A refreshing breeze met the two women as they stepped out into the air.
It was evening, and a reviving coolness had succeeded the heat of the
day. The buildings and houses already cast long shadows, and numberless
boats, with the visitors returning from the Necropolis, crowded the
stream that rolled its swollen flood majestically northwards.

Close below lay the verdant garden, which sent odors from the rose-beds
up to the princess's balcony. A famous artist had laid it out in the
time of Hatasu, and the picture which he had in his mind, when he sowed
the seeds and planted the young shoots, was now realized, many decades
after his death. He had thought of planning a carpet, on which the
palace should seem to stand. Tiny streams, in bends and curves, formed
the outline of the design, and the shapes they enclosed were filled with
plants of every size, form, and color; beautiful plats of fresh green
turf everywhere represented the groundwork of the pattern, and flower-
beds and clumps of shrubs stood out from them in harmonious mixtures of
colors, while the tall and rare trees, of which Hatasu's ships had
brought several from Arabia, gave dignity and impressiveness to the
whole.

Clear drops sparkled on leaf and flower and blade, for, only a short time
before, the garden by Bent-Anat's house had been freshly watered. The
Nile beyond surrounded an island, where flourished the well-kept sacred
grove of Anion.

The Necropolis on the farther side of the river was also well seen from
Bent-Anat's balcony. There stood in long perspective the rows of
sphinxes, which led from the landing-place of the festal barges to the
gigantic buildings of Amenophis III. with its colossi--the hugest in