t to-day--it would spoil his work," replied Pontius. "I beg of you to
go, and let the annoyance you so vehemently expressed die out some where
else. The young sculptor must not know that you have seen this
caricature, it would occasion him much embarrassment. But if you can
return to-morrow in a calmer and more happy humor, with your lively
spirit tuned to a softer key, then Pollux will be able to make a likeness
which may satisfy the granddaughter of Claudius Balbillus."

"And, let us hope, the grandson of his learned teacher also," answered
Balbilla, with a kindly farewell greeting, as she went with her companion
towards the door of the hall of the Muses, where her slaves were waiting.
Pontius escorted her so far in silence, then he returned to the
work-place, and safely wrapped the caricature up again in its cloths.

As he went out into the hall again, Pollux hurried up to meet him,
exclaiming:

"The Roman architect wants to speak to you, he is a grand man!"

"Balbilla was called away, and bid me greet you," replied Pontius. "Take
that thing away for fear she should see it. It is coarse and hideous."

A few moments later he stood in the presence of the Emperor, who
expressed the wish to play the part of listener while Balbilla was
sitting. When the architect, after begging him not to let Pollux know of
the incident, told him of what had occurred in the screened-off studio,
and how angry the young Roman lady had been at the caricature, which was
certainly very offensive, Hadrian rubbed his hands and laughed aloud with
delight. Pontius ground his teeth, and then said very earnestly:

"Balbilla seems to me a merry-hearted girl, but of a noble nature. I see
no reason to laugh at her." Hadrian looked keenly into the daring
architect's eyes, laid his hand on his shoulder, and replied with a
certain threatening accent in his deep voice:

"It would be an evil moment for you, or for any one, who should do so in
my presence. But age may venture to play with edged tools, which children
may not even touch."

CHAPTER XVIII.

Selene entered the gate-way in the endlessly-long walk of sun-dried
bricks which enclosed the wide space where stood the court-yards,
water-tanks and huts, belonging to the great papyrus manufactory of
Plutarch, where she and her sister were accustomed to work. She could
generally reach it in a quarter of an hour, but to-day it had taken more
than four times as long and she herself did not know