what were feast or famine to this woman, born in a palace, with the shadow of the Crown of the Two Egypts on her brows!  What were reedy morasses or the tinkle of running water to her whose barges could sweep the great Nile from the mountains to the sea.  What were petty joys and absence of petty fears to her, the raising of whose hand could hurl armies, or draw to the water-stairs of her palaces the commerce of the world!  At whose word rose temples filled with all the artistic beauty of the Times of Old which it was her aim and pleasure to restore!  Under whose guidance the solid rock yawned into the sepulchre that she designed!

“Surely, surely, such a one had nobler dreams!  I can feel them in my heart; I can see them with my sleeping eyes!”

As she spoke she seemed to be inspired; and her eyes had a far-away look as though they saw something beyond mortal sight.  And then the deep eyes filled up with unshed tears of great emotion.  The very soul of the woman seemed to speak in her voice; whilst we who listened sat entranced.

“I can see her in her loneliness and in the silence of her mighty pride, dreaming her own dream of things far different from those around her.  Of some other land, far, far away under the canopy of the silent night, lit by the cool, beautiful light of the stars.  A land under that Northern star, whence blew the sweet winds that cooled the feverish desert air.  A land of wholesome greenery, far, far away.  Where were no scheming and malignant priesthood; whose ideas were to lead to power through gloomy temples and more gloomy caverns of the dead, through an endless ritual of death!  A land where love was not base, but a divine possession of the soul!  Where there might be some one kindred spirit which could speak to hers through mortal lips like her own; whose being could merge with hers in a sweet communion of soul to soul, even as their breaths could mingle in the ambient air!  I know the feeling, for I have shared it myself.  I may speak of it now, since the blessing has come into my own life.  I may speak of it since it enables me to interpret the feelings, the very longing soul, of that sweet and lovely Queen, so different from her surroundings, so high above her time!  Whose nature, put into a word, could control the forces of the Under World; and the name of whose aspiration, though but graven on a star-lit jewel, could command all the powers in the Pantheon of the High Gods.

“And in the realisation of that dream she will surely be content to rest!”

We men sat silent, as the young girl gave her powerful interpretation of the design or purpose of the woman of old.  Her every word and tone carried with it the conviction of her own belief.  The loftiness of her thoughts seemed to uplift us all as we listened.  Her noble words, flowing in musical cadence and vibrant with internal force, seemed to issue from some great instrument of elemental power.  Even her tone