s arrived for
her."

"Hail to Ani, the son of the Sun!" cried the dwarf kissing the Regent's
foot. "Have I no letter to carry to my mistress Nefert?"

"Greet her from me," replied the Regent. "Tell Katuti I will visit her
after the next meal. The king's charioteer has not written, yet I hear
that he is well. Go now, and be silent and discreet."

The dwarf quitted the room, and Ani went into an airy hall, in which
his luxurious meal was laid out, consisting of many dishes prepared with
special care. His appetite was gone, but he tasted of every dish, and
gave the steward, who attended on him, his opinion of each.

Meanwhile he thought of the king's letter, of Bent-Anat, and whether it
would be advisable to expose himself to a rejection on her part.

After the meal he gave himself up to his body-servant, who carefully
shaved, painted, dressed, and decorated him, and then held the mirror
before him.

He considered the reflection with anxious observation, and when he
seated himself in his litter to be borne to the house of his friend
Katuti, he said to himself that he still might claim to be called a
handsome man.

If he paid his court to Bent-Anat--if she listened to his suit--what
then?

He would refer it to Katuti, who always knew how to say a decisive word
when he, entangled in a hundred pros and cons, feared to venture on a
final step.

By her advice he had sought to wed the princess, as a fresh mark of
honor--as an addition to his revenues--as a pledge for his personal
safety. His heart had never been more or less attached to her than to
any other beautiful woman in Egypt. Now her proud and noble personality
stood before his inward eye, and he felt as if he must look up to it
as to a vision high out of his reach. It vexed him that he had followed
Katuti's advice, and he began to wish his suit had been repulsed.
Marriage with Bent-Anat seemed to him beset with difficulties. His mood
was that of a man who craves some brilliant position, though he knows
that its requirements are beyond his powers--that of an ambitious soul
to whom kingly honors are offered on condition that he will never remove
a heavy crown from his head. If indeed another plan should succeed,
if--and his eyes flashed eagerly--if fate set him on the seat of
Rameses, then the alliance with Bent-Anat would lose its terrors; there
would he be her absolute King and Lord and Master, and no one could
require him to account for what he might be to