f your life with the fragrance of this human love that
blossoms in the dust after the lapse of centuries. No, you were not
silly, and Artemidorus is not jealous of your new friend."

"Are you sure?" She still smiled as she asked the question, but her
glance was soft--almost tender--and there was a note of whimsical
anxiety in her voice.

"Quite sure. I give you my confident assurance."

She laughed gaily. "Then," said she, "I am satisfied, for I am sure you
know. But here is a mighty telepathist who can read the thoughts even of
a mummy. A most formidable companion. But tell me how you know."

"I know, because it is he who gave you to me to be my friend. Don't you
remember?"

"Yes, I remember," she answered, softly. "It was when you were so
sympathetic with my foolish whim that I felt we were really friends."

"And I, when you confided your pretty fancy to me, thanked you for the
gift of your friendship, and treasured it, and do still treasure it,
above everything on earth."

She looked at me quickly with a sort of nervousness in her manner, and
cast down her eyes. Then, after a few moments' almost embarrassed
silence, as if to bring our talk back to a less emotional plane, she
said:

"Do you notice the curious way in which this memorial divides itself up
into two distinct parts?"

"How do you mean?" I asked, a little disconcerted by the sudden descent.

"I mean that there is a part of it that is purely decorative and a part
that is expressive or emotional. You notice that the general design and
scheme of decoration, although really Greek in feeling, follows rigidly
the Egyptian conventions. But the portrait is entirely in the Greek
manner, and when they came to that pathetic farewell, it had to be
spoken in their own tongue, written in their own familiar characters."

"Yes. I have noticed that and admired the taste with which they have
kept the inscription so inconspicuous as not to clash with the
decoration. An obtrusive inscription in Greek characters would have
spoiled the consistency of the whole scheme."

"Yes, it would." She assented absently as if she were thinking of
something else, and once more gazed thoughtfully at the mummy. I watched
her with deep content: noted the lovely contour of her cheek, the soft
masses of hair that strayed away so gracefully from her brow, and
thought her the most wonderful creature that had ever trod the earth.
Suddenly she looked at me reflectively.

"I wonder," s