hese pompous phrases without interrupting the speaker. Every word which
flowed so glibly from his tongue fell on her ear as bitter mockery; and
he himself was so repugnant to her, that she felt it a release when,
after exchanging a few words with the master of the house, he begged
leave to retire, as important business called him away. And this, indeed,
was the truth. For no consideration would he have left this duty to
another, for it was to communicate to Titianus, who had offended him, the
intelligence that Caesar had deprived him of the office of prefect, and
intended to examine into certain complaints of his administration.

The second envoy, however, remained, though he refused Seleukus's
invitation to fill his place at the banquet. He exchanged a few words
with the lady Berenike, and presently found himself taken aside by the
senator, and, after a short explanation, led up to Melissa, whom Coeranus
desired to appeal for help to Philostratus, the famous philosopher, who
enjoyed Caesar's closest confidence.

Coeranus then obeyed a sign from Berenike, who wished to know whether he
would be answerable for introducing this rarely pretty girl, who had
placed herself under their protection--and whom she, for her part, meant
to protect--to a courtier of whom she knew nothing but that he was a
writer of taste.

The question seemed to amuse Coeranus, but, seeing that his sister-in-law
was very much in earnest, he dropped his flippant tone and admitted that
Philostratus, as a young man, had been one of the last with whom he would
trust a girl. His far-famed letters sufficiently proved that the witty
philosopher had been a devoted and successful courtier of women. But that
was all a thing of the past. He still, no doubt, did homage to female
beauty, but he led a regular life, and had become one of the most ardent
and earnest upholders of religion and virtue. He was one of the learned
circle which gathered round Julia Domna, and it was by her desire that he
had accompanied Caracalla, to keep his mad passions in check when it
might be possible.

The conversation between Melissa and the philosopher had meanwhile taken
an unexpected turn. At his very first address the reply had died on her
lips, for in Caesar's representative she had recognized the Roman whom
she had seen in the Temple of Asklepios, and who had perhaps overheard
her there. Philostratus, too, seemed to remember the meeting; for his
shrewd face--a pleasing mixt