part of the room, and they all looked up at her as she stood thus,
in silent and somewhat superstitious wonderment. The fascinating
dancer, famed in ages past, and the lovely, living charmeresse of
the present were the image of each other, and so extraordinary was
the resemblance that it was almost what some folks would term
"uncanny." The fair Ziska did not, however, give her acquaintances
time for much meditation or surprise concerning the matter, for
she soon came down from her elevation near the sculptured frieze
and, extinguishing the taper she held, she said lightly:

"As Dr. Dean has remarked, there is really nothing of importance
in the coincidence. Ages ago, in the time of Araxes, roses must
have bloomed; and who shall say that a rose in to-day's garden is
not precisely the same in size, scent and color as one that Araxes
himself plucked at his palace gates? Thus, if flowers are born
alike in different ages, why not women and men?"

"Very well argued, Princess," said the Doctor. "I quite agree with
you. Nature is bound to repeat some of her choicest patterns, lest
she should forget the art of making them."

There was now a general movement among the guests, that particular
kind of movement which means irritability and restlessness, and
implies that either supper must be immediately served, or else
some novel entertainment be brought in to distract attention and
prevent tedium. The Princess, turning to Gervase, said smilingly:

"Apropos of the dancing-girl of Araxes and the art of dancing
generally, I am going to entertain the company presently by
letting them see a real old dance of Thebes. If you will excuse me