“Alas, indeed!” replied the girl.  She pressed her handkerchief in her hands as she went on with excited vehemence:  “I am in the last extremity, I can bear it no longer, I cannot—­I cannot!  I am no longer a child, and when in the evening you dread the night and in the morning dread the day which must be so wretched, so utterly unendurable. . . .”

“Then you listen to reason, my darling, and say to yourself that of two evils it is wise to choose the lesser.  You must hear me say once more what I have so often represented to you before now:  If we renounce our city of refuge here and venture out into the wide world again, what shall we find that will be an improvement?”

“Perhaps nothing but a hovel by a well under a couple of palm-trees; that would satisfy me, if I only had you and could be free—­free from every one else!”

“What is this; what does this mean?” muttered the elder woman shaking her head.  “You were quite content only the day before yesterday.  Something must have. . . .”

“Yes, must have happened and has,” interrupted the girl almost beside herself.  “My uncle’s son.—­You were there when he arrived—­and I thought, even I firmly believed that he was worthy of such a reception.  —­I—­I—­pity me, for I. . .  You do not know what influence that man exercises over hearts.—­And I—­I believed his eyes, his words, his songs and—­yes, I must confess all—­even his kisses on this hand!  But it was all false, all—­a lie, a cruel sport with a weak, simple heart, or even worse—­more insulting still!  In short, while he was doing all in his power to entrap me—­even the slaves in the barge observed it—­he was in the very act—­I heard it from Dame Neforis, who is only too glad when she can hurt me—­in the very act of suing for the hand of that little doll—­ you know her—­little Katharina.  She is his betrothed; and yet the shameless wretch dares to carry on his game with me; he has the face....”

Again Paula sobbed aloud; but the older woman did not know how to help in the matter and could only mutter to herself:  “Bad, bad—­what, this too!  —­Merciful Heaven! . . .”  But she presently recovered herself and said firmly:  “This is indeed a new and terrible misfortune; but we have known worse—­much, much worse!  So hold up your head, and whatever liking you may have in your heart for the traitor, tear it out and trample on it.  Your pride will help you; and if you have only just found out what my lord Orion is, you may thank God that things had gone no further between you!” Then she repeated to Paula all that she knew of Orion’s misconduct to the frenzied Mandane, and as Paula gave strong utterance to her indignation, she went on: 

“Yes, child, he is a man to break hearts and ruin happiness, and perhaps it was my duty to warn you against him; but as he is not a bad man in other things—­he saved the brother of Hathor the designer—­you know her —­from drowning, at the risk of his own life—­and as I hoped you might be on friendly terms with him at least, on his return home, I refrained....  And besides, old fool that I am, I fancied your proud heart wore a breastplate of mail, and after all it is only a foolish girl’s heart like any other, and now in its twenty-first year has given its love to a man for the first time.”