But Aneth Consinor seemed different from all the others. Not because she was fresh and sweet and girlish, for he had seen nice girls before; not that she was beautiful, because many women possess that enviable gift; not that she was gracious and intelligent, with a fascinating charm of manner, although that counts for much in winning men’s hearts. Perhaps, after all, it was her sincerity and the lights that lay in the clear depths of her wonderful eyes that formed her chief attraction. The eyes, he remembered, had impressed him at first, and they were destined to retain their power over him to the last.
And the strangest thing of all, it occurred to him, as he sat pleasantly chatting with her, was the fact that she was Lord Roane’s granddaughter and the child of Lord Consinor. A remark that Kāra had once made flashed across his mind: “The father, giving so little to his progeny, can scarce contaminate it, whatever he may chance to be.” Perhaps this was more logical than he had hitherto cared to believe.
Aneth mentioned Prince Kāra presently, and asked whether he knew him.
“Yes,” he answered; “it was I who discovered him. Kāra is one of my few finds.”
“And where was he discovered?” she asked, amused at his tone.
“In a mud village on the Nile bank, clothed in rags and coated with dirt. But he was very intelligent, for he had been educated by a clever relative who had once lived in the world; and, in some way, he and his people had access to an ancient hoarded treasure, so that the man was rich without knowing how to utilize his wealth. I purchased his treasure—or a part of it, at least—and brought him to Cairo. He was observant and quick to adapt himself to his new surroundings. He sold more treasure, I have since learned, and visited Paris and London. In six months the dirty Nile dweller has become a man of the world, and society accepted him because he is rich and talented.”
“How curious!” she exclaimed. “And is he, indeed, a descendant of the ancient kings?”
“So I believe—on his mother’s side, for the Egyptians trace their descent only from their mothers. Yet they are so inconsistent that it is of their fathers they boast. The Egyptian women have usually been poor creatures, listless and unintelligent. In this they differ from the women of almost every other semi-tropical country.”
“They must have been different in the olden times,” said the girl, gravely; “for it is not likely that the first real civilization of the world sprang from a stupid race. And think for how many centuries these poor creatures have been enslaved and trodden into the dust. I am inclined to think the contempt with which the Saracens regarded women is responsible for their present condition in Egypt. Have you found none of them clever or womanly, as we understand the latter term?”
He thought of Hatatcha.