“Can it be that I hear aright? Can it be that the greatest good fortune of my life thus far has come to me to-day; and that the maiden for whose favor princes strive can give her heart and hand to one who is to her merely Aleph the Chaldean—the unknown?”
“You are not unknown,” she replied with a face as radiant and transfigured as his own. “It is true that I do not know whether you are rich or poor, whether prince or peasant, but this I know, that in yourself alone you deserve the warmest love that woman can give; and I give it. You shall be my emperor.”
“What will Seti say?”
“He will say as I do—proud old Pharaoh as he is.”
“What will your father say—the rich, the ambitious?”
“He will say as Seti says till he comes to know you better; and then he will say as I do. Much as he values money, I happen to know that he values merit more.”
“What will the city say? That the Gem of Alexandria, who might have chosen the greatest and best in the land, and even been mistress of the West, has thrown herself away on a nameless adventurer?”
“Perhaps. But I do not propose to marry to suit the city.”
In a moment she found herself in his arms, and felt his warm, lingering lips on her forehead. She looked up at him archly and said:
“And what will your father say?”