“Ah, thou shouldst see her, my sweet.  Thou knowest she was born of a prince of Egypt and a lovely Tahennu, and the mingling of our dusky blood with that of a fair-haired northern people, hath wrought a marvelous beauty in Ta-user.  Her hair is like copper and like copper her eyes.  There is no brownness nor any flush in her skin.  It is like thick cream, smooth, soft and cool.  And when she walks, she minds me of my grandsire’s leopardess, which once did stride from shadow to shadow in the palace with that undulatory, unearthly grace.  In nature, she is world-compelling.  When first she met me, she took my face between her palms and gazed into mine eyes.  Ai! she bewitched me, then and there.  My individuality died within me—­I felt an unreasoning submission, strangely mingled with aversion.  I was compelled—­divorced from mine own forces, which vaguely protested from afar. . . .  And yet, thou shouldst see her meet Rameses.  He makes me marvel.  He knows—­she knows—­aye, all Egypt knows why she hath come to court, and yet they meet—­she salutes him with bewildering grace—­he inclines his proud head with never a tremor and they pass.  Or, if they tarry to talk, it is an awesome sight to see the determined encounter of two mighty souls—­tremendous charm against tremendous resistance—­and Io, I know that they have sounded to the deepest the depth of each other’s strength.  I long to see Ta-user conquer—­and yet, again I would not.”

Thereafter followed matters which Kenkenes did not read.  He rolled the letter and gave it back to Io.  The little girl sat expectantly watching his face.

“Nay, I would not take Seti’s boyish transports seriously,” he said gently.  “His very frankness disclaims any heart interest in Ta-user.  Besides, she is as old as I—­three whole Nile-floods older than the prince.  She thinks on him as Senci looks on me—­he regards her as a lad looks up to gracious womanhood.  Nay, fret not, thou dear jealous child.”

Io’s lips quivered as she looked away.

“It is over and over—­ever the same in every letter—­Ta-user, Ta-user, till I hate the name,” she said at last.

“Then when thou seest him at midday up the Nile, be thou gracious to some other comely young nobleman and see him wince.  Naught is so good for a lover as uncertainty.  It is a mistake to load him with the great weight of thy love.  Doubt not, thou shalt carry all the burden of jealousy and pain if thou dost.  Divide this latter with him, and he shall be content to share more of the first with thee.  But thou hast condemned him without trial, Io.  Spare thy heart the hurt and wait.”

The young face cleared and with a little sigh she settled back in the chair and said no more.

It was noon when the royal flotilla was sighted.  There were nineteen barges approaching in the form of two crescents like a parenthesis, the horns up and down the Nile, and in the center of the inclosed space was Meneptah’s float.  Here was only the royal family, the king, queen, Ta-user, and the two princes, who took the place of fan-bearers in attendance on their father.  The vessel was manned by two reliefs of twelve oarsmen from Theban nobility.