mber of archways fair Luna must pass
until, at midnight, she would shine down through the one just above
her.

Already had begun the weird chants, interspersed with solos of
exquisite harmonies of stringed and wind instruments--responses and
echoes.

Incense burned and perfumes arose and blended in an indescribable
union with melody and motion, while as the fragrant vapors from the
burning censers wafted and wreathed about the colonnades and
porticoes, Spirit forms added their presence to the sublime scene,
bringing with them flowers, aromas and harmonies from the divine
abodes of the very Gods themselves.

Oblivious of the passage of time, while intently absorbed in every
minutest detail of the wonders passing about her, Sarthia was almost
becoming drowsy, when suddenly, the Moon looked in upon her, fast
nearing the final archway, and yet she was undecided. She turned and
gazed upon her companion, mentally asking, "Can I become Nu-nah?"

Nu-nah was very beautiful and a Princess. But Sarthia was also
beautiful and the blood in her veins was royal, though of a
different branch from the present ruling House.

Nu-nah was cold and haughty, accustomed to rule and be obeyed.

Sarthia was humble externally, a Vestal of the Temple, but in her
mind and soul as imperious as a Queen of the realm of Heaven.
Passionately devoted to the pursuit of Wisdom and the possibilities
of obtaining knowledge, even Magic was open to her, in the Temple
Service. Could she leave her Temple home, her opportunities for
growth, her idolized Priestess, to go into the environments of
Nu-nah?

The thought seemed to her worse than death itself. "Every one has to
die," she mused, "and I may as well die one time as another."

Then another thought came into her mind--Hermo. He had begun to
teach her the mysteries of his science of Astrology. Hermo, for whom
she had a pure sisterly regard and who was so proud of her swift
proficiency in his favorite study. And then she recalled the vision
of the previous night when Hermo had shown to her clairvoyant eye
his agitation at her impending doom.

"But if I become Nu-nah and Nu-nah becomes Sarthia, Hermo will never
know the difference and thus be spared the pain of loving his young
sister. And furthermore, Nu-nah has a lover to whom she is betrothed
and would have married, ere this, but for her lingering malady, the
superb young Prince Rathunor, whom I have never seen."

Ah! here was indeed a most dir