here so soon after his return. Her facile tongue knew no pause as she
told him that she and her husband had gone forth with the rest to welcome
him at the triumphal arch near Menes' Gate, and Emau with them, and the
little one. Yes, Emau was married now, and had called her first child
Orion. And when the young man asked Dame Taus whether Emau was as
charming as ever and as like her mother as she used to be, she shook her
finger at him and asked in her turn, as she pointed towards the young
lady, whether the fickle bird at whose departure so many had sighed, was
to be caged at last, and whether yon fair lady....

But Orion cut her short, saying that he was still his own master though
he already felt the noose round his neck; and the fair lady blushed even
more deeply than at the good woman's first question. He however soon got
over his awkwardness and gaily declared that the worthy Taus' little
daughter was one of the prettiest girls in Memphis, and had had quite as
many admirers as her excellent mother's puff-pastry. Taus was to greet
her kindly from him.

The landlady departed, much touched and flattered; Orion took up his
lute, and while the ladies refreshed themselves he did the maiden's
bidding and sang the song by Alcaeus which she asked for, in a rich
though subdued voice to the lute, playing it like a master. The young
girl's eyes were fixed on his lips, and again, he seemed to be making
music for her alone. When it was time to start homewards, and the ladies
returned to the barge, he went up to the inn to pay the reckoning. As he
presently returned alone the Arab saw him pick up a handkerchief that the
young lady had left on the table, and hastily press it to his lips as he
went towards the barge.

The gorgeous red blossoms had fared worse in the morning. The young