an, for she had
caused it to be built after her own plans; but her table was the same as
ever, and upon it stood the broad silver mirror, which she never allowed
to be left behind when she travelled.

Her magnificent beauty had neither changed nor faded in three years.
Such strength as hers was not to be broken, nor worn out, by the mere
petty annoyances of palace life. She could sustain the constant little
warfare she waged against the king, without even so much as looking
careworn and pale for a moment, though the king himself often looked
dark and weary, and his eyes were heavy with sleeplessness for the
trouble she gave him. Yet he could new determine to rid himself of her,
even when he began to understand the profound badness of her character.
She exercised a certain fascination over him, as a man grows fond of
some beautiful, wicked beast he has half-tamed, though it turn and show
its teeth at him sometimes, and be altogether more of a care than a
pastime. She was so fair and evil that he could not hurt her; it would
have seemed a crime to destroy anything so wondrously made. Moreover,
she could amuse him and make many an hour pass pleasantly when she was
so disposed.

She was fully attired for the banquet that was to take place late in
the evening, but her women were still about her, and she looked at
herself critically in the mirror, and would have changed the pinning of
her tiara, so that her fair hair should fall forward upon one side,
instead of backwards over her shoulder. She tried the effect of the
change upon her face, and peered into the mirror beneath the bright
light of the tall lamps; when, on a sudden, as she looked, she met the
reflection of two angry dark eyes, and she knew that Nehushta was behind
her.

She rose to her feet, turning quickly, and the sweep of her long robe
overthrew the light carved chair upon the marble floor. She faced
Nehushta with a cold smile that betrayed surprise at being thus
interrupted in her toilet rather than any dread of the interview. Her
delicate eyebrows arched themselves in something of scorn, but her voice
came low and sweet as ever.

"It is rarely indeed that the queen Nehushta deigns to visit her
servant," she said. "Had she sent warning of her coming, she would have
been more fittingly received."

Nehushta stood still before her. She hated that cool, still voice that
choked her like a tightening bow-string about her neck.

"We have small need of court f