his
ire."

The lady, however, did not heed the caution which her brother-in-law
intended to convey. As Melissa's imploring eyes met her own, she said,
with clear decision:

"Wait here. We shall see who it is that Caesar sends. I know better than
my lord here what it is to see those dear to us in peril. How old are
you, child?"

"Eighteen," replied Melissa.

"Eighteen?" repeated Berenike, as if the word were a pain to her, for her
daughter had been just of that age. Then she said, louder and with
encouraging kindness:

"All that lies in my power shall be done for you and yours.--And you,
Coeranus, must help me."

"If I can," he replied, "with all the zeal of my reverence for you and my
admiration for beauty. But here come the envoys. The elder, I see, is our
learned Philostratus, whose works are known to you; the younger is
Theocritus, the favorite of fortune of whom I was telling you. If the
charm of that face might but conquer the omnipotent youth--"

"Coeranus!" she exclaimed, with stern reproof; but she failed to hear the
senator's excuses, for her husband, Seleukus, followed her down the
steps, and with a hasty sign to her, advanced to meet his guests.

Theocritus was spokesman, and notwithstanding the mourning toga which
wrapped him in fine folds, his gestures did not belie his origin as an
actor and dancer. When Seleukus presented him to his wife, Theocritus
assured her that when, but an hour since, his sovereign lord, who was
already dressed and wreathed for the banquet, had learned that the gods
had bereft of their only child the couple whose hospitality had promised
him such a delightful evening, he had been equally shocked and grieved.
Caesar was deeply distressed at the unfortunate circumstance that he
should have happened in his ignorance to intrude on the seclusion which
was the prerogative of grief. He begged to assure her and her husband of
the high favor of the ruler of the world. As for himself, Theocritus, he
would not fail to describe the splendor with which they had decorated
their princely residence in Caesar's honor. His imperial master would be
touched, indeed, to hear that even the bereaved mother, who, like Niobe,
mourned for her offspring, had broken the stony spell which held her to
Sipylos, and had decked herself to receive the greatest of all earthly
guests as radiant as Juno at the golden table of the gods.

The lady succeeded in controlling herself and listening to the end of
t