The Mummy Case Read Free

of Egyptology for him."
    "Foolish man," I said with a smile. "You are off the mark. My guess is that Evelyn is expecting again."
    "Now that is ridiculous, Peabody. I have no strong objection to my brother and his wife continuing to produce offspring, but to call it wonderful news—"
    "My sentiments are in accord with yours, Emerson. But neither of us wrote this telegram. You know Evelyn's feelings about children."
    "True." Emerson reflected, pensively, on the peculiar opinions of Evelyn. Then his face became radiant. "Peabody! Do you realize what this means? If Evelyn has recovered from her melancholia, she will no longer require Ramses to keep her company. We can bring our boy home!"
    "I had arrived at the same conclusion."
    Emerson leaped up. I rose to meet him; he caught me in his arms and spun me around, laughing exultantly. "How I have missed the sound of his voice, the patter of his little feet! Reading to him from my History of Ancient Egypt, admiring the   bones he digs up from the rose garden— I have not complained, Peabody—you know I never complain—but I have been lonely for Ramses. This year we will take him with us. Won't it be wonderful, Peabody—we three, working together in Egypt?"
    "Kiss, me, Emerson," I said faintly.
    Our neighbors are not interesting people. We have little to do with them. Emerson has antagonized most of the gentlemen, who consider him a radical of the most pernicious sort, and I have not cultivated their ladies. They talk of nothing but their children, their husbands' success, and the faults of their servants. One of the favorite sub-topics under the last head is the rapidity with which the servants' hall becomes acquainted with the private affairs of the master and mistress. As Lady Bassington once declared, in my presence, "They are frightful gossips, you know. I suppose they have nothing better to do. By the by, my dear, have you heard the latest about Miss Harris and the groom?"
    Our servants unquestionably knew more about our affairs than I would have liked, but I attributed this to Emerson's habit of shouting those affairs aloud, without regard for who might be listening. One of the footmen may have overheard his cries of rapture at the prospect of being reunited with his child, or perhaps Wilkins had allowed himself to theorize. In any event, the word spread quickly. When I went up to change for dinner, Rose knew all about it.
    Rose is the housemaid, but since I do not employ a personal servant, she acts in that capacity when I require assistance with my toilette. I had not called her that evening; yet I found her in my room, ostensibly mending a skirt I could not recall havingripped. After asking what she should pack for the journey to Chalfont, she said, "And while you are away, ma'am, shall I see that Master Ramses' room is got in order?"
    "His room is in order," I replied. "I see no reason to do anything more, since it won't remain in order for five minutes after he occupies it."
    "Then Master Ramses will be coming home, ma'am?" Rose asked with a smile.
    Rose's fondness for Ramses is absolutely unaccountable. I cannot calculate how many cubic feet of mud she has scraped off carpets and walls and furniture as a result of his activities, and mud is the least disgusting of the effluvia Ramses trails in his wake. I replied, rather shortly, that the day and hour of Ramses' return was as yet mere speculation, and that if any action on her part was necessary, she would be informed as soon as I knew myself.
    Ramses had no nanny. We had naturally employed one when we took the house; she left after a week, and her successors passed in and out of the place so rapidly, Emerson complained that he never got to know what they looked like. (He had once taken the Honorable Miss Worth, whose religious beliefs demanded a puritanical simplicity of dress, for the new nanny, and before this assumption could be corrected, he had insulted the lady to such a degree that she never called on me