Not happiness, but maybe a little fun.

But Egypt, of all places! You’ll get a disease. You’ll be kidnapped by white slavers !

Lillie and Douglas did just fine there. Maybe I’ll be a missionary. Why, I could teach at the mission school in Jebail.

Well! Mumma didn’t know about that.

Neither did I, truth be told. I had never fully shared Lillian’s joyous, confident faith, although I did believe in God. Indeed, as the weeks passed and my departure date neared, I knew I ought to ask for divine guidance, but my courage failed me. What if God answered? What if He agreed with Mumma?

The thought of renouncing this trip made me go cold and dark inside, but when I looked at my new luggage and contemplated packing it with all the lovely flattering things Mildred had helped me pick out, oh my! I felt like Moses’ staff—like a dead stick miraculously bursting with new possibilities.

I felt … happy.

And afraid. And guilty, but excited as well.

Yes. More than anything: excited.

On the Monday before I sailed, I withdrew a great deal of money from my bank account. I had prepared answers to the questions I expected, but the teller had no clue that I was doing something wildly self-indulgent, nor would he have cared had he known. My next stop was the post office, where I gave instructions to hold deliveries, and felt compelled to explain, “I’m going away for a few months. To Egypt, actually.”

“Oh, how nice,” the postmaster said. “Next!”

Then it was on to the law office of Mr. Reichardt to make arrangements for my absence. I expected a lecture on thrift and the husbandry of my funds. “Do you a world of good,” he said instead. “Send me a postcard, Miss Shanklin.”

In fact, no one seemed shocked or even very interested in my plans. That, in itself, was strangely thrilling. Nobody came to see me and Rosie off either, and that was rather sad.