Those who are now growing up dress and smarten themselves with stuffs from Kaft,--[Phoenicia]--mix their language with Syrian words, and leave the steward and housekeeper free when they themselves ought to command.

Even my sister Katuti, and Nefert-- "Nefert is different from other women," interrupted Paaker, "and if you had brought her up she would know how to manage a house as well as how to ornament it." Setchem looked at her son in surprise; then she said, half to herself: "Yes, yes, she is a sweet child; it is impossible for any one to be angry with her who looks into her eyes.

And yet I was cruel to her because you were hurt by her, and because--but you know.

But now you have forgiven, I forgive her, willingly, her and her husband." Paaker's brow clouded, and while he paused in front of his mother he said with all the peculiar harshness of his voice: "He shall pine away in the desert, and the hyaenas of the North shall tear his unburied corpse." At these words Setchem covered her face with her veil, and clasped her hands tightly over the amulets hanging round her neck.

Then she said softly: "How terrible you can be! I know well that you hate the charioteer, for I have seen the seven arrows over your couch over which is written 'Death to Mena.' "That is a Syrian charm which a man turns against any one whom he desires to destroy.