Ever since she had come out of the temple I had scarcely taken my eyes off her, and now that I could see the marvellous beauty of her countenance, I was absolutely fascinated.  Never shall I forget these moments as long as I live, and yet I cannot give a clear and connected relation of them.  I see only a picture in my mind of a purple couch under a golden canopy, a fair form, a beautiful head crowned with golden hair, a glowing arm holding a white flower on its long green stalk.  Suddenly, as if impelled by an instinct, she turns her face full upon me as the barge comes opposite to her father’s throne.  I see her great violet eyes fixed upon mine as though she would read into my very soul.  I do not shrink from that pure search.  On the contrary, I feel myself drawn towards her by an irresistible attraction, and return her gaze.

She does not look away.  She smiles—­yes, she smiles upon me, and inclines her head to see me, like a sunflower following the sun, as she is floating past.

From that moment I was an altered man.  The vision of that peerless beauty had worked a miracle in my nature.  A strange peace, an unfathomable joy, I should rather say an ecstacy of bliss, reigned in my heart.  I felt that I had found something for which my soul had craved without knowing it, and had been seeking unawares—­something beyond all price, which is not merely the best that life, eternity, can offer; but gives to life, eternity, an inestimable value—­I felt that I had found the counterpart of myself—­the celestial mate of my spirit.  Henceforth there was only one woman in the world, in the universe, for me.  A mysterious instinct whispered that we belonged to each other—­that this incomparable creature was mine by an inviolable right, if not on this side of time at all events hereafter, and for ever.  I felt, too, that my own being had now completed its development, and burst into bloom like a plant under the vivifying rays of the sun.

Exulting in my new-found happiness, and overcome with gratitude for it, 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 Otare.  “Quite a living picture.”

“I am glad you like it,” responded Otare 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 Otare, 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.”