his fine
old man, he had done all he could for the present to be of use to the
girl. He was glad, therefore, when in the street of Hermes, now swarming
again with citizens, soldiers, and horsemen, he met the old nurse, who,
after conducting Agatha home to her father, had been sent back to the
town to remain in attendance, if necessary, on Diodoros. The freedman
left it to her to escort Melissa to her own home, and went back to
report to Polybius--in the first place, as to his son's state.

It was decided that Melissa should for the present remain with her
father; but, as soon as Diodoros should be allowed to leave the
Serapeum, she was to go across the lake to receive the convalescent on
his return home.

The old woman assured her, as they walked on, that Diodoros had always
been born to good luck; and it was clear that this had never been truer
than now, when Galenus had come in the nick of time to restore him to
life and health, and when he had won such a bride as Melissa. Then she
sang the praises of Agatha, of her beauty and goodness, and told her
that the Christian damsel had made many inquiries concerning Alexander.
She, the speaker, had not been chary of her praise of the youth, and,
unless she was much mistaken, the arrow of Eros had this time pierced
Agatha's heart, though till now she had been as a child--an innocent
child--as she herself could say, who had seen her grow up from the
cradle. Her faith need not trouble either Melissa or Alexander, for
gentler and more modest wives than the Christian women were not to be
found among the Greeks--and she had known many.

Melissa rarely interrupted the garrulous old woman; but, while she
listened, pleasant pictures of the future rose before her fancy. She
saw herself and Diodoros ruling over Polybius's household, and, close
at hand, on Zeno's estate, Alexander with his beautiful and adored wife.
There, under Zeno's watchful eye, the wild youth would become a noble
man. Her father would often come to visit them, and in their happiness
would learn to find pleasure in life again. Only now and then the
thought of the sacrifice which the vehement Philip must make for his
younger brother, and of the danger which still threatened Alexander,
disturbed the cheerful contentment of her soul, rich as it was in glad
hopes.

The nearer they got to her own home, the more lightly her heart beat.
She had none but good news to report there. The old woman, panting for
breath, was