there in
Thebes; no one knows where it came from, and yet it is my own. It
certainly is not a native of Egypt; and is not Pentaur as high above me
and his mother and his brothers, as this shrub is above the other
flowers? We are all small and bony, and he is tall and slim; our skin is
dark and his is rosy; our speech is hoarse, his as sweet as a song. I
believe he is a child of the Gods that the Immortals have laid in my
homely house. Who knows their decrees?' And then I often saw Pentaur at
the festivals, and asked myself which of the other priests of the temple
came near him in height and dignity? I took him for a God, and when I saw
him who saved my life overcome a whole mob with superhuman strength must
I not regard him as a superior Being? I look up to him as to one of them;
but I could never look in his eyes as I do in yours. It would not make my
blood flow faster, it would freeze it in my veins. How can I say what I
mean! my soul looks straight out, and it finds you; but to find him it
must look up to the heavens. You are a fresh rose-garland with which I
crown myself--he is a sacred persea-tree before which I bow."

Rameri listened to her in silence, and then said, "I am still young, and
have done nothing yet, but the time shall come in which you shall look up
to me too as to a tree, not perhaps a sacred tree, but as to a sycamore
under whose shade we love to rest. I am no longer gay; I will leave you
for I have a serious duty to fulfil. Pentaur is a complete man, and I
will be one too. But you shall be the rose-garland to grace me. Men who
can be compared to flowers disgust me!"

The prince rose, and offered Uarda his hand.

"You have a strong hand," said the girl. "You will be a noble man, and
work for good and great ends; only look, my fingers are quite red with
being held so tightly. But they too are not quite useless. They have
never done anything very hard certainly, but what they tend flourishes,
and grandmother says they are 'lucky.' Look at the lovely lilies and the
pomegrenate bush in that corner. Grandfather brought the earth here from
the Nile, Pentaur's father gave me the seeds, and each little plant that
ventured to show a green shoot through the soil I sheltered and nursed
and watered, though I had to fetch the water in my little pitcher, till
it was vigorous, and thanked me with flowers. Take this pomegranate
flower. It is the first my tree has borne; and it is very strange, when
the bud first