saw with his own eyes the works of the great
old Athenian masters in the Caesareum.

And this head was his son's work!

He stood there greatly overcome, his hands clasped together, holding his
breath till his mouth was dry, and swallowing his tears to keep them from
falling. At the same time he listened with anxious attention, so as not
to lose one word of Polykarp's.

"Aye, thus and thus only are great works of art begotten," said he to
himself, "and if the Lord had bestowed on me such gifts as on this lad,
no father, nay, no god, should have compelled me to leave my Ariadne
unfinished. The attitude of the body was not bad I should say--but the
head, the face--Aye, the man who can mould such a likeness as that has
his hand and eye guided by the holy spirits of art. He who has done that
head will be praised in the latter days together with the great Athenian
masters--and he-yes, he, merciful Heaven! he is my own beloved son!"

A blessed sense of rejoicing, such as he had not felt since his early
youth, filled his heart, and Dorothea's ardor seemed to him half pitiful
and half amusing.

It was not till his duteous son took the hammer in his hand, that he
stepped between his wife and the bust, saying kindly:

"There will be time enough to-morrow to destroy the work. Forget the
model, my son, now that you have taken advantage of it so successfully. I
know of a better mistress for you--Art--to whom belongs everything of
beauty that the Most High has created--In Art in all its breadth and
fulness, not fettered and narrowed by any Agapitus."

Polykarp flung himself into his father's arms, and the stern man, hardly
master of his emotions, kissed the boy's forehead, his eyes, and his
cheeks.

CHAPTER XIV.

At noon of the following day the senator went to the women's room, and
while he was still on the threshold, he asked his wife--who was busy at
the loom:

"Where is Polykarp? I did not find him with Antonius, who is working at
the placing of the altar, and I thought I might find him here."

"After going to the church," said Dorothea, "he went up the mountain. Go
down to the workshops, Marthana, and see if your brother has come back."

Her daughter obeyed quickly and gladly, for her brother was to her the
dearest, and seemed to her to be the best, of men. As soon as the pair
were alone together Petrus said, while he held out his hand to his wife
with genial affection, "Well, mother--shake hands." Dorothea pa