wins, the ten-year-old children of
Cleopatra and Antony--Antonius Helios and Cleopatra Selene. The girl was
pink and white, fair and wonderfully lovely; the boy no less beautiful,
but with ebon-black hair, like his father. Both curly heads were turned
towards the side, and rested on a dimpled hand pressed upon the silken
pillow.

Upon a third bed, beyond the arch, was Alexander, the youngest prince, a
lovely boy of six, the Queen's darling.

After gazing a long while at the twins, and pressing a light kiss upon
cheeks flushed with slumber, she turned to the youngest child and sank
beside his couch as if forced to bend the knee before some apparition
which Heaven had vouchsafed to her. Tears streamed from her eyes as,
drawing the child carefully towards her, she kissed his mouth, eyes,
and cheeks, and then laid him gently back upon the pillows. The boy,
however, did not instantly relapse into slumber, but threw his little
plump arms around his mother's neck, murmuring incomprehensible words.
She joyously submitted to his caresses, till sleep again overpowered
him, and his little hands fell back upon the bed.

She lingered a short time longer, with her brow resting on the ivory of
the couch, praying for this child and his brother and sister. When she
rose again her cheeks were wet with tears, and she pressed her hand
upon her breast. Then, beckoning to Charmian and Archibius, she motioned
towards Alexander and the twins, saying, as she saw tears glittering in
the eyes of both: "I know you have lost this happiness for my sake. For
each one of these children a great empire would not be too high a price;
for them all----What does earth contain that I would not bestow? Yet
what can I still call my own?"

Her smiling face clouded as she asked the question. The vision of
the lost battle again rose before her mind. Her own power was lost,
forfeited, and with it the independence of the native land which she
loved. Rome was already stretching out her hand to add it to the others
as a new province. But this should not be! Her twin children yonder,
sleeping beneath crowns, must wear them! And the boy slumbering on the
pillows? How many kingdoms Antony had bestowed! What remained for her to
give?

Again she bent to the child. A beautiful dream must have hovered over
him, for he was smiling in his sleep. A flood of maternal love welled up
in her agitated heart, and, as she saw the companions of her childhood
also gazing tenderly