Now she longed to go to Cleopatra. Her mere presence, she knew, would do
her sore heart good. The silvery laugh of a child reached her ears
through the open gate of the garden which she was rapidly approaching.
Little six-year-old Alexander ran towards her with open arms, hugged her
closely, pressed his curly head against her, and gazed into her face with
his large clear eyes.

Charmian's heart swelled; and as she raised the child in her arms and
kissed him, she thought of the sad fate impending, and the composure
maintained with so much difficulty gave way; tears streamed from her eyes
and, sobbing violently, she pressed the boy closer to her breast.

The prince, accustomed to bright faces and tender caresses, broke away
from her in terror to run back to his brother and sisters. But he had a
kind little heart, and, knowing that no one weeps and sobs unless in
pain, Alexander pitied Charmian, whom he loved, and hurried to her again.

What he meant to show her had pleased his mother, too, and dried the
tears in her eyes. So he took Charmian by the hand and drew her along,
saying that he wanted her to see the prettiest thing. She willingly
allowed herself to be led over the paths, strewn with red sand, of the
little garden which Antony had had laid out for his children in the
magnificent style which pleased his love of splendour, and filled with
rare and beautiful things.

There was a pond with tiny gold and silver fish, where the rare lotus
flowers with pink blossoms arose from amid their smooth green leaves, and
another where dwarf ducks of every colour, which seemed as if they had
been created for children, swam to and fro. A bit of the sea which