Tomb of the Golden Bird Read Online Free Page A

of the revolutionary groups before the war, and although his service to Britain since had won him a pardon, he was still devoted to the cause of independence. Some of his former associates held a grudge against him for what they considered his betrayal of their cause; others wanted nothing more than to involve him in their plots and counterplots. His mother was plotting too. Ramses began to get an idea of what she was up to when she announced she meant to give "one of my popular little dinner parties." It had been a habit of hers to meet with their archaeological colleagues soon after their arrival in Egypt, to catch up on the news, as she put it. The war had interrupted this pleasant custom because so many of their friends were on the front lines or engaged in work for the War Office. When she announced her intentions Emerson grumbled but gave in without a struggle. Howard Carter was to be one of the guests. When they gathered in the elegant dining salon at Shepheard's it was something of a shock to see so many new faces. The Quibells were friends from the old days, as was Carter, but many of the guests were of the new generation. Among them was Suzanne Malraux. She had come alone, and when he saw her standing in the doorway Ramses went to welcome her. She was a wispy-looking little thing, with large protuberant blue eyes and silvery fair hair so fine, the slightest breeze lifted it around her small head. She made Ramses think of an astonished dandelion. He presented her to his wife and parents. Nefret's greeting was warm; she must have taken Suzanne's hesitation for shyness, and she always went out of her way to encourage career-minded young women. She was only too well aware of the difficulties they faced, after the trouble she herself had had in obtaining her medical degree and in starting a woman's hospital in Cairo. His mother was pleasant but less effusive. After subjecting Suzanne to a searching stare she drew the girl aside and began to talk about her studies with Petrie. She managed to have private conversations with some of the other younger guests as well, and Ramses began to wonder what she was up to. His father was too busy with old friends to notice. Emerson objected to his wife's social engagements as a matter of form, but he generally had a roaring good time once they were underway. All in all, it was a successful affair, with champagne flowing freely and tongues wagging just as freely. Next day Ramses managed to get his mother alone. She had taken up embroidery again, and was stabbing at a grubby scrap of cloth when he joined her in the sitting room. Putting it aside with evident relief, she invited him to take a chair. "A pleasant evening, was it not?" she inquired. Yes. "Your father was impressed by Miss Malraux. I thought she stood up to his quizzing admirably." "She's not the shrinking violet I had believed her to be," Ramses admitted. "Coming alone took some courage." "It was a declaration of her desire to be judged for herself, without the support of a man. Nefret liked her too." "Yes. Mother, you are scheming again. What is it this time?" "There is a very nice house to let in Roda. It has a large walled garden, servants' quarters, even a nursery." "I see." He only wondered why he hadn't foreseen it. Watching him, she picked up the embroidery again and waited. "Have you taken the place?" he inquired. "Goodness no, I would never venture to do that without Nefret's and your approval." "Mother—" "My dear boy." She leaned forward and fixed him with those steely gray eyes. "It is time the children were in school. Time for Nefret to carry on her work at the hospital. Time for you to have ... er ... time to concentrate on your interest in philology. Several of the young people we met last night are admirably qualified, including Miss Malraux. They can never replace you and Nefret, but they deserve a chance, and you two deserve the opportunity to pursue your own careers." "Have you broached this scheme to