Ayesha beckoned Leo to her, taking his hand and searching his face with her eyes, not without anxiety as I thought.
Now I turned, purposing to leave them alone, but she saw, and said to me, smiling—
Why wouldst thou forsake us. Holly? To go back to the Sanctuary once more?
and she looked at me with meaning in her glance. Hast thou questions to ask of the statue of the Mother yonder that thou lovest the place so much? They say it speaks, telling of the future to those who dare to kneel beside it uncompanioned from night till dawn. Yet I have often done so, but to me it has never spoken, though none long to learn the future more.
I made no answer, nor did she seem to expect any, for she went on at once—
Nay, bide here and let us have done with all sad and solemn thoughts. We three will sup together as of old, and for awhile forget our fears and cares, and be happy as children who know not sin and death, or that change which is death indeed. Oros, await my lord without. Papave, I will call thee later to disrobe me. Till then let none disturb us.
The room that Ayesha inhabited was not very large, as we saw by the hanging lamps with which it was lighted. It was plainly though richly furnished, the rock walls being covered with tapestries, and the tables and chairs inlaid with silver, but the only token that here a woman had her home was that about it stood several bowls of flowers. One of these, I remember, was filled with the delicate harebells I had admired, dug up roots and all, and set in moss.
A poor place,
said Ayesha, yet better than that in which I dwelt those two thousand years awaiting thy coming, Leo, for, see, beyond it is a garden, wherein I sit,
and she sank down upon a couch by the table, motioning to us to take our places opposite to her.
