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Page 11
She adored young things, and had an enormous family of godsons and
goddaughters, out of which crowd Ben Kelham and Damaris Hethencourt
were supreme favourites, and about whom she had been weaving plots when
she had written her letter of invitation to the Squire.
She smoked Three Castles, which she kept in a jewelled Louis XV
snuff-box, and had a perfect tartar of a maid, who simply worshipped
her.
Of a truth, a long description of a very old and very wise old woman,
of whom the great Queen had once remarked to her Consort:
"I wish I were not a queen, so that _I_ might curtsey to Olivia."
And in this wise old woman's jewel-covered hands Fate placed the
twisted threads of passion, youth and love, and a wiser selection she
could not have made.
A bronchitic cough had taken her to Cairo just as a sooted-up lung,
left behind by the pneumonia which had followed the hunting accident
had taken Ben Kelham to Heliopolis, and for recuperation of body or
mind there is nothing to equal an Egyptian winter, even in a
tourist-ridden centre.
Ben Kelham, Big Ben for short, on account of his six-feet-two, was heir
to Sir Andrew Kelham, Bart., whose estate joined the lands of Squire
Hethencourt, whom he looked upon as his greatest friend, and vice
versa. Educated at Harrow, Ben Kelham and Hugh Carden Ali had been
known on the Hill as David and Jonathan; so that the crimson, golden
and brown threads were more than uncommonly twisted.
Ben was heavy in build and slow in every way, but he was still more
sure than slow, and had never been known to give up when once he had
set his mind to the accomplishment of a task, and although he had stood
in absolute awe of beautiful Damaris since the day she had lengthened
her skirts, yet had he determined to make her his wife, even if it
meant following in Jacob's footsteps to the tune of waiting many years.
He had confided his determination to his godmother, who had immediately
taken the case in hand, and proceeded to throw bucketsful of cold water
upon his suggestion of being on the quay or doorstep to welcome the
girl to Egypt.
"My dear man," replied the tactful old lady as she rasped a match on
the sole of a crimson shoe and lit a fragrant Three Castles, "do
remember that everything will be new to the child; she will be one vast
ejaculation for at least a month. Let her get over that, let her
realise that you are close at hand, but not the least bit anxious to be
under her feet, and you'll see. Remember, she is very young, just like
a bit of dough which must be stuffed with the currants and raisins of
knowledge and then well-baked in the oven of experience before it can
be handed across Life's counter to anyone. Further, take care not to
blunder into any little trap she may set you out of pique."
"But, dearest, I always _do_ blunder when I'm out of the saddle."
"Well, even if you do, for goodness' sake keep your mouth shut. Be the
strong, silent man; women love 'em. We revel in being clubbed and
pulled into the cave by the hair; we may squeal a bit for the sake of
appearances, but we cook the breakfast nest morning without a murmur!
But just ask us to honour the cave by placing our foot over the
threshold, and as sure as anything, you'll find yourself making the
early cup of tea."
CHAPTER IV
"_Wide open and unguarded stand our gates,
Named by the four winds, North, South, East and West;
Portals that lead to an enchanted land. . ._"
T. B. ALDRICH.
Damaris duly arrived in Egypt, accompanied by Wellington--who had shown
no sign of incipient hydrophobia--and Jane Coop, her maid.
It were best to describe them both now, and so get it all over.
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