“Wonder brought me,” she cried.  “I dreamed I saw thee kiss a maiden thrice and I came to see if it were true.”

“O most honest vision!  It is true and this is she,” Kenkenes answered, indicating Io.

Ta-meri flung up her hands and gazed at the blushing girl with wide eyes.

“Enough,” she said at last.  “It is indeed a marvel.  Never have I seen such a thing before, and never shall I see it again.”

“And if that be true, fie and for shame, Kenkenes,” Senci chid laughingly.

“Ta-meri always shuts her eyes,” the sculptor defended himself stoutly.  The nomarch’s daughter caught his meaning first and covered her face with her hands.  The chorus of laughter did not drown her protests.

“Kenkenes, thou art a mortal plague!” she exclaimed behind her defense.

“Truce,” he said.  “Thou didst accuse me and I did defend myself.  We are even.”

“Nay, but am I also even with Ta-meri?” Io asked shyly.

“Now,” Senci cried, “which of ye will say ‘aye’ or ‘nay’ to that!”

Ta-meri retreated protesting to the prow again, but the gang-plank had been withdrawn.  An army of slaves were breaking up the bridges of boats.  The oars of the nomarch’s barge rose and fell and the vessel bore away.  Ta-meri cried out again when she saw it depart but she made no effort to stay it.

“Come back, Ta-meri,” Io called.  “I shall not press thee for an accounting.”

The lanes of water between the boats cleared, the scented sails filled, the bristling fringes of oars dipped and flashed, a great shout arose from the populace on shore and the shining pageant moved away toward Thebes.  The barge of Nechutes swung into position on the left of Senci—­the oars on Mentu’s boat rose and halted and the vessel drifted till it was alongside her right.  Kenkenes put his arm about Io, who stood beside him and whispered exultantly or irreverently concerning the vigilance of the cup-bearer and the murket.

“And,” he continued oracularly, “there will be a third attending us when we return, if thou hast been coy with the gentle Seti during his long absence.”

“Nay, I have sent him messages faithfully and in no little point have I failed him in constancy.  But I can not see why he should love me, who am to the court-ladies as a thrush to peafowls.  He writes me such praise of Ta-user.”

“Now, Io!  Art thou so little versed in the ways of men that thou dost wonder why we love or how we love or whom we love?  The very fact that thou art different from Seti’s surroundings is like to make him love thee best.”

“I am not jealous; only he hath so much to tell of Ta-user.”

“Aye, since she is like to become his sister, it is not strange.  But what says he of her?”

Io thrust her hand into the mist of gauzes over her bosom and with a soft flush on her cheeks drew forth a small, flattened roll of linen.  Kenkenes made a place for her on his chair and drew her down beside him.  Together the pair undid the scroll and Kenkenes, following the tiny pink finger, came upon these words: