I watched the receding boat in a sort of trance until the matter-of-fact
voice of Gazen broke the spell.

"Prettiest sight I ever saw in my life," said he to Otāré. "Quite a
living picture."

"I am glad you like it," responded Otāré evidently gratified.

"But what is the good of it?" enquired the professor.

"The good of it?" rejoined the Venusian; "it is beautiful, and gives us
pleasure."

"Oh, of course; but what is the meaning--the inner meaning of it?"

"Ah! the meaning of it," said Otāré, a new light breaking on him, "I
will explain. You saw the flower which the priestess cut and carried in
her hand--?"

"A kind of water-lily, is it not?"

"Yes, it is the Sacred Lily. The plant is rooted in the mire at the
bottom of the pond, and grows up through the water to the surface. The
stem rises in a serpentine curve, and terminates in a flower-bud, which
opens with a sigh of delight when the sun strikes upon it, and fills the
air with its perfume."

"A sigh, did you say?"

"Yes, a low sweet sound resembling a sigh. The flower is white--'living