea of how I looked forward to NOT being driven by Emerson. He was looking particularly handsome in white tie, which was de rigeur for box holders.

“I do wish Ramses would have the courtesy to tell us of his plans in advance,” I said, taking Emerson’s hat from him so he would not sit on it or let it fly out the window. “I was under the impression he was going with us until he turned up in ordinary evening kit instead of white tie.”

“What difference does it make?” Emerson demanded.

“Where is he going?”

“I did not have the impertinence to inquire, my dear. He is a grown man and is not obliged to give us an account of his activities.”

“Hmph,” I said. “Nefret, I don’t suppose you—”

“No,” said Nefret. “Perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier that I won’t be coming home with you.”

“Have you and Ramses something planned?”

“As I told you, I have no idea what his plans are, except that they do not include me.”

“Where are you—ouch!”

Emerson removed his elbow from my ribs and began talking very loudly about Wagner.

When the Vandergelts joined us in our box, Katherine said—in answer to my question—that they had left Ramses off at the Savoy . That was not one of his usual haunts; he must have planned to meet someone, or call for someone who was staying there.

Speculation could get me no further, so I abandoned the question for the time being.

The Opera House had been built by the Khedive Ismail as part of his modernization of Cairo in preparation for the visit of the Empress Eugйnie to open the Suez Canal in 1869. Rumor had it that Ismail was madly in love with the French empress; he had built for her not only an elaborate palace but a bridge by which she could reach it, and a road to Giza so that she could visit the pyramids in comfort. The Opera House was lavish with gilt and crimson velvet hangings and gold brocade. Ismail had commissioned Aida for the grand opening, but Verdi didn’t get around to finishing it for another two years, so the Khedive and the Empress had to settle for Rigoletto. Several boxes had been designed for the ladies of Ismail’s harem; screened off from the view of the audience, they were now reserved for Moslem ladies.

Katherine and I at once took out our opera glasses and looked to see who was there, with whom they had come, and what they were wearing. I do not apologize for this activity, which Emerson took pleasure in deriding. At worst it is harmless; at best, it is informative. The grandiose khedival box was occupied that evening by none other than General Maxwell. Since the declaration of war and the institution of martial law, he was the supreme power in Egypt , and his box was full of officers and officials who had come to pay their compliments (i.e., flatter the great man in the hope of gaining favor). I was not surprised to see Percy among them.

Even as we scrutinized we were being scrutinized. The General was not immune to this form of polite social intercouse; seeing my eyes fixed on his box, he acknowledged me with a gracious salutation. I nodded and smiled—full into the teeth of Percy, who had the audacity to pretend the greeting was meant for him. Displaying the said teeth in a complacent smile, he bowed. I cut him as ostentatiously as was possible, and was annoyed to see Anna respond with a wave of her hand. She had met him, I recollected, on an earlier occasion, while our relations with Percy were still relatively civil.

I interposed my person between her and Percy and scanned the audience below. Mrs. Fortescue was present, her escort that evening a staff officer with whom I was not acquainted. I asked Katherine to point out Major Hamilton.

“I don’t see him,” was the reply. “Why are you curious about the gentleman?”

“I told you about his niece’s little adventure on the pyramid,” I replied.

“Oh, yes. He hasn’t called on you to express his thanks?”