Again she took up the wine-cup and looked into it, but without drinking any, went on:
"Would you like to hear what I dreamed, Paaker? It was a strange vision."
The pioneer could hardly breathe for expectation, still he begged her to tell her dream.
"Only think," said Nefert, pushing the beaker on the smooth table, which was wet with a few drops which she had spilt, "I dreamed of the Neha- tree, down there in the great tub, which your father brought me from Punt, when I was a little child, and which since then has grown quite a tall tree. There is no tree in the garden I love so much, for it always reminds me of your father, who was so kind to me, and whom I can never forget!"
Paaker bowed assent.
Nefert looked at him, and interrupted her story when she observed his crimson cheeks.
"It is very hot! Would you like some wine to drink—-or some water?"
With these words she raised the wine-cup, and drank about half of the contents; then she shuddered, and while her pretty face took a comical expression, she turned to her mother, who was seated behind her and held the beaker towards her.
"The wine is quite sour to-day!" she said. "Taste it, mother."
Katuti took the little silver-cup in her hand, and gravely put it to her lips, but without wetting them. A smile passed over her face, and her eyes met those of the pioneer, who stared at her in horror. The picture flashed before her mind of herself languishing for the pioneer, and of his terror at her affection for him! Her selfish and intriguing spirit was free from coarseness, and yet she could have laughed with all her heart even while engaged in the most shameful deed of her whole life. She gave the wine back to her daughter, saying good-humoredly: