full control of her father's company. And that's why she was in the boardroom, with her 
handsome fiance, Alex Savarell, Viscount Summer-field, right now.
  
  Randolph could not bear to see her crying like this. Dreadful to be pressing her with 
papers to sign. She looked all the more fragile in her black mourning; her face drawn and 
shimmering as if she were feverish; her eyes full of that odd light that he had first 
seen when she told him that her father was dead.
  
  The other board members sat in sullen silence, eyes downcast. Alex held her arm gently. 
He looked faintly baffled, as if he really didn't understand death; it was just that he 
didn't want her to suffer. Simple soul. Out of place among these merchants and men of 
business; the porcelain aristocrat with his heiress.
  
  Why must we go through with this? Why are we not alone with our grief?
  
  Yet Randolph did it because he had to do it, though never had the whole thing seemed so 
meaningless. Never had his love for his only son been so painfully tried.
  
  "I simply cannot make decisions yet, Uncle Randolph,"  she said to him politely.
  
  "Of course not, my dear,"  he answered." No one expects you to. If you'll only sign 
this draft for emergency funds and leave the rest to us."
  
  "I want to go over everything, to take a hand in things,"  she said." That's clearly 
what Father intended. This whole situation with the warehouses in India, I don't 
understand how it could have come to such a crisis."  She paused, unwilling to be caught 
up in things, perhaps utterly incapable of it, and the tears flowed silently again.
  
  "Leave it to me, Julie,"  he said wearily." I've been handling crises in India for 
years."
  
  He pushed the documents towards her. Sign, please, sign. Do not ask for explanations 
now. Do not add humiliation to this pain.
  
  For that is what was so surprising, that he missed his brother so much. We don't know 
what we feel for those we love until they're taken. All night he'd lain awake remembering 
things ... the Oxford days, their first trips to Egypt-Randolph, Lawrence and Elliott 
Savarell. Those nights in Cairo. He had awakened early and gone through old photographs, 
and papers. Such marvelously vivid memories.
  
  And now, without spirit or will, he tried to cheat Lawrence's daughter. He tried to 
cover for ten years of lies and deceit. Lawrence had built Stratford Shipping because he 
really didn't care about money. Oh, the risks that Lawrence used to take. And what had 
Randolph done since he took over? Hold the reins and steal. To his utter amazement Julie 
lifted the pen and signed her name quickly on all the various papers, without so much as 
reading them. Well, he was safe from her inevitable questions for a little while.
  
  I'm sorry, Lawrence. It was like a silent prayer. Perhaps if you knew the whole story.
  
  "In a few days, Uncle Randolph, I want to sit down and go over everything with you. I 
mink that's what Father wanted. But I'm so tired. It's really time to go home."
  
  "Yes, let me take you home now,"  Alex said immediately. He helped her to her feet.
  
  Dear good Alex. Why couldn't my son have had a mere particle of that gentleness? The 
whole world could have been his. Quickly Randolph went to open the double doors. To his 
amazement he found the men from the British Museum waiting. An annoyance. He would have 
spirited her out another way, if he had known. He did not like the unctuous Mr. Hancock, 
who behaved as if everything Lawrence had discovered belonged to the museum and the world.
  
  "Miss Stratford,"  the man said now as he approached Julie." Everything has been 
approved. The first showing of the mummy will take place in your home, just as your 
father would have wished. We will of course catalogue everything, and remove the 
collection to the museum as soon as you wish it. I thought you would want to have my 
personal assurance. . , ."
  
  "Of course,"  Julie answered wearily. This interested her no more than the board 
meeting, obviously." I'm grateful to you, Mr. Hancock. You know what this discovery meant 
to my father."  There was a pause again as if she would begin crying. And why not?" I 
only wish I'd been with him in Egypt."
  
  "Darling, he died where he'd been most happy,"  Alex offered lamely." And among the 
things he loved."
  
  Pretty words. Lawrence had been cheated. He'd had his momentous find for only a few 
short hours. Even Randolph understood as much.
  
  Hancock took Julie's arm. They moved towards the door together.
  
  "Of course it's impossible to authenticate the remains until we make a thorough 
examination. The coins, the bust, these are quite unprecedented discoveries. ..."
  
  "We'll make no extravagant claims, Mr. Hancock. I only want a small reception for 
Father's oldest friends."
  
  She offered her hand now, in effect dismissing him. She managed such things so 
decisively, so like her father. So like the Earl of Rutherford when you thought about it. 
Hers had always been an aristocratic manner. And if only the marriage were to take 
place...
  
  "Good-bye, Uncle Randolph."
  
  He bent to kiss her cheek.
  
  "I love you, darling,"  he whispered. It surprised him. And so did the smile that 
spread across her face. Did she hear what he had meant to tell her? I am so sorry, sorry 
for everything, my dear.
  
  Alone at last on the marble staircase. All of them gone but Alex, and in her heart of 
hearts, she wished that he were gone too.