, had been enjoined to make
Caesar as like as possible in every respect to the hero he most revered.
Thus they looked like brothers. The figures were lighted up by the fires
which burned on two altars of ivory and gold. Beautiful boys, dressed as
armed Erotes, fed the flames.

The whole effect was magical and bewildering; but, as she followed her
guide, Melissa only felt that she was in the midst of a new world, such
as she might perhaps have seen in a dream; till, as they passed the
fountain, the cool drops sprinkled her face.

Then she suddenly remembered what had brought her hither. In a
minute she must appear as a supplicant in the presence of Korinna's
mother--perhaps even in that of Caesar himself--and the fate of all dear
to her depended on her demeanor. The sense of fulfilling a serious duty
was uppermost in her mind. She drew herself up, and replaced a stray
lock of hair; and her heart beat almost to bursting as she saw a number
of, men standing on the platform at the top of the steps, round a lady
who had just risen from her ivory seat. Giving her hand to a Roman
senator, distinguished by the purple edge to his toga, she descended the
steps, and advanced to meet Melissa.

This dignified matron, who was awaiting the ruler of the world and yet
could condescend to come forward to meet a humble artist's daughter,
was taller by half a head than her illustrious companion; and the few
minutes during which Berenike was coming toward her were enough to fill
Melissa with thankfulness, confidence, and admiration. And even in that
short time, as she gazed at the magnificent dress of blue brocade shot
with gold and sparkling with precious stones which draped the lady's
majestic figure, she thought how keen a pang it must cost the mother,
so lately bereft of her only child, to maintain a kindly, nay, a genial
aspect, in the midst of this display, toward Caesar and a troop of noisy
guests.

The sincerest pity for this woman, rich and preeminent as she was,
filled the soul of the girl, who herself was so much to be pitied. But
when the lady had come up to her, and asked, in her deep voice, what
was the danger that threatened her brother, Melissa, with unembarrassed
grace, and although it was the first time she had ever addressed a lady
of such high degree, answered simply, with a full sense of the business
in hand:

"My name is Melissa; I am the sister of Alexander the painter. I know
it is overbold to venture into your