He Shall Thunder in the Sky by Elizabeth Peters

Miss Nordstrom would consider it improper to bare any portion of the lower anatomy in the presence of a man.
         “Is that wise?” I inquired, indicating the shod foot. “A tight boot will be painful if her foot swells. Perhaps you would like Miss Forth to have a look at it. She is a physician.”
         “Not necessary,” said Miss Nordstrom, looking at Nefret with shocked surprise.
         Nefret smiled. She was accustomed to having people react to that announcement with disbelief or disapproval. “I would be happy to.”
         When the offer was again rejected she did not persist. A cup of tea removed the governess’s ill humor. She began to apologize for inconveniencing us.
         “Think nothing of it,” I said. “You are newcomers to Cairo, I believe? How do you like it?”
         “Not at all,” said Miss Nordstrom bluntly. “I have never seen so many beggars and so much dirt. The guides are impertinent. And none of the wretches speak English! I was against our coming, but Major Hamilton was determined to have his niece with him, and duty brought him here. Are you acquainted with him?”
         “I have heard his name,” Emerson said. “With the Corps of Engineers, is he?”
         “He was called in to consult on the defenses of the Canal and reports directly to General Maxwell,” Miss Nordstrom corrected. She was obviously proud of her employer; she went on to tell us in tedious detail about his past triumphs and present importance.
         Miss Molly was unimpressed. More — she was bored. She brightened, however, when the only missing member of the family sauntered in, tail swinging. Seshat went straight to Ramses, who held out his hand.
         “So you finally woke up?” he inquired. “Good of you to join us.”
         “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Miss Molly exclaimed. “Is it yours, Ramses?”
         “Molly!” Miss Nordstrom exclaimed. “You are being familiar!”
         “That’s all right,” Ramses said, with a reassuring smile at the girl. “This is Seshat, Molly. She, not it, if you don’t mind.”
         Seshat condescended to be introduced and have her back stroked — once. She then returned to Ramses. Seeing Molly’s face fall, Nefret said, “Are you fond of animals? Perhaps you would like to visit my menagerie.”
         Miss Nordstrom declined the invitation, and since I found the woman very tedious, I went off with Nefret and Miss Molly. The poor little thing perked up as soon as we were out of the room.
         “Miss Nordstrom is rather strict,” I said sympathetically.
         “Oh, Nordie means well. It’s just that she won’t let me do anything interesting. This is the best time I’ve had since we got here.”
         “What do you usually do for entertainment?” Nefret asked.
         Molly gave a little skip. “Do my lessons and take drives around the city while Nordie reads out of Baedeker. Sometimes we have people to tea. Children, I mean. I’m not out yet, so I’m not allowed to associate with young ladies. And the children are so young!”
         Nefret laughed. “How old are you?”
         “Seventeen.” She looked from Nefret to me and back to Nefret, and realized that little fabrication was not going to be believed. “Well . . . I will be sixteen in a few months.”
         “Fifteen?” Nefret inquired; her brows were arched and a dimple trembled at the corner of her mouth. “Are you sure you don’t mean fourteen — or thirteen — or —”
         “Almost thirteen.” Molly admitted defeat with a scowl at Nefret.
         She forgot her grievance when Nefret showed her round the “menagerie.” Narmer, the unattractive yellow mongrel whom Nefret persisted in calling a watchdog, greeted us with his customary howls and bounds, and had to be shut in the shed to keep him from jumping at everyone. Miss Molly did not care much for him (neither did