he entered the sick-room.

Because Dion had told her that he deemed her fairest in the simple white
robe she had worn a few days before, when there were no guests save
himself and Gorgias, and she had sung until after midnight his favourite
songs as though all were intended for him alone, her choice had fallen
upon this garment. And she rejoiced that she had worn it--the wounded
man's eyes rested upon her so joyously when she sat down opposite to
him.

The physician had forbidden him to talk, and urged him to sleep if
possible. So Barine only held his hand in silence, whispering, whenever
he opened his eyes, a tender word of love and encouragement.

She had remained with him for hours, leaving her place at his side
merely to give him his medicine, or, with her mother's aid, place
poultices on his wounds.

When his manly face was distorted by suffering, she shared his pain; but
during most of the time a calm, pleasant sense of happiness pervaded her
mind. She felt safe and sheltered in the possession of the man whom
she loved, though fully aware of the perils which threatened him, and,
perhaps, her also. But the assurance of his love completely filled her
heart and cast every care entirely into the shade. Many men had seemed
estimable and agreeable, a few even desirable husbands, but Dion was the
first to awaken love in her ardent but by no means passionate soul. She
regarded the experiences of the past few days as a beautiful miracle.
How she had yearned and pined until the most fervent desire of her heart
was fulfilled! Now Dion had offered her his love, and nothing could rob
her of it.

Gorgias and the sons of her uncle Arius had disturbed her a short time.
After they had gone with a good report, Berenike had entreated her
daughter to lie down and let her take her place. But Barine would not
leave her lover's couch, and had just loosed her hair to brush it again
and fasten the thick, fair braids around her head, when, two hours after
midnight, some one knocked loudly on the window shutters. Berenike was
in the act of removing the poultice, so Barine herself went into the
atrium to wake the doorkeeper.

But the old man was not asleep, and had anticipated her. She recognized,
with a low cry of terror, the first person who entered the lighted
vestibule--Alexas. Iras followed, her head closely muffled, for
the storm was still howling through the streets. Last of all a
lantern-bearer crossed the threshold.

The Sy