“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.

“It is very hot!  Would you like some wine to drink—–­or some water?”

With these words she raised the wine-cup, and drank about half of the contents; then she shuddered, and while her pretty face took a comical expression, she turned to her mother, who was seated behind her and held the beaker towards her.

“The wine is quite sour to-day!” she said.  “Taste it, mother.”

Katuti took the little silver-cup in her hand, and gravely put it to her lips, but without wetting them.  A smile passed over her face, and her eyes met those of the pioneer, who stared at her in horror.  The picture flashed before her mind of herself languishing for the pioneer, and of his terror at her affection for him!  Her selfish and intriguing spirit was free from coarseness, and yet she could have laughed with all her heart even while engaged in the most shameful deed of her whole life.  She gave the wine back to her daughter, saying good-humoredly: 

“I have tasted sweeter, but acid is refreshing in this heat.”

“That is true,” said the wife of Mena; she emptied the cup to the bottom, and then went on, as if refreshed, “But I will tell you the rest of my dream.  I saw the Neha-tree, which your father gave me, quite plainly; nay I could have declared that I smelt its perfume, but the interpreter assured me that we never smell in our dreams.  I went up to the beautiful tree in admiration.  Then suddenly a hundred axes appeared in the air, wielded by unseen hands, and struck the poor tree with such violence that the branches one by one fell to the ground, and at last the trunk itself was felled.  If you think it grieved me you are mistaken.  On the contrary, I was delighted with the flashing hatchets and the flying splinters.  When at last nothing was left but the roots in the tub of earth, I perceived that the tree was rising to new life.  Suddenly my arms