ught we belonged to each other, and you could not
love any one so well as you loved me. I don't like useless words, and
cannot tell you what is in my heart, but you knew it long ago. Now you
are watching for your cousin Leonax. We have never seen him, and I should
think--"

"But I know," interrupted the girl, rising so hastily that her roses fell
unheeded on the ground--"but I know he is a sensible man, his father's
right-hand, a man who would disdain to riot all night with flute-playing
women, and to woo girls only because they are rich."

"I don't do that either," replied Phaon. "Your flowers have dropped on
the ground--"

With these words the youth rose, bent over the roses, gathered them
together, and offered them to Xanthe with his left hand, while trying to
clasp her fingers in his right; but she drew back, saying:

"Put them on the bench, and go up to wash the sleep from your eyes."

"Do I look weary?"

"Of course, though you've lain here till noon."

"But I have scarcely slept for several days."

"And dare you boast of it?" asked Xanthe, with glowing cheeks. "I am not
your mother, and you must do as you choose, but if you think I belonged
to you because we played with each other as children, and I was not
unwilling to give you my hand in the dance, you are mistaken. I care for,
no man who turns day into night and night into day."

At the last words Xanthe's eyes filled with tears, and Phaon noticed it
with astonishment.

He gazed at her sadly and beseechingly, and then fixed his eyes on the
ground. At last he began to suspect the cause of her anger, and asked,
smiling:

"You probably mean that I riot all night?"

"Yes!" cried Xanthe; she withdrew her hand for the second time, and half
turned away.

"Oh!" he replied, in a tone of mingled surprise and sorrow, "you ought
not to have believed that."

"Xanthe turned, raised her eyes in astonishment, and asked

"Then where have you been these last nights?"

"Up in your olive-grove with the three Hermes."

"You?"

"How amazed you look!"

"I was only thinking of the wicked fellows who have robbed many trees of
their fruit. That savage Korax, with his thievish sons, lives just beside
the wall."

For your sake, Xanthe, and because your poor father is ill and unable to
look after his property, while Mopsus and your fishermen and slaves were
obliged to go in the ship to Messina, to handle the oars and manage the
sails, I always went up as soon as