s of boys and girls of the same
age as the prince and princess had flocked thither, the former bearing
bouquets, the latter small baskets filled with lilies and roses. Every
head was crowned with a wreath, and many of the girls wore garlands of
flowers. A chorus of youths and maidens sang a festal hymn, beseeching
the gods to grant the royal mother and children every happiness; the
leader of the chorus of girls made a short address in the name of the
city, and during this speech the children formed in ranks, the tallest in
the rear, the smallest in the front, and the others between according to
their height. The scene resembled a living garden, in which rosy faces
were the beautiful flowers.

Cleopatra thanked the citizens for the charming greeting sent to her by
those whom they held dearest, and assured them that she returned their
love. Her eyes grew dim with tears as she went with her three children to
the throng who offered their congratulations, and an unusually pretty
little girl whom she kissed threw her arms around her as tenderly as if
she were her own mother. And how beautiful was the scene when the girls
strewed the contents of their little baskets on the ground before her,
and the boys, with many a ringing shout and loving wish, offered the
bouquets to her and the twins!

Charmian had not forgotten to provide the gifts; and when the
chamberlains and waiting-women led the children into a large hall to
offer them refreshments, the Queen's eyes sparkled so brightly that the
companion of her childhood ventured to make her difficult confession.

And, as so often happens, the event we most dread shows, when it actually
occurs, a friendly or indifferent aspect; this was the case now. Nothing
in life is either great or small--the one may be transformed to the
other, according to the things with which it is compared. The tallest man
becomes a dwarf beside a rocky giant of the mountain chain, the smallest
is a Titan to the swarming ants in the forest. The beggar seizes as a
treasure what the rich man scornfully casts aside. That which the day
before yesterday seemed to Cleopatra unendurable, roused her keenest
anxiety, robbed her of part of her night's repose, and induced her to
adopt strenuous measures, now appeared trivial and scarcely worthy of
consideration.

Yesterday and to-day had brought events and called up questions which
forced Barine's disappearance into the realm of unimportant matters.

Charmian's c