knew no bounds. Everyone wanted to give him a commission,
particularly the elderly fair, and he could have made a fortune
had he chosen, after the example set him by the English
academicians, by painting the portraits of ugly nobodies who were
ready to pay any price to be turned out as handsome somebodies.
But he was too restless and ill at ease to apply himself steadily
to work,--the glowing skies of Egypt, the picturesque groups of
natives to be seen at every turn,--the curious corners of old
Cairo--these made no impression upon his mind at all, and when he
was alone, he passed whole half hours staring at the strange
picture he had made of the Princess Ziska, wherein the face of
death seemed confronting him through a mask of life. And he
welcomed with a strong sense of relief and expectation the long-
looked-for evening of the Princess's "reception," to which many of
the visitors in Cairo had been invited since a fortnight, and
which those persons who always profess to be "in the know," even
if they are wallowing in ignorance, declared would surpass any
entertainment ever given during the Cairene season.

The night came at last. It was exceedingly sultry, but bright and
clear, and the moon shone with effective brilliance on the gayly-
attired groups of people that between nine and ten o'clock began
to throng the narrow street in which the carved tomb-like portal
of the Princess Ziska's residence was the most conspicuous object.
Lady Chetwynd Lyle, remarkable for bad taste in her dress and the
disposal of her diamonds, stared in haughty amazement at the
Nubian, who saluted her and her daughters with the grin peculiar
to his uninviting cast of countenance, and swept into the
courtyard attended by her husband with an air as though she
imagined her presence gave the necessary flavor of "good style" to