Part 63 (1/2)

There were many fair and attractive women in the room, of widely varied types--Americans, Austrians and English: that was how they took their place in the scale of beauty in Margaret's opinion. Amongst them all there was perhaps no one who was more commented upon and admired than herself. Sitting by herself, for one thing, provoked curiosity, while for another her claim to good looks had the high quality of distinguished individuality; in an a.s.sembly of well-dressed women of the world, Margaret, like Hada.s.sah, could never be overlooked.

She had been out of the world of fas.h.i.+on and frivolity for so long that the gay scene interested her and made it easy for her to temporarily put aside her troubles. She had lived in the Valley, studying the lives and customs of lost civilizations until they had become a part of her own life. Now she found it amusing to be back again amongst the men and women of to-day, people who were, as she reminded herself, in their own little way creating history. They were as typical of the world's evolution in the twentieth century as the Pharaohs in their tombs and the painted figures of men and women and dancing girls on the temple and tomb-walls were typical of the world's evolution three thousand years ago.

After dinner she drank her coffee in the fine lounge of the hotel, under tall palm-trees, while a Hungarian band played music which stirred her blood and pulses. It made her feel very much alone and a little desolate. She had been happier before the music began; it made calls upon her heart, it gave re-birth to a thousand wants. Her sense of loneliness increased as she watched more than one pair of lovers gradually drift off and settle themselves down somewhere out of sight.

She heard one radiant couple making arrangements for going to see the Pyramids by moonlight.

She had never seen the Pyramids or the Sphinx. Perhaps when she was staying with the Iretons, they would take her to see them. She had certainly no desire to make the excursion alone.

As she thought of the Pyramids, and Mike's a.s.sociation with them, a wave of hate and rage spread over Margaret like a blush. She wondered if any of the curious eyes of the tourists had noticed it; she had been conscious of being freely criticized all the evening. She looked about her quickly. The place had become almost devoid of young people; only some elderly men and women were left, reclining in big chairs. With the absence of youth, Margaret's spirits sank very low; it was not bracing to her strained nerves and lonely condition to sit with the elderly invalids and watch them pa.s.sing the time away in a semi-dozing condition until it was the recognized hour for going to bed.

To be true to Michael she must not allow herself to grow despondent.

Hada.s.sah Ireton had gone through far greater trials and suffering than she was facing, and what had been her reward? Margaret visualized her married life, her expression of happiness as she greeted her, her pride in the small son who was toddling at her side. It was a condition of life well worth suffering and waiting for.

When the clock struck ten, Margaret rose from her retired seat. She felt justified in going early to bed after such a long and trying day.

There was nothing better to do. As she entered the lift which was to take her up to her floor, she suddenly found herself face to face with Millicent Mervill.

She was so wholly unprepared for the meeting that she never afterwards was able to understand why she did not lose her presence of mind. It is on such occasions that the metal we are made of is put to the test.

The two women faced each other in silence. The next moment the lift went swiftly up, and as it went, Margaret had but one clear thought--that she would stop at the first floor and get out; she could walk up the remaining flight of stairs. The next second she realized that that would be a foolish and weak thing to do. It was her duty to speak to Millicent and learn the cause of the scandal from her own lips. She owed it to Michael. She must do the one thing which she could to clear his name of the dishonour of which Freddy accused him.

Millicent was getting out at the first landing. The lift shot up so quickly that the silence between them had been of the briefest.

Margaret left the lift at the same moment and again the two women stood facing one another, as the gate closed behind them and the lift began its downward journey.

”Good evening,” Millicent said gaily. ”I never expected to have the pleasure of seeing you in Cairo.” A smile which might have hidden any meaning lit up her eyes and showed the perfection of her mouth and teeth. But even at that critical moment, Margaret was conscious that her beauty had lost something of its radiance. Had her youth, which had seemed eternal, vanished at last? Had it left her as rats leave a sinking s.h.i.+p? Had the G.o.ds recalled what had already tarried too long?

”Good-evening,” was all that Margaret managed to say. Her heart was floundering in a sea of anger; her mind was struggling for wise words, words which would drag the truth from the pretty lips, playing over still prettier teeth. She was determined not to let the opportunity slip.

But Millicent was too quick. She left Margaret no chance to take the lead in the conversation; she seized and kept it to the end. Margaret should know just as much as she, Millicent, wished her to know, and no more. She meant to enjoy herself; the devout Margaret was going to receive some nasty knocks.

”How is our mystic?” she asked lightly.

The word ”our” instantly deprived Meg of her resolution to speak tactfully and even hypocritically, if it was necessary. Millicent did not wait for her tardy answer. Meg's expression had flamed the devil's fire of mischief in her callous heart.

”Have you heard from him since I left him?”

Here Margaret's pride helped her. She threw up her chin; a trick with her when her fighting spirit was roused.

”I really don't know. I forget how long ago it is since you saw him.”

”I left him almost within sight of his promised land, of his King Solomon's mine. Has he found it? Were the jewels very wonderful?”

The woman's audacity amazed Margaret, while it infuriated her, but thanks to the blood of her ancestors, a fight always braced her nerves and quickened her wits; it was tenderness which brought tears. She was not going to allow the brazen little beast to know or see what her words meant to her; she was not going to tell her of Michael's disappointment. If she had betrayed him and robbed him of Akhnaton's treasure, she was not going to let her batten on the suffering she had caused, so she said:

”My brother has just heard that information of the discovery has come to the Minister of Public Works. The Government has sent out some men to make the preliminary excavations, so I suppose it is all right.”

Millicent's eyes gleamed. Something like sympathy pleasure beautified them; for a moment her desire to wound the girl who had robbed her of the lover she desired was forgotten; it was lost in surprise.

”Then Mike was right? He has really discovered his precious treasure, his legacy of Akhnaton? I'm so glad!” She paused. ”I never really believed he would, did you? It seemed to me mere moons.h.i.+ne, a delightful excuse for a desert romance.”

Margaret was still more amazed. What an actress the woman was! If she had not known her true character, she would have believed that she was innocent of the base treachery of which she was guilty.