Rameri took the letter and read.  “Nebsecht to the fair Uarda.”

“Nebsecht greets Uarda, and informs her that he owed her grandfather in Osiris, Pinem—­whose body the kolchytes are embalming like that of a noble—­a sum of a thousand gold rings.  These he has entrusted to his brother Teta to hold ready for her at any moment.  She may trust Teta entirely, for he is honest, and ask him for money whenever she needs it.  It would be best that she should ask Teta to take care of the money for her, and to buy her a house and field; then she could remove into it, and live in it free from care with her grandmother.  She may wait a year, and then she may choose a husband.  Nebsecht loves Uarda much.  If at the end of thirteen months he has not been to see her, she had better marry whom she will; but not before she has shown the jewel left her by her mother to the king’s interpreter.”

“How strange!” exclaimed Rameri.  “Who would have given the singular physician, who always wore such dirty clothes, credit for such generosity?  But what is this jewel that you have?”

Uarda opened her shirt, and showed the prince the sparkling ornament.

“Those are diamonds—–­it is very valuable!” cried the prince; “and there in the middle on the onyx there are sharply engraved signs.  I cannot read them, but I will show them to the interpreter.  Did your mother wear that?”

“My father found it on her when she died,” said Uarda.  “She came to Egypt as a prisoner of war, and was as white as I am, but dumb, so she could not tell us the name of her home.”

“She belonged to some great house among the foreigners, and the children inherit from the mother,” cried the prince joyfully.  “You are a princess, Uarda!  Oh! how glad I am, and how much I love you!”

The girl smiled and said, “Now you will not be afraid to touch the daughter of the unclean.”

“You are cruel,” replied the prince.  “Shall I tell you what I determined on yesterday,—­what would not let me sleep last night,—­and for what I came here today?”

“Well?”

Rameri took a most beautiful white rose out of his robe and said: 

“It is very childish, but I thought how it would be if I might put this flower with my own hands into your shining hair.  May I?”

“It is a splendid rose!  I never saw such a fine one.”

“It is for my haughty princess.  Do pray let me dress your hair!  It is like silk from Tyre, like a swan’s breast, like golden star-beams—­there, it is fixed safely!  Nay, leave it so.  If the seven Hathors could see you, they would be jealous, for you are fairer than all of them.”

“How you flatter!” said Uarda, shyly blushing, and looking into his sparkling eyes.

“Uarda,” said the prince, pressing her hand to his heart.  “I have now but one wish.  Feel how my heart hammers and beats.  I believe it will never rest again till you—­yes, Uarda—­till you let me give you one, only one, kiss.”