f she had lived long enough, and that her day was over.
Hitherto her gentle nature, her intellect, which yearned to expand,
gather new riches, and exchange what it had gained with others, had
possessed much to offer to the Queen. She had not only been Cleopatra's
confidante, but necessary to her to discuss questions far in advance
of the demands of the times, which occupied her restless mind. Now
the Queen's attention was wholly absorbed by events--hard, cruel
facts--which she must resist or turn to her own advantage. Her life had
become a conflict, and Charmian felt that she was by no means combative.
The hard, supple, keenly polished intellect of Iras now asserted its
value, and the elderly woman told herself that she was in danger of
being held in less regard than her younger companion. To resign her
office would have given her peace of mind, but she repelled the thought.
For the very reason that these days were so full of misery and perhaps
drawing nearer to the end, she must remain, first for the sake of the
Queen, but also to watch over Barine.

Now she longed to go to Cleopatra. Her mere presence, she knew, would
do her sore heart good. The silvery laugh of a child reached her ears
through the open gate of the garden which she was rapidly approaching.
Little six-year-old Alexander ran towards her with open arms, hugged
her closely, pressed his curly head against her, and gazed into her face
with his large clear eyes.

Charmian's heart swelled; and as she raised the child in her arms and
kissed him, she thought of the sad fate impending, and the composure
maintained with so much difficulty gave way; tears streamed from her
eyes and, sobbing violently, she pressed the boy closer to her breast.

The prince, accustomed to bright faces and tender caresses, broke away
from her in terror to run back to his brother and sisters. But he had
a kind little heart, and, knowing that no one weeps and sobs unless
in pain, Alexander pitied Charmian, whom he loved, and hurried to her
again.

What he meant to show her had pleased his mother, too, and dried the
tears in her eyes. So he took Charmian by the hand and drew her along,
saying that he wanted her to see the prettiest thing. She willingly
allowed herself to be led over the paths, strewn with red sand, of the
little garden which Antony had had laid out for his children in the
magnificent style which pleased his love of splendour, and filled with
rare and beautiful things