Free The Mummy Case by Elizabeth Peters Page A

dear Emerson. I confess that season of sailing was utter bliss; but I would not exchange it for the pleasure of our work together."
    This admission resulted in a longer interruption of the buttoning, but I finally persuaded Emerson to complete the task. Turning, I demanded his comment.
    "I like that dress, Peabody. Crimson becomes you. It remindsme of the gown you wore the night you proposed marriage to me."
    "You will have your little joke, Emerson." 1 inspected myself in the mirror. "Not too bright a shade for a matron and the mother of a growing boy? No? Well, I accept your judgment as always, my dear Emerson."
    I too had fond memories of the gown to which he referred. I had worn it on the night he proposed to me, and I took care always to have in my wardrobe a frock of similar cut and color. One abomination of the past was gone, however—the bustle. I could have wished that some fashion arbiter would also do away with corsets. Mine were never as tight as fashion decreed, for 1 had grave suspicions about the effect of tight lacing on the internal organs. I did not wear them at all under my working clothes, but some concession was necessary with evening dress in order to attain the smooth flowing line then in style.
    I clasped about my neck a gold chain bearing a scarab of Thutmose III—my husband's gift—and, my toilette completed, went to assist Emerson with his. John and Ramses returned in time to contribute their assistance, which was not unwelcome, for Emerson carried on in his usual fashion, losing collar buttons, studs and links because of the vehemence with which he attacked these accessories. Ramses had become particularly good at locating collar buttons; he was small enough to crawl under beds and other furniture.
    Emerson looked so handsome in evening dress that the effort was all worthwhile. His heightened color and the brilliant blue of his eyes, flaming with rage, only added to his splendid appearance. Unlike most of the men of my acquaintance, he remained clean-shaven. I preferred him without hirsute adornment, but I suspected it was only another example of Emersonian perversity. If beards had gone out of style, Emerson would have grown one.
    "You are very handsome, Papa," said Ramses admiringly. "But I would not like a suit like dat. It is too hard to keep clean."
    Emerson brushed absently at the cat hairs adhering to hissleeve, and I sent Ramses off for another bath. It was apparent that no one ever dusted under the bed. We ordered supper to be sent up for John and Ramses and went downstairs to meet our guests.
    Dinner was not wholly a success. But then dinner never was when Emerson was in a surly mood, and he was almost always in a surly mood when he was forced to dine out in public and in formal attire. I have seen him behave worse. He had a grudging respect for Mr. Wilberforce, but the Reverend Sayce brought out all his baser instincts. There could not have been a greater contrast between two men—Emerson, tall, broad-shouldered and hearty, Sayce small and spare, with sunken eyes behind his steel-rimmed spectacles. He wore clerical garb even when on an excavation, and looked like a magnified beetle in his long-tailed black coat and reversed collar.
    Wilberforce, whom the Arabs called "Father of a Beard," was a more phlegmatic character, and Emerson had given up teasing him, since he only responded by smiling and stroking his magnificent white beard. They greeted us with their customary affability and expressed regret that they would not have the pleasure of meeting Ramses that evening.
    "As usual you are au courant with all the news," I said in a spritely manner. "We only arrived yesterday, yet you are aware that our son is with us this season."
    "The community of scholars and Egyptologists is small," said Wilberforce with a smile. "It is only natural we should take an interest in one another's activities."
    "I don't see why," said Emerson, with the air of a man who has determined to be disagreeable.