how much a goat might cost for sacrifice, her countenance
cleared, for her savings were enough to pay for it and for a young cock
as well. All she had she left with the old man, to the last sesterce;
but she could only wait to see the cock sacrificed, for she felt she
must go home.

As soon as the blood of the bird had besprinkled the altar, and she had
told the divinities that a goat was also to be killed, she fancied that
they looked at her more kindly; and she was turning to the door, as
light and gay as if she had happily done some difficult task, when the
curtain screening off the library of archives was lifted, and a man came
out calling her by name. She turned round; but as soon as she saw that
he was a Roman, and, as his white toga told her, of the upper class,
she took fright. She hastily exclaimed that she was in a hurry, and flew
down the steps, through the garden, and into the road. Once there, she
reproached herself for foolish shyness of a stranger who was scarcely
younger than her own father; but by the time she had gone a few steps
she had forgotten the incident, and was rehearsing in her mind all she
had to tell Heron. She soon saw the tops of the palms and sycamores in
their own garden, her faithful old dog Melas barked with delight, and
the happiness which the meeting with the stranger had for a moment
interrupted revived with unchecked glow.

She was weary, and where could she rest so well as at home? She had
escaped many perils, and where could she feel so safe as under her
father's roof? Glad as she was at the prospect of her new and handsome
home on the other side of the lake, and of all the delights promised
her by Diodoros's affection, her heart still clung fondly to the pretty,
neat little dwelling whose low roof now gleamed in front of her. In
the garden, whose shell-strewn paths she now trod, she had played as a
child; that window belonged to the room where her mother had died. And
then, coming home was in itself a joy, when she had so much to tell that
was pleasant.

The dog leaped along by her side with vehement affection, jumping round
her and on her, and she heard the starling's cry, first "Olympias!" and
then "My strength!"

A happy smile parted her rosy lips as she glanced at the work-room; but
the two white teeth which always gleamed when she was gay were presently
hidden, for her father, it would seem, was out. He was certainly not at
work, for the wide window was unscreened, and