esert sands--watchmen by the wall--in
the dark streets a woman with bleeding back and feet seeking and
calling, "_I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my
beloved_--"

"_Hearken, O daughter, and consider, incline thine ear_"--Ruth's voice
swelled up on a full note: "_forget also thine own people and thy
father's house._"

"_So shall the King have pleasure in thy beauty: for he is thy lord, and
worship thou him_."

"Excuse me--'for he is thy Lord God,'" corrected Mr. Hichens. . . .
"We are taking the Prayer Book's version."

"I changed to the Bible version on purpose," Ruth confessed;
"and 'lord' ought to have a small 'l'. The Prayer Book makes nonsense
of it. They are bringing in the bride, the princess, to her lord.
_She is all glorious within, her clothing is of wrought gold. She shall
be brought unto the King in raiment of needlework: the virgins that be
her fellows shall bear her company_--"

"The Hebrew," said Mr. Hichens, blinking over his own text which he had
hastily consulted, "would seem to bear you out, or at least to leave the
question open. But, after all, it matters little, since, as the chapter
heading explains in the Authorized Version, the supposed bride is the
Church, and the bridegroom, therefore, necessarily Our Lord."

"Do you think that, or anything like that, was in the mind of the man
who wrote it?" asked Ruth, rebellious. "The title says, 'To the Chief
Musician upon Shoshannim'--whatever that may mean."

"It means that it was to be sung to a tune called Shoshannim or Lilies--
doubtless a well-known one."

"It has a beautiful name, then; and he calls it too 'Maschil, A song of
Loves.'"

"Historically no doubt you are right," agreed Mr. Hichens. "The song is
undoubtedly later than David, and was written as a Prothalamion for a
royal bride. It is, as you say, exceedingly beautiful; but perhaps we
had best confine our attention to its allegorical side. You probably do
not guess who the bride was?"

"No," Ruth admitted. "Who was she?"

"It is generally admitted, I believe, to have been written as a bridal
hymn for Queen Jezebel."

"O--oh!" Ruth bit her lip, but had to laugh in spite of herself.

Chapter IV.

VASHTI.

The first bad suggestion almost certainly came from Mr. Silk.
Two or three of the company afterwards put their heads together and,
comparing recollections, agreed that either Silk or Manley had started
it. Beyond the alternative they co