Short was the greeting, for next instant she looked away,
yet more full of meaning than whole days of speech.
"The Queen does not forget what the child remembered, the goddess is
still a woman," it seemed to say. And so sweet was that message that
Rames staggered from the Court like one stricken by the sun.
Night came at last, and having dismissed her secretaries, scribes and
tire-women the weary girl, now clad in simple white, sat in her chamber
alone. She thought of all the splendours through which she had passed;
she thought of the glories of her imperial state, of the power that she
wielded, and of the proud future which stretched before her feet.
But most of all she thought of the face of the young Count Rames, the
playmate of her childhood, the man she loved, and wondered, ah! how she
wondered, if with all her power she could ever draw him to her side.
If not, of what use was this rule over millions, this dominion of her
world? They called her a goddess, and in truth, at times, she believed
that she was half-divine, but if so, why did her heart ache like that of
any common maid?
Moreover, was she really set above the misfortunes of her race? Could
a throne, however bright with gold, lift her above the sorrows of human
kind? She desired to learn the truth, the very truth.
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