“Tell me everything that happened,” the mother said sorrowfully. “Did you meet Bahia’s mother?”
“No, I only met the man. Before I opened my mouth, he lashed out at me with a storm of reproofs.”
Hussein repeated the man’s words, omitting his biting accusations but adding all the paraphernalia of pathos to stir their sorrow and sympathy. Except for Nefisa, all were moved, sullen, and ashamed. “You shouldn’t have gone to see them tonight,” Nefisa said. “Anyhow, the responsibility for the first mistake lies with the man who accepted a schoolboy as his daughter’s fiancée. Then all his guile in bringing the engagement about. As I see it, Hassanein isn’t to blame. As I said, he was only an inexperienced schoolboy, ignorant of the ways of the world.”
Determined to finish what he had to say, Hussein spoke calmly to his sister. “Please speak kindly of the girl. She might be your other brother’s fiancée.”
Astounded, they all stared at him. Nefisa gave a quick sigh and Hassanein inquired, “What are you talking about?”
Exerting all his willpower to control his confusion, Hussein said, “She may be my fiancée.”
“Yours!”
“Yes, mine.”
“Nonsense!” Nefisa cried.
“But it’s the truth, pure and simple.”
“Did you really ask for her hand?” his mother asked, studying his face.
“Yes, I did,” the young man said, lowering his eyes. “I told him it would please me greatly if he would approve my request for her hand.”
“Did you do this to repair the damage?” Hassanein asked with worry in his voice.
Hussein hesitated briefly. “Partly so. But I have a deep appreciation for the girl, and since marriage is inevitable, I believe she is the right wife for me.”
“Who told you that marriage is inevitable?” Nefisa asked sarcastically.
“What did Farid Effendi say?” the mother interrupted.
Answering on Hussein’s behalf, Nefisa said, “He said, ‘You’re most welcome.’ ”
Indifferent to her, Hussein replied, “He thanked me but said he was sorry he couldn’t approach the girl at this moment. So he asked me to give him time.”
“Did you mean to do this when you left us?” Hassanein asked.
“No,” Hussein said.
“I’m afraid,” the other young man said, “that you may discover later on that you don’t really want to marry her.”
“May this come true!” Nefisa said with a sigh.
“Nefisa!” her mother shouted at her angrily.
Speaking to his brother, Hussein said, “By temperament, I’m inclined to the stable life.”
“I wish happiness to you both,” Hassanein said with relief. After a pause, he added in a low voice, “I have my hopes, too; that is, to marry the daughter of Ahmad Bey Yousri. Brother, do you think that’s foolish?”
“Why not?” Hussein said with a smile. “You’re her equal.”
Somewhat excited, Nefisa said with a laugh, “May God help us. We wanted to get back one of you two, but most probably we shall lose you both. What is happening to us is the mischief of an evil eye.”
“May God bless you,” the mother murmured calmly. “I’m confident my sons will not forget me.”
“Then you’re quite ignorant of marriage and its secret distractions,” Nefisa said to her mother. “I know all about it.”
“Mother knows more about it than you do,” Hassanein said, laughing.
Silence fell upon them. Glancing surreptitiously at his brother, Hassanein suspected that his engagement had been planned beforehand.
EIGHTY-TWO
Perhaps it was wise to wait. Yet Hassanein wondered angrily what use there was in waiting. Suppose his bird flew away and he missed the chance to catch it? For nearly a month, his mind dwelled on this matter. All his family, especially Hussein, advised him to wait until he could amass a small fortune before asking for the girl’s hand. Hassanein thought they were probably right. But afraid that the girl might not wait for him that long, he was persuaded to renounce this wiser course of action. Eminent as Ahmad Bey Yousri was, the fact that old ties had always linked him to the Kamel family encouraged Hassanein to hope the Bey would be patient and tolerant with him and lend a sympathetic ear. Hassanein realized that if he missed this wonderful opportunity he might wait a long time before another appeared. Why not ask for the girl’s hand, and then ask the Bey to give him time to complete his preparations for marriage? This was quite possible, but even if impossible, his rejection should not stop him from persisting. He was too bold to let anything stand in his way, for whatever reason. Moreover, he found the so-called virtue of patience intolerable. Come what may, now and without fear he would pursue his objective.
Approaching Ahmad Bey Yousri’s villa in Taher Street, the young man was absorbed in these thoughts. Having decided upon a definite course of action, Hassanein proceeded to carry it out with no second thoughts. This was the life for which his soul yearned. Now that Hassan had disappeared, Nefisa had become a respectable lady, and the past had almost vanished, he felt secure. He hoped that he and his family would lead a happy, decent, and comfortable life. He was especially careful about his appearance, for in him, youthfulness was combined with manly virility. When he reached the villa, he was shown into the sitting room, where he sat thinking with an anxious, beating heart. Curious, isn’t it, that I, who have nothing but what’s left of my salary, should propose to a girl who owns such a villa as this! Besides, there’s the useless, fictitious story of the entailed Wafd property case which I told the Bey about. Why Mother isn’t actually in possession of the property is another question. Had we been property owners, our past and present would have been entirely different! Come what may, I won’t retreat. Anyhow, I won’t be beheaded for this proposal. At best I’ve everything to win and at worst almost nothing to lose. In the latter event, the worst that can happen is that the Bey will say to me, “I’m sorry, my son,” and bidding him farewell, I’ll answer, “Goodbye, Your Excellency.” I’m sure I’m her equal. What does she want from me that I don’t have? Money? She already possesses a fabulous amount of money! How foolish it would be of her to reject my proposal! Here in this place I saw her for the first time riding her bicycle. How beautiful her leg, how lovely her thigh! Poor Nefisa.
I wonder where Hassan is now! I hope he’s escaped to some other place and disappeared from my life for good. The memory of him disturbs and haunts me. When will I be reprieved from all this awful past?
I won’t retreat. Right over there, she was about to fall off her bicycle.
I hear the Bey’s approaching footsteps!
Hassanein sprang to his feet respectfully when he saw the Bey drawing near. He shook his hands with reverence.
“Welcome to our respected officer,” the Bey said. “How are you and your family?”
Keeping his purpose firmly in mind, the young man replied, “Thank you, Your Excellency.”
Laughing, the Bey inquired, “Is your brother still in Tanta?”
Welcoming any conversation that would allow more time for preparation, Hassanein said with ostensible interest, “Yes, sir.”
They sat down. “It isn’t possible to get him transferred during this vacation,” the Bey said. “But I’ve been given a definite promise that he’ll be transferred during the next vacation.”
Although Hassanein already knew about it, he expressed his gratitude. “This is another favor, after all your previous kindness.”
As silence fell upon them, the young man realized that he was approaching an extremely critical moment in his life and that there was no room for wavering or retreat. He summoned up his courage, and said in some confusion, “Your Excellency, I’ve come to you about a personal matter.”