much as you can. But Klea! why do you look at me
so--and look so gloomy and terrible? I cannot bear that look, I cannot
bear it!"

Irene sobbed aloud, and her sister went up to her, stroked her soft hair
from her brow, kissed her kindly, and said:

"I am not angry with you, child, and did not mean to hurt you. If only I
could cry as you do when clouds overshadow my heart, the blue sky would
shine again with me as soon as it does with you. Now dry your eyes,
go up to the temple, and enquire at what hour we are to go to the
singing-practice, and when the procession is to set out."

Irene obeyed; she went out with downcast eyes, but once out she looked
up again brightly, for she remembered the procession, and it occurred
to her that she would then see again the Roman's gay acquaintance,
and turning back into the room she laid her pomegranate-blossom in the
little bowl out of which she had formerly taken the violets, kissed her
sister as gaily as ever, and then reflected as to whether she would wear
the flower in her hair or in her bosom. Wear it, at any rate, she must,
for she must show plainly that she knew how to value such a gift.

As soon as Klea was alone she seized the trencher with a vehement
gesture, gave the roast bird to the gray cat, who had stolen back into
the room, turning away her head, for the mere smell of the pheasant was
like an insult. Then, while the cat bore off her welcome spoils into
a corner, she clutched a peach and raised her hand to fling it away
through a gap in the roof of the room; but she did not carry out her
purpose, for it occurred to her that Irene and little Philo, the son of
the gate-keeper, might enjoy the luscious fruit; so she laid it back on
the dish and took up the bread, for she was painfully hungry.

She was on the point of breaking the golden-brown cake, but acting on a
rapid impulse she tossed it back on the trencher saying to herself: "At
any rate I will owe him nothing; but I will not throw away the gifts of
the gods as he threw away my violets, for that would be a sin. All is
over between him and me, and if he appears to-day in the procession, and
if he chooses to look at me again I will compel my eyes to avoid meeting
his--aye, that I will, and will carry it through. But, Oh eternal gods!
and thou above all, great Serapis, whom I heartily serve, there is
another thing I cannot do without your aid. Help me, oh! help me to
forget him, that my very thoughts may remain pu