"There are six good talents in there," he remarked to himself, "and then there is Artemisia." He had barely concluded this last, hardly intelligible assertion, when the curtain of the room was pushed aside, and in came a short, plump, rosy-faced little maiden of twelve, with a clearly chiselled Greek profile and lips as red as a cherry.

Her white chiton was mussed and a trifle soiled; and her thick black hair was tied back in a low knot, so as to cover what were two very shapely little ears.

All in all, she presented a very pretty picture, as the sunlight streamed over her, when she drew back the hangings at the window.
"Good morning, Uncle Pratinas," she said sweetly.
"Good morning, Artemisia, my dear," replied the other, giving her round neck a kiss, and a playful pinch.

"You will practise on your lyre, and let Sesostris teach you to sing.

You know we shall go back to Alexandria very soon; and it is pleasant there to have some accomplishments." "And must you go out so early, uncle ?" said the girl.