that she loved him.

What he had just done for her and her grandfather was worthy of the
deepest gratitude; it proved that he did not come to her house, like
most of her guests, merely to while away the evening hours.

It had been no small matter for the young aristocrat, in the presence
of the whole multitude, to enter into a debate with the infamous
Philostratus, and how well he had succeeded in silencing the dreaded
orator! Besides, Dion had even taken her part against his own powerful
uncle, and perhaps by his deed drawn upon himself the hostility of
his enemy's brother, Alexas, Antony's powerful favourite. Barine might
assure herself that he, who was the peer of any Macedonian noble in the
city, would have done this for no one else.

She felt as if the act had ransomed her.

When, after an unhappy marriage and many desolate days, she had regained
her former bright cheerfulness and saw her house become the centre of
the intellectual life of the city, she had striven until now to extend
the same welcome to all her guests. She had perceived that she ought
not to give any one the power over her which is possessed by the man who
knows that he is beloved, and even to Dion she had granted little more
than to the others. But now she saw plainly that she would resign
the pleasure of being a universally admired woman, whose modest home
attracted the most distinguished men in the city, for the far greater
happiness which would be hers as Dion's beloved wife.

With him, cherished by his love, she believed that she could find far
greater joy in solitude than in the gay course of her present life.

She knew now what she must do if Dion sought her, and the architect,
for the first time, found her a silent companion. He had willingly
accompanied her back to her grandfather's house, where he had again met
her sister Helena, while she had quitted it disappointed, because her
brave defender had not returned there.

After the interruption of the debate Dion had been in a very cheerful
mood. The pleasant sensation of having championed a good cause, and
the delightful consciousness of success were not new to him, but he had
rarely felt so uplifted as now. He most ardently longed for his next
meeting with Barine, and imagined how he would describe what had
happened and claim her gratitude for his friendly service. The scene had
risen clearly before his mind, but scarcely had the radiant vision of
the future faded when the unusual