During their journey, the grey-haired, moody man had not spoken one word, and the other had left him to his meditations.  But now, as the boat neared the shore, the restless traveller, rising from his couch, called to his companion:  “We are just at our destination, Aristomachus!  That pleasant house to the left yonder, in the garden of palms which you can see rising above the waters, is the dwelling of my friend Rhodopis.  It was built by her husband Charaxus, and all her friends, not excepting the king himself, vie with one another in adding new beauties to it year by year.  A useless effort!  Let them adorn that house with all the treasures in the world, the woman who lives within will still remain its best ornament!”

[We are writing of the month of October, when the Nile begins to sink.  The inundations can now be accurately accounted for, especially since the important and laborious synoptical work of H. Barth and S. Baker.  They are occasioned by the tropical rains, and the melting of the snows on the high mountain-ranges at the Equator.  In the beginning of June a gradual rising of the Nile waters can be perceived; between the 15th and 20th June, this changes to a rapid increase; in the beginning of October the waters reach their highest elevation, a point, which, even after having begun their retreat, they once more attempt to attain; then, at first gradually, and afterwards with ever increasing rapidity, they continue to sink.  In January, February and March, the Nile is still drying up; and in May is at its lowest point, when the volume of its waters is only one- twentieth of that in October.]

The old man sat up, threw a passing glance at the building, smoothed the thick grey beard which clothed his cheeks and chin, but left the lips free,—­[The Spartans were not in the habit of wearing a beard on the upper lip.]—­and asked abruptly:  “Why so much enthusiasm, Phanes, for this Rhodopis?  How long have the Athenians been wont to extol old women?” At this remark the other smiled, and answered in a self-satisfied tone, “My knowledge of the world, and particularly of women, is, I flatter myself, an extended one, and yet I repeat, that in all Egypt I know of no nobler creature than this grey-haired woman.  When you have seen her and her lovely grandchild, and heard your favorite melodies sung by her well-practised choir of slave-girls, I think you will thank me for having brought you hither.”—­“Yet,” answered the Spartan gravely, “I should not have accompanied you, if I had not hoped to meet Phryxus, the Delphian, here.”

“You will find him here; and besides, I cannot but hope that the songs will cheer you, and dispel your gloomy thoughts.”  Aristomachus shook his head in denial, and answered:  “To you, sanguine Athenians, the melodies of your country may be cheering:  but not so to me; as in many a sleepless night of dreams, my longings will be doubled, not stilled by the songs of Alkman.”