ther, with whom I had always had
one heart and soul. But I never saw him as he was then. The first prize
had been awarded to you for your Aphrodite, radiant in marvellous beauty,
and your brow had also been already crowned for your statue of Alexander,
when Hermon stepped forward with his works. They were at the same time
the first which were to show what he believed to be the true mission of
art--a hideous hawker, hide in hand, praising his wares with open mouth,
and the struggling Maenads. Surely you know the horrible women who throw
one another on the ground, tearing and rending with bestial fury. The
spectacle of these fruits of the industry of one dear to me grieved me
also, and I could not understand how you and the others saw anything to
admire in them. And my father! At the sight of these things the colour
faded from his cheeks and lips, and, as if by virtue of his guardianship
he had a right to direct Hermon in the paths of art also, he forbade his
ward to waste any more time in such horrible scarecrows, and awaken
loathing and wrath instead of gratification, exultation, and joy. You
know the consequences, but you do not know how my heart ached when
Hermon, frantic with wounded pride and indignation, turned his back upon
my father and severed every tie that united him to us. In spite of his
deep vexation and the unbridled violence with which the nephew had
allowed himself to address his uncle, my father did not dream of
withholding his assistance from him. But Hermon no longer came to our
house, and when I sent for him to bring him to reason, he positively
declared that he would not accept another obolus from my father--he would
rather starve than permit any one to dictate to him in the choice of his
subjects. Liberty was worth more than his uncle's gold. Yet my father
sent him his annual allowance."

"But he refused it," added Myrtilus. "I remember that day well, how I
tried to persuade him, and, when he persisted in his intention, besought
him to accept from my abundance what he needed. But this, too, he
resolutely refused, though at that time I was already so deeply in his
debt that I could not repay him at all with paltry money."

"You are thinking of the devotion with which he nursed you when you were
so ill?" asked Daphne.

"Certainly; yet not of that alone," was the reply. "You do not know how
he stood by me in the worst days. Who was it that after my first great
successes, when base envy clouded many