March 21st, 1925

My dear Betty,

The word for this week appears to be Temptation. We are swimming in the possibilities of our own vices and falling prey to our own devils, each, I suspect, in our own ways.

For me it has been gossip as you will no doubt have gathered from my last letter.

I finally tracked down Violet over breakfast and we talked long about what was happening between her and Louis. I fear my hopes may not have come off quite as I intended as she was quite stiff.

She cares deeply for Louis. I can see it in the myriad ways that she is attuned to every mention of him. I'm not sure she understood my warning that she might be required to let him down softly. Indeed, I think the depth of her affections is shown in how she was perturbed by such an idea. I was merely trying to inform her that he was doing some thinking on their lives and that it might be best to be prepared if she was not similarly engaged emotionally in their couple hood, but I'm afraid it didn't sound quite so sensible as it came out of my mouth.

She is also thoroughly enjoying the good Count. I don't believe she had really thought beyond what might occur in Cairo, much less in the future beyond it, before I brought the whole thing up. I almost regret doing so now, as I have barely been able to speak to her before now, and if she is worried that I disapprove of their relationship, then I will no doubt see even less of her now. She is happily enjoying "the only uncomplicated part of my life right now" which was enough for me to suddenly realise what we were discussing in the breakfast room and nearly choked on my delightful Eggs Benedict. You wouldn't think it, but The Shepheard's Hotel has some surprisingly excellent Hollandaise sauce.

I've been at a bit of a loss lately, and did not have a companion to accompany me to the Egyptian Museum, so I spent the afternoon and evening reading. Lord Covington was kind enough to lend me the translation he has made of the scrolls Vanheuvelen had worked on, which has not only the translation, but some notes he thought himself. It is fascinating in light of the rest of what I have been reading.

In spite of my exotic surroundings, outside of the gossip I'm afraid my life has become quite staid. I spend so much time reading alone now that I am grateful there is no society to speak of for fear of what might be said. I sit here now, well past midnight, a little maudlin with a book of magical spells in my lap and a stiff brandy in hand.

Do write to me soon and tell me of something fascinating.

Forever yours truly,

Rose