Is its only love,
And one brief sigh of its scented breath
Is all it will ever know of Death;
Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily!"

As the sound died away in a sigh rather than a note, the Princess
Ziska's dancing ceased altogether. A shout of applause broke from
all assembled, and in the midst of it there was a sudden commotion
and excitement, and Dr. Dean was seen bending over a man's
prostrate figure. The great French painter, Armand Gervase, had
suddenly fainted.




CHAPTER XII.


A curious yet very general feeling of superstitious uneasiness and
discomfort pervaded the Gezireh Palace Hotel the day after the
Princess Ziska's reception. Something had happened, and no one
knew what. The proprieties had been outraged, but no one knew why.
It was certainly not the custom for a hostess, and a Princess to
boot, to dance like a wild bacchante before a crowd of her invited
guests, yet, as Dr. Dean blandly observed,--

"Where was the harm? In London, ladies of good birth and breeding
went in for 'skirt-dancing,' and no one presumed to breathe a word
against their reputations; why in Cairo should not a lady go in
for a Theban dance without being considered improper?"