ir zeal even assumed a tone of vehemence, when the dealer,
following in the wake of Plutarch, joined the group of disputants, and
they were certain of being heard by him.

"And who is this girl yonder?" asked Papias, pointing to Arsinoe, as the
two came up. "Nothing can be said against her beauty, but she is dressed
less than simply, and wears no kind of ornament worth speaking of--it is
a thousand to one against her parents being in a position to provide her
with such a rich dress, and such costly jewels as Roxana certainly ought
to display when about to be married to Alexander. The Asiatic princess
must appear in silk, gold and precious stones. Now my friend here will be
able so to dress his Praxilla that the splendor of her attire might have
astonished the great Macedonian himself, but who is the father of that
pretty child who is satisfied with the blue ribbon in her hair, her two
roses, and her little white frock?"

"Your reflections are just, Papias," interrupted the dealer, with dry
incisiveness. "The girl you are speaking of is quite out of the question.
I do not say so for my daughter's sake, but because everything in bad
taste is odious to me; it is hardly conceivable how such a young thing
could have had the audacity to force herself in here. A pretty face, to
be sure, opens locks and bars. She is--do not be too much startled--she
is nothing more than a work-girl in the papyrus factory of our excellent
host, Plutarch."

"That is not the truth," Pollux interrupted, indignantly, as he heard
this assertion.

"Moderate your tongue, young man," replied the dealer. "I can call you to
witness, noble Plutarch."

"Let her be whom she may," answered the old man, with annoyance. "She is
very one of my workwomen, but even if she had come straight here from the
gumming-table with such a face and such a figure, she is perfectly in
place here and everywhere. That is my opinion."

"Bravo! my fine friend!" cried Verus, nodding to the old man. "Caesar
will be far better pleased with such a paragon of charmers as that sweet
creature, than with all your old writs of citizenship and heavy purses."

"That is true," the prefect said, confirming this statement. "And I dare
swear she is a free maiden, and not a slave. But you stood up for her
friend Pollux--what do you know about her?"

"That she is the daughter of Keraunus, the palace-steward, and that I
have known her from her childhood," answered the youthful artist
empha