The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [151]
I intended to stay and have a comfortable private talk with Katherine. At first Emerson would not hear of it. He finally consented after I agreed to wait there until someone came for me.
“So you are still in danger,” Katherine said soberly. “Tell me what has been happening.”
Cyrus had gone with the others. We were alone in Katherine’s charming parlor, which her doting husband had completely redecorated for her. It combined the finest of Middle Eastern ornaments—rugs, brasswork, carved screens—with the most comfortable of modern furniture. I always felt hospitably welcomed in that room, and I settled down in an overstuffed chair and told her all about it.
Her plump, pretty face lengthened as I spoke. “I wish there were something I could do to help, Amelia. It is a desperate situation and I see no way out of it.”
“Something will no doubt occur to me,” I assured her. “We have been in situations as desperate, Katherine. I didn’t expect you to offer a solution, only the comfort of friendly interest, which you have done. Oh, and Evelyn asked me to pass on her fondest regards and her regrets that they were unable to say good-bye in person.”
“We heard they had left,” Katherine said. “Was there a reason for their sudden departure, or should I not ask?”
So I told her all about that, too. Her response was limited to a shake of the head and a murmured “What a pity. I am so sorry.”
I realized I had hoped she would say more. That surprised me, since I am not in the habit of relying on others for advice.
“It will all work out for the best,” I said firmly. “ ‘Hearts do not break; they sting and ache’—uh—”
“ ‘ . . . for old love’s sake, but do not die.’ ” Katherine dimpled. “The Mikado, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course. You know your Gilbert and Sullivan even better than I. Now tell me how your plans for the school are progressing.”
She accepted the change of subject and we had a very useful discussion. She could not decide whether it would be more sensible to construct a new building or refurbish an old one, and she was still in doubt as to the best location for the school. Luxor seemed the obvious choice, but she hoped to attract girls from the west bank villages and, as she pointed out, there were already two schools in Luxor.
“The Mission School and what other?” I asked.
“The one Fatima attends. She told you about it.”
“Oh, yes. It isn’t an actual school, though, is it?”
“Not by our definitions, perhaps, but it has an excellent location, and Sayyida Amin holds several classes each day. She admitted she has not the money to do more.”
It was a pleasure to get my mind off matters that were temporarily insoluble and concentrate on a subject that could be solved, with time and money and dedication—all of which Katherine possessed. When the little clock on the mantel chimed I was startled to realize how late it had become.
“I must get back,” I declared, rising.
“You mustn’t go, Amelia. Emerson told you to wait until someone came for you.”
“I refuse to sit waiting like a child whose papa is busy elsewhere. It is broad daylight and I will be well-mounted.”
Katherine followed me downstairs, expostulating all the while; but when we reached the courtyard we found Ramses sitting cross-legged on the ground, chatting with the gatekeeper and one of the gardeners. The latter gave Katherine a guilty look and hastened away.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” I demanded.
Ramses uncoiled himself and rose in a single motion. “I haven’t been here long. Father is still in the Valley, but he said he would leave shortly and that we are to go straight home. Good afternoon, Mrs. Vandergelt.”
“Good afternoon,” said Katherine, with one of her catlike smiles. “Wouldn’t you like a cup of tea?”
“No, thank you,