ble phenomena of the universe were fantastic as the
veriest heathen myths. The self-evolved feelings and impulses of a
black-eyed nymph like Gnulemah were not likely to be orthodox. She was
probably no better than a worshipper of vain delusions and idols of
the imagination.

Her attire--a style of costume such as might have been the fashion in
the days of Cheops or Tuthmosis--showed a carrying out of the Doctor's
whim,--a matching of the external to the internal conditions of the
age he aimed to reproduce. The project seemed, on the whole, to have
been well conceived and consistently prosecuted. It was seldom that
Uncle Hiero achieved so harmonious a piece of work; but the idea
showed greater moral obliquity than Balder would have looked for in
the old gentleman.

But there was no deep sincerity in the young man's strictures. There
before him stood the woman Gnulemah,--purple, white, and gold; a
vivid, breathing, warm-hued life; a soul and body rich with Oriental
splendor. There she stood, her hair flowing dark and silky from
beneath her twisted turban, her eyes,--black melted loadstones; the
broad Egyptian pendants gleaming and glowing from temple to shoulder.
The golden serpent seemed to writhe on her bosom, informed from its
wearer with a subtile vitality. Through all dominated a grand repose,
like the calm of nature, which storms may prove but not disthrone!

There she stood,--enchanted princess, witch, goddess,--woman at all
events, palpable and undeniable. She must be accepted for what she
was, civilized or uncivilized, heathen or Christian. She was a
perfected achievement,--vain to argue how she might have been made
better. Who says that an evening cloud, gorgeous in purple and
heavenly gold, were more usefully employed fertilizing a garden-patch?

Balder Helwyse, moreover, was not a simple utilitarian; he was almost
ready to make a religion of beauty. If he blamed his uncle for
shutting up this superb creature within herself, he failed not to
admire the result of the imprisonment. He knew he was beholding as
rare a spectacle as ever man's eyes were blessed withal; nor was he
slow to perceive the psychological interest of the situation. To a
student of mankind, if to no one else, Gnulemah was beyond estimation
precious. But had Balder forgotten what fruit his tree of philosophy
had already yielded him?

At all events, he forbore to press his question as to the whereabouts
of Uncle Hiero, who would turn up s