"She wished to see you, and must soon come in.

There are her cake and her wine waiting for her." With these words she took the napkin off the breakfast-table, held up the beaker in her hand, and then said, with the cloth still in her hand: "I will leave you a moment, and see if Nefert is not yet come home." Hardly had she left the veranda when Paaker, having convinced himself that no one could see him, snatched the flask from his girdle, and, with a short invocation to his father in Osiris, poured its whole contents into the beaker, which thus was filled to the very brim.

A few minutes later Nefert and her mother entered the hall.
Paaker took up the nosegay, which his slave had laid down on a seat, and timidly approached the young woman, who walked in with such an aspect of decision and self-confidence, that her mother looked at her in astonishment, while Paaker felt as if she had never before appeared so beautiful and brilliant.

Was it possible that she should love her husband, when his breach of faith troubled her so little?
Did her heart still belong to another?
Or had the love-philter set him in the place of Mena?
Yes! yes! for how warmly she greeted him.

She put out her hand to him while he was still quite far off, let it rest in his, thanked him with feeling, and praised his fidelity and generosity.
Then she went up to the table, begged Paaker to sit down with her, broke her cake, and enquired for her aunt Setchern, Paaker's mother.
Katuti and Paaker watched all her movements with beating hearts.
Now she took up the beaker, and lifted it to her lips, but set it down again to answer Paaker's remark that she was breakfasting late.
"I have hitherto been a real lazy-bones," she said with a blush.