ed more freely, and as she took leave of
her niece, feeling perhaps that she owed her some little reparation, she
said in an unusually kind tone:

"Good bye, child. Try to amuse yourself while I am gone. There is plenty
to look at here, and the others will soon be back again. If the city is
fairly quiet this evening we will all go out together, to Canopus, to eat
oysters. Good bye till we meet again, my pet!" She kissed the child, who
looked up at her in astonishment, for her adopted mother was not usually
lavish of such endearments.

Before long Dada was alone, cooling herself with her new fan and eating
sweetmeats; but she could not cease thinking of the shameful treachery
planned by old Damia, and while she rejoiced to reflect that she had not
fallen into the net, and had seen through the plot, her wrath against the
wicked old woman and Gorgo--whom she could not help including--burnt
within her. Meanwhile she looked about her, expecting to see Marcus, or
perhaps the young officer. Finding it impossible to think any evil of the
young Christian, and having already trusted him so far, her fancy dwelt
on him with particular pleasure; but she was curious, too, about the
prefect, the early love of the proud merchant's daughter.

Time went on; the sun was high in the heavens, she was tired of staring,
wondering and thinking, and, yawning wearily, she began to consider
whether she would make herself comfortable for a nap, or go down stairs
and fill up the time by dressing herself up in her new garments. However,
before she could do either, the slave returned from her errand to the
house, and a few moments after she espied the young officer crossing the
ship-yard towards the lake; she sat up, set the crescent straight that
she wore in her hair, and waved her fan in a graceful greeting.

The cavalry prefect, who knew that, of old, the barge was often used by
Porphyrius' guests, though he did not happen to have heard who were its
present occupants--bowed, with military politeness and precision, to the
pretty girl lounging on the deck. Dada returned the greeting; but this
seemed likely to be the end of their acquaintance, for the soldier walked
on without turning round. He looked handsomer even than he had seemed the
day before; his hair was freshly oiled and curled, his scale-armor
gleamed as brightly, and his crimson tunic was as new and rich as if he
were going at once to guard the Imperial throne. The merchant's daughter