of Lochias. He had not ventured to raise his eyes
and look into her face. Not until she closed with the question whether
she might hope for his assistance did her gaze constrain him to glance
up. Ah, what had he not fancied he read in her imploring blue eyes! how
unspeakably beautiful she had appeared!

He had stood before her as if bereft of his senses. His sole knowledge
was that he had promised, with his hand on his heart, to do everything in
his power to prevent what threatened to cause her pain. Then her little
hand, with its sparkling rings, was again stretched towards him, and he
had resolved to kiss it; but while he glanced around at his train, she
had already waved him a farewell, and the litter was borne away.

He stood motionless, like the figure of a man on one of his mother's
ancient vases, staring in bewilderment after the flying figure of
Happiness, whom he might easily have caught by her floating locks. How he
raged over the miserable indecision which had defrauded him of so much
joy! Yet nothing was really lost. If he succeeded in fulfilling her
wishes, she could not fail to be grateful; and then--

He pondered over the person to whom he should apply--Mardion, the Regent,
or the Keeper of the Seal? No, they had planned the erection of the group
of sculpture in the philosopher's garden. To Iras, his mother's
confidante? Nay, last of all to her. The cunning woman would have
perceived his purpose and betrayed it to the Regent. Ah, if Charmian, his
mother's other attendant, had been present! but she was with the fleet,
which perhaps was even now engaged in battle with the enemy.

At this recollection his eyes again sought the ground--he had not been
permitted to take the place in the army to which his birth entitled him,
while his mother and Charmian--But he did not pursue this painful current
of thought; for a serious reproach had forced itself upon him and sent
the blood to his cheeks. He wished to be considered a man, and yet, in
these fateful days, which would determine the destiny of his mother, his
native city, Egypt, and that Rome which he, the only son of Caesar, was
taught to consider his heritage, he was visiting a beautiful woman,
thinking of her, and of her alone. His days and half the nights were
passed in forming plans for securing her love, forgetful of what should
have occupied his whole heart.

Only yesterday Iras had sharply admonished him that, in times like these,
it was the duty of