"Quite right, Simpkins," Mrs. Athelstone replied, evidently pleased by his interest and knowledge. "He was Amosis, a king of the eighteenth dynasty, and Nefruari's husband. A big, powerful man!" "What a bully cigarette brand he'd make!" thought Simpkins, and aloud he added: "They must have been a fine-looking pair." "Indeed, yes," was the earnest answer, and so they moved about the hall, she explaining, he listening and questioning, until at last they stood before the black altar in the west and the veil of velvet. Simpkins saw that there was an inscription carved in the basalt, and, drawing nearer, slowly spelled out: TIBI VNA QVE ES OMNIA DEA ISIS "And what's behind the curtain?" he began, turning toward Mrs. Athelstone. "The truth, of course. But remember," and her tone was half serious, "none but an adept may look behind the veil and live." "The truth is my long suit," returned Simpkins mendaciously. "So I'll take a chance." As he spoke, the heavy velvet fell aside and disclosed a statue of a woman carved in black marble. It stood on a pedestal of bronze, overlaid with silver, and above and behind were hangings of blue-gray silk. A brilliant ray of light beat down on it. Glancing up, Simpkins saw that it shone from a crescent moon in the arched ceiling above the altar. Then his eyes came back to the statue. There was something so lifelike in the pose of the figure, something so winning in the smile of the face, something so alluring in the outstretched arms, that he involuntarily stepped nearer. "And now that you've seen Isis, what do you think of her?" asked Mrs. Athelstone, breaking the momentary silence. "She's the real thing--the naked truth, sure enough," returned Simpkins with a grin. "It _is_ a wonderful statue!" was the literal answer. "There's no other like it in the world. Doctor Athelstone found it near Thebes, and took a good deal of pride in arranging this shrine. The device _is_ clever; the parting of the veil you see, makes the light shine down on the statue, and it dies out when I close it--so"; and, as she pulled a cord, the veil fell before the statue and the light melted away. [Illustration: "'She's the Real Thing.'"] "Aren't you initiating the neophyte rather early?" a man's voice asked at Simpkins' elbow, and, as he turned to see who it was, Mrs. Athelstone explained: "This is our new clerk, Mr. Simpkins; Doctor Brander is our treasurer, and our acting president while my husband's away. He left a few days ago for a little rest." And Mrs. Athelstone turned back to her desk.