n, her uncle
Archibius's sister, who had hitherto been a beloved associate and
maternal friend. But what had happened? Iras fancied that her pleasant
features wore a repellent expression which she had never seen before.
Was this also the singer's fault? And what was the cause?

The older woman's manner decided the question whether she should still
bestow upon her returned relative the love of a grateful niece. No, she
would no longer put any restraint upon herself. Charmian should feel
that she (Iras) considered any favour shown to her foe an insult. To
work against her secretly was not in her nature. She had courage to show
an enemy her aversion, and she did not fear Charmian enough to pursue a
different course. She knew that the artist Leonax, Barine's father, had
been Charmian's lover; but this did not justify her favouring the woman
who had robbed her niece of the heart of the man whom she--as Charmian
knew--had loved from childhood.

Charmian had just had a long conversation with her brother, and had
also learned in the palace that Barine had been summoned to the Queen's
presence in the middle of the night; so, firmly persuaded that evil
was intended to the young woman who had already passed through so many
agitating scenes of joy and sorrow, she entered the waiting-room, and
her pleasant though no longer youthful face, framed in smooth, grey
hair, was greeted by Barine as the shipwrecked mariner hails the sight
of land.

All the emotions which had darkened and embittered her soul were
soothed. She hastened towards her friend's sister, as a frightened child
seeks its mother, and Charmian perceived what was stirring in her heart.

It would not do, under existing circumstances, to kiss her in the
palace, but she drew Leonax's daughter towards her to show Iras that
she was ready to extend a protecting hand over the persecuted woman. But
Barine gazed at her with pleading glances, beseeching aid, whispering
amid her tears: "Help me, Charmian. She has tortured, insulted,
humiliated me with looks and words--so cruelly, so spitefully! Help me;
I can bear no more."

Charmian shook her kind head and urged her in a whisper to calm herself.
She had robbed Iras of her lover; she should remember that. Cost what
it might, she must not shed another tear. The Queen was gracious. She,
Charmian, would aid her. Everything would depend on showing herself to
Cleopatra as she was, not as slander represented her. She must answer
her