"Thy lord Sah-luma hears thee with pleasure, Zoralin," replied the Laureate gently. "Thou dost speak more sweetly than many a bird doth sing!"

A rich, warm blush crimsoned the maiden's cheeks at these dulcet words,--she drew a quick, uneasy breath, and then went on,-"I love Niphrata!" she murmured in a soft tone of touching tenderness, . . "And I have watched her often when she deemed herself unseen, . . she has, methinks, shed many tears for sake of some deep, heart-buried sorrow! We have lived as sisters, sharing the same room, and the same couch of sleep, but alas! in spite of all my lord's most constant kindly favor, Niphrata is not happy, ..and.. and I have sometimes thought--" here her mellow voice sank into a nervous indistinctness--"that it may be because she loves my lord Sah-luma far too well!"

And as she said this she looked up with a sudden affright in her dark, lovely eyes, as though she were alarmed at her own presumption. Sah-luma met her troubled gaze calmly and with a bright smile of complacent vanity.

"And dost thou plead for thine absent friend, Zoralin?" ... he asked with just sufficient satire in his utterance to render it almost cruel.. "Am I to blame for the foolish fancies of all the amorous maidens in Al-Kyris? ... Many there be who love me, . . well,--what then?--Must I love many in return? Nay! Not so! the Poet is the worshiper of Ideal Beauty, and for him the brief passions of mortal men and women serve as mere pastime to while away an hour! But.. by my faith, thou hast gained wondrous boldness in thy speech to prate so glibly of the heart's emotion, --what knowest THOU concerning such things.. thou, who hast counted scarcely fifteen summers! ... hast thou caught contagion from Niphrata, and art thou too, sick of love?"

Oh, the dazzling smile with which he accompanied this poignant question! ... the pitiless, burning ardor he managed to convey into the sleeping brilliancy of his soft, poetic eyes! ... the beautiful languor of his attitude, as leaning his head back easily on one arm, he turned upon the shrinking girl a look that seemed intended to pierce into the very inmost recesses of her soul! The roseate color faded from her cheeks, . . white as a marble image she stood, her breath coming between her lips in quick, frightened gasps...

"My lord! ..." she stammered ... "I ..." Here her voice failed her, and suddenly covering her face with her hands, she broke into a passion of weeping. Sah-luma's delicate brows darkened into a close frown,--and he waved his hand with a petulant gesture of impatience.




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