merit certainly appears less to me now that I see your wife, for he who
owns the fairest may easily forego any taste for the fair."

Nefert blushed.

"Your generosity," she answered, "does me more than justice at your
daughter's expense, and love moved my husband to the same injustice, but
your beautiful daughter must forgive you and me also."

Praxilla went towards her and expressed her thanks; then she offered her
the costly coronet, the golden clasps and strings of rare pearls which
her women carried; her father begged Mena to accept a coat of mail and a
shield of fine silver work. The strangers were then led into the tent,
and were there welcomed and entertained with all honor, and offered bread
and wine. While Mena pledged her father, Praxilla related to Nefert,
with the help of the interpreter, what hours of terror she had lived
through after she had been taken prisoner by the Egyptians, and was
brought into the camp with the other spoils of war; how an older
commander had asserted his claim to her, how Mena had given her his hand,
had led her to his tent, and had treated her like his own daughter. Her
voice shook with emotion, and even the interpreter was moved as she
concluded her story with these words: "How grateful I am to him, you will
fully understand when I tell you that the man who was to have been my
husband fell wounded before my eyes while defending our camp; but he has
recovered, and now only awaits my return for our wedding."

"May the Gods only grant it!" cried the king, "for Praxilla is the last
child of my house. The murderous war robbed me of my four fair sons
before they had taken wives, my son-in-law was slain by the Egyptians at
the taking of our camp, and his wife and new-born son fell into their