n alone with
the maiden whom he loved.

It was difficult to begin the conversation anew, and when, spite of
many efforts, it would not flow freely, the shout of the overseer, which
reached his ear through the opening of the roof, urging the men to work,
was like a deliverance. Promising to return again soon, as eagerly as
if he had been requested to do so, he took his leave and opened the door
leading into the adjoining room. But on the threshold he started back,
and Helena, who had followed him, did the same, for there stood his
friend Dion, and Barine's beautiful head lay on his breast, while his
hand rested as if in benediction on her fair hair. And--no, Gorgias
was not mistaken-the slender frame of the lovely woman, whose exuberant
vivacity had so often borne him and others away with it, trembled as if
shaken by deep and painful emotion.

When Dion perceived his friend, and Barine raised her head, turning her
face towards him, it was indeed wet with tears, but their source could
not be sorrow; for her blue eyes were sparkling with a happy light.

Yet Gorgias found something in her features which he was unable to
express in words--the reflection of the ardent gratitude that had taken
possession of her soul and filled it absolutely. While seeking the
architect, Dion had met Barine, who was on her way to her grandparents,
and what he had dreaded the day before happened. The first glance from
her eyes which met his forced the decisive question from his lips.

In brief, earnest words he confessed his love for her, and his desire to
make her his own, as the pride and ornament of his house.

Then, in the intensity of her bliss, her eyes overflowed and, under the
spell of a great miracle wrought in her behalf, she found no words to
answer; but Dion had approached, clasped her right hand in both of his,
and frankly acknowledged how, with the image of his strict mother before
his eyes, he had wavered and hesitated until love had overmastered him.
Now, full of the warmest confidence, he asked whether she would consent
to rule as mistress of his home, the honour and ornament of his ancient
name? He knew that her heart was his, but he must hear one thing more
from her lips--

Here she had interrupted him with the cry, "This one thing--that your
wife, in joy and in sorrow, will live for you and you alone? The whole
world can vanish for her, now that you have raised her to your side and
she is yours."

After this assurance