prayed a while, and nevertheless, on her return home, found that
her daughter had not yet made her appearance in the hall where they
usually breakfasted together.

Katuti preferred to be undisturbed during the early morning hours, and
therefore did not interfere with her daughter's disposition to sleep far
into the day in her carefully-darkened room.

When the widow went to the temple Nefert was accustomed to take a cup of
milk in bed, then she would let herself be dressed, and when her mother
returned, she would find her in the veranda or hall, which is so well
known to the reader.

To-day however Katuti had to breakfast alone; but when she had eaten a
few mouthfuls she prepared Nefert's breakfast--a white cake and a little
wine in a small silver beaker, carefully guarded from dust and insects by
a napkin thrown over it--and went into her daughter's room.

She was startled at finding it empty, but she was informed that Nefert
had gone earlier than was her wont to the temple, in her litter.

With a heavy sigh she returned to the veranda, and there received her
nephew Paaker, who had come to enquire after the health of his relatives,
followed by a slave, who carried two magnificent bunches of flowers, and
by the great dog which had formerly belonged to his father. One bouquet
he said had been cut for Nefert, and the other for her mother.

[Pictures on the monuments show that in ancient Egypt, as at the
present time, bouquets of flowers were bestowed as tokens of
friendly feeling.]

Katuti had taken quite a new interest in Paaker since she had heard of
his procuring the philter.

No other young man of the rank to which they belonged, would have allowed
himself to be so mastered by his passion for a woman as this Paaker was,
who went straight to his aim with stubborn determination, and shunned no
means that might lead to it. The pioneer, who had grown up under her
eyes, whose weaknesses she knew, and whom she was accustomed to look down
upon, suddenly appeared to her as a different man--almost a stranger--as
the deliverer of his friends, and the merciless antagonist of his
enemies.

These reflections had passed rapidly through her mind. Now her eyes
rested on the sturdy, strongly-knit figure of her nephew, and it struck
her that he bore no resemblance to his tall, handsome father. Often had
she admired her brother-in-law's slender hand, that nevertheless could so
effectually wield a sword, but that of h