“I will leave you a moment, and see if Nefert is not yet come home.”

Hardly had she left the veranda when Paaker, having convinced himself that no one could see him, snatched the flask from his girdle, and, with a short invocation to his father in Osiris, poured its whole contents into the beaker, which thus was filled to the very brim.  A few minutes later Nefert and her mother entered the hall.

Paaker took up the nosegay, which his slave had laid down on a seat, and timidly approached the young woman, who walked in with such an aspect of decision and self-confidence, that her mother looked at her in astonishment, while Paaker felt as if she had never before appeared so beautiful and brilliant.  Was it possible that she should love her husband, when his breach of faith troubled her so little?  Did her heart still belong to another?  Or had the love-philter set him in the place of Mena?  Yes! yes! for how warmly she greeted him.  She put out her hand to him while he was still quite far off, let it rest in his, thanked him with feeling, and praised his fidelity and generosity.

Then she went up to the table, begged Paaker to sit down with her, broke her cake, and enquired for her aunt Setchern, Paaker’s mother.

Katuti and Paaker watched all her movements with beating hearts.

Now she took up the beaker, and lifted it to her lips, but set it down again to answer Paaker’s remark that she was breakfasting late.

“I have hitherto been a real lazy-bones,” she said with a blush.  But this morning I got up early, to go and pray in the temple in the fresh dawn.  You know what has happened to the sacred ram of Amion.  It is a frightful occurrence.  The priests were all in the greatest agitation, but the venerable Bek el Chunsu received me himself, and interpreted my dream, and now my spirit is light and contented.”

“And you did all this without me?” said Katuti in gentle reproof.

“I would not disturb you,” replied Nefert.  “Besides,” she added coloring, “you never take me to the city and the temple in the morning.”

Again she took up the wine-cup and looked into it, but without drinking any, went on: 

“Would you like to hear what I dreamed, Paaker?  It was a strange vision.”

The pioneer could hardly breathe for expectation, still he begged her to tell her dream.

“Only think,” said Nefert, pushing the beaker on the smooth table, which was wet with a few drops which she had spilt, “I dreamed of the Neha-tree, down there in the great tub, which your father brought me from Punt, when I was a little child, and which since then has grown quite a tall tree.  There is no tree in the garden I love so much, for it always reminds me of your father, who was so kind to me, and whom I can never forget!”

Paaker bowed assent.

Nefert looked at him, and interrupted her story when she observed his crimson cheeks.