even in my dreams--what have I besides in the world?"

At these words she broke off her soliloquy, for she heard Irene's voice,
a sound that must have had a favorable effect on her spirit, for she
paused, and the bitter expression her beautiful features had but just
now worn disappeared as she murmured, drawing a deep breath:

"I am not utterly bereft and wretched so long as I have her, and can
hear her voice."

Irene, on her road home, had given the modest offerings of the anchorite
Phibis into the charge of one of the temple-servants to lay before the
altar of Serapis, and now as she came into the room she hid the platter
with the Roman's donation behind her, and while still in the doorway,
called out to her sister:

"Guess now, what have I here?"

"Bread and dates from Serapion," replied Klea.

"Oh, dear no!" cried the other, holding out the plate to her sister,
"the very nicest dainties, fit for gods and kings. Only feel this peach,
does not it feel as soft as one of little Philo's cheeks? If I could
always provide such a substitute you would wish I might eat up your
breakfast every day. And now do you know who gave you all this? No, that
you will never guess! The tall Roman gave them me, the same you had the
violets from yesterday."

Klea's face turned crimson, and she said shortly and decidedly:

"How do you know that?"

"Because he told me so himself," replied Irene in a very altered tone,
for her sister's eyes were fixed upon her with an expression of stern
gravity, such as Irene had never seen in her before.

"And where are the violets?" asked Klea.

"He took them, and his friend gave me this pomegranate-flower,"
stammered Irene. "He himself wanted to give it me, but the Greek--a
handsome, merry man--would not permit it, and laid the flower there on
the platter. Take it--but do not look at me like that any longer, for I
cannot bear it!"

"I do not want it," said her sister, but not sharply; then, looking
down, she asked in a low voice: "Did the Roman keep the violets?"

"He kept--no, Klea--I will not tell you a lie! He flung them over the
house, and said such rough things as he did it, that I was frightened
and turned my back upon him quickly, for I felt the tears coming into
my eyes. What have you to do with the Roman? I feel so anxious, so
frightened--as I do sometimes when a storm is gathering and I am afraid
of it. And how pale your lips are! that comes of long fasting, no
doubt--eat now, as