maiden had laid on the altar of the Goddess Hathor,
which he had served since the previous day, and he gave them to the
sick girl, who took them with a blush, and held them between her clasped
hands.

"The great Goddess whom I serve sends you these," said Pentaur, "and
they will bring you healing. Continue to resemble them. You are pure and
fair like them, and your course henceforth may be like theirs. As the
sun gives life to the grey horizon, so you bring joy to this dark but.
Preserve your innocence, and wherever you go you will bring love, as
flowers spring in every spot that is trodden by the golden foot of
Hathor.

[Hathor is frequently called "the golden," particularly at Dendera
She has much in common with the "golden Aphrodite."]

May her blessing rest upon you!"

He had spoken the last words half to the old couple and half to Uarda,
and was already turning to depart when, behind a heap of dried reeds
that lay close to the awning over the girl, the bitter cry of a child
was heard, and a little boy came forward who held, as high as he could
reach, a little cake, of which the dog, who seemed to know him well, had
snatched half.

"How do you come here, Scherau?" the paraschites asked the weeping boy;
the unfortunate child that Hekt was bringing up as a dwarf.

"I wanted," sobbed the little one, "to bring the cake to Uarda. She is
ill--I had so much--"

"Poor child," said the paraschites, stroking the boy's hair; "there-give
it to Uarda."

Scherau went up to the sick girl, knelt down by her, and whispered with
streaming eyes:

"Take it! It is good, and very sweet, and if I get another cake, and
Hekt will let me out, I will bring it to you.

"Thank you, good little Scherau," said Uarda, kissing the child. Then
she turned to Pentaur and said:

"For weeks he has had nothing but papyrus-pith, and lotus-bread, and now
he brings me the cake which grandmother gave old Hekt yesterday."

The child blushed all over, and stammered:

"It is only half--but I did not touch it. Your dog bit out this piece,
and this."

He touched the honey with the tip of his finger, and put it to his lips.
"I was a long time behind the reeds there, for I did not like to come
out because of the strangers there." He pointed to Nebsecht and Pentaur.
"But now I must go home," he cried.

The child was going, but Pentaur stopped him, seized him, lifted him up
in his arms and kissed him; saying, as he turned to Nebsecht:

"Th