my friend! He will be here tonight! On the
Tiber there is a house, a royal property, which he has pledged
to me; and to be its mistress is to be--"

A sound of some one walking swiftly along the street below
interrupted the speech, and she leaned over the parapet to see.
Then she drew back, and cried, with hands clasped above her head,
"Now blessed be Isis! 'Tis he--Ben-Hur himself! That he should
appear while I had such thought of him! There are no gods if it
be not a good omen. Put your arms about me, Esther--and a kiss!"

The Jewess looked up. Upon each cheek there was a glow; her eyes
sparkled with a light more nearly of anger than ever her nature
emitted before. Her gentleness had been too roughly overridden.
It was not enough for her to be forbidden more than fugitive dreams
of the man she loved; a boastful rival must tell her in confidence
of her better success, and of the brilliant promises which were
its rewards. Of her, the servant of a servant, there had been no
hint of remembrance; this other could show his letter, leaving her
to imagine all it breathed. So she said,

"Dost thou love him so much, then, or Rome so much better?"

The Egyptian drew back a step; then she bent her haughty head
quite near her questioner.

"What is he to thee, daughter of Simonides?"

Esther, all thrilling, began, "He is my--"

A thought blasting as lightning stayed the words: she paled,
trembled, recovered, and answered,

"He is my father's friend."

Her tongue had refused to admit her servile condition.

Iras laughed more lightly than before.

"Not more than that?" she said. "Ah, by the lover-gods of Egypt,
thou mayst keep thy kisses--keep them. Thou hast taught me but
now that there are others vastly more estimable waiting me here
in Judea; and"--she turned away, looking back over her shoulder--"I
will go get them. Peace to thee."

Esther saw her disappear down the steps, when, putting her hands
over her face, she burst into tears so they ran scalding through
her fingers--tears of shame and choking passion. And, to deepen
the paroxysm to her even temper so strange, up with a new meaning
of withering force rose her father's words--"Thy love might not
have been vainly given had I kept fast hold of all I had, as I
might have done."

And all the stars were out, burning low above the city and the
dark wall of mountains about it, before she recovered enough to
go back to the summer-house, and in silence take her accu