beside the throne of Solomon, her own throne, which he had caused to be brought from Sheba in time for this occasion.  This incident, I think, affected her more agreeably than anything else that happened.  Great were the festivities.  Honors and dignities were bestowed on every hand, and I might have come in for some substantial benefit had it not been that I committed a great blunder.  I had fallen in love with the beautiful Liridi, and as the queen seemed so gracious and kind to everybody, I made bold to go to her and ask that she would allow me to marry her charming handmaiden.  But, to my surprise, this request angered the queen.  She told me that such an old man as myself ought to be ashamed to take a young girl to wife; that she was opposed to such marriages; and that, in fact, I ought to be punished for even mentioning the subject.

“I retired in disgrace, and very soon afterward I left Jerusalem, for I have found, by varied experiences, that the displeasure of rulers is an unhealthful atmosphere in which to live.  However, the Queen of Sheba did not get altogether the better of me.  As you know, King Solomon and his royal wife did not reign together very long.  They ruled over two great kingdoms, each of which required the presence of its sovereign; so Queen Balkis soon went back to Sheba with more wealth, more soldiers, more camels, horses, and grand surroundings of every kind, than she had brought with her.  She carried in her baggage-train her royal throne, but she did not take with her the beautiful Liridi.  That lady had been given in marriage to an officer in Solomon’s army, and thirty years afterward, in the land of Asshur, where her father was stationed, I married the youngest daughter of Liridi.  The latter was then dead, but my wife, with whom I lived happily for many years in Phoenicia, was quite as beautiful.  I was greatly inclined, at the time, to send a courier with a letter to the Queen of Sheba, informing her of what had happened; but I was afraid.  She was then an elderly woman, and I was informed that age had actually sharpened her wits, so that if I had incensed her and given her reason to suspect the truth about my unnatural age, I believe there was no known country in which I could have concealed myself from her emissaries.

“There are many, many incidents which crowd upon my memory,” continued my host, “but—­” and as he spoke he pulled out his watch.  “My conscience!” he exclaimed, “it is twenty minutes past three!  I should be ashamed of myself, Mr. Randolph, for having kept you up so long.”

We both rose to our feet, and I was about to say something polite, suited to the occasion, but he gave me no chance.