The light was too dim to discover in the distance anything new in the face of the queen.  She wore a loose, long gown of some light blue silken stuff; and her belt, shoes, neck, breast, and ears were all glittering with gems.  At the foot of the dais was a group of half a dozen showily dressed chamberlains and courtiers, who made a slight motion of greeting when the two guests darkened the doorway.  One of these functionaries advanced to Cornelia.

“Your ladyship,” he began, in a smooth, colourless voice, “I have the honour to be the Royal Introducing Chamberlain.  In approaching the queen, do as I shall direct.  First, before advancing to the dais bow slightly; then at the foot of the dais it is proper—­”

“Sir,” interrupted Cornelia, drawing herself up to her full height, “I am not accustomed to your prostrations and genuflections, and of them my countrymen make sorry work; pray excuse me.”  And without waiting for reply or expostulation she advanced straight toward the dais.  The hall was small, the steps from the door to the queen’s chair few; but never did Cornelia fare on more tedious journey.  She knew that a half-horrified titter was passing through the group of courtiers She knew that Cleopatra herself had stirred in her seat, as if to rise.  But one word sounded in Cornelia’s ears, and that word was “Rome.”  Were not Roman citizens nobles among nobles, and Roman senators peers of kings!  And she, daughter of the Cornelii and Claudii, whose ancestors had broken the might of Antiochus the Great and Mithridates—­should she not look in the face the heiress of the Lagidae?  Had not one hundred years before Popilius, the Roman commissioner, come unarmed into the presence of Antiochus Epiphanes, while he was advancing to the gates of defenceless Alexandria, drawn a circle in the dust about the king, and bidden him answer, before he stepped over, whether he would court destruction or obey the mandate of the Republic and leave Egypt in peace?  And had not the great king obeyed—­humbly?  Why, then, should not a Roman patrician maiden look down on a mere monarch, who was a pawn in the hands of her kinsfolk and countrymen?

To repeat these things is long.  The mind moves faster than the sunlight.  Cornelia came to the dais, and there gave the slightest inclination of her head—­the greeting of a mistress to slaves—­to the group of courtiers.  She advanced straight toward the royal chair and stretched forth her hand.

“I am your debtor, O queen, for a kindness that I may not soon, I fear, repay—­unless you come to Rome.”

She spoke as a superior addressing an inferior who had rendered some slight service.  The queen rose from her seat and took the proffered hand without the least hesitation.

“And I will ask for none other reward than that you do honour to my entertainment.”

The voice was wonderfully soft, modulated, and ringing; like an instrument of many strings.  Every syllable blended into the next in perfect harmony; to hear a few words was like listening unto music.