" 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.
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