ly bright expression of his manly face
was clouded by a grave and troubled one.

The darkness of the night, illumined only by the flare of the
pitch-pans, had surrounded him, yet it had seemed as if he were standing
with Barine in the full light of noon in the blossoming garden of his
own palace, and, after asking a reward for his sturdy championship, she
had clung to him with deep emotion, and he had passionately kissed her
tearful face.

The face had quickly vanished, yet it had been as distinct as the most
vivid picture in a dream. Was Barine more to him than he supposed? Had
he not been drawn to her, during the past few months, by the mere charm
of her pliant intellect and her bright beauty? Had a new, strong passion
awakened within him? Was he in danger of seeing the will which urged him
to preserve his freedom conquered? Had he cause to fear that some
day, constrained by a mysterious, invincible power, in defiance of the
opposition of calm reason, he might perhaps bind himself for life to
this Barine, the woman who had once been the wife of a Philostratus, and
who bestowed her smiles on all who found admittance to her house seeking
a feast for the eye, a banquet for the ear, a pleasant entertainment?

Though her honor was as stainless as the breast of a swan--and he had
no reason to doubt it--she would still be classed with Aspasia and other
women whose guests sought more than songs and agreeable conversations.
The gifts with which the gods had so lavishly endowed her had already
been shared with too many to permit him, the last scion of a noble
Macedonian house, to think of leading her, as mistress, to the palace
whose erection he had so carefully and successfully planned with
Gorgias.

Surely it lacked nothing save the gracious rule of a mistress.

But if she should consent to become his without the blessing of Hymen?
No.

He could not thus dishonor the granddaughter of Didymus, the man who had
been his father's revered teacher, a woman whom he had always rejoiced
that, spite of the gay freedom with which she received so many admirers,
he could still esteem. He would not do so, though his friends would
have greeted such scruples with a smile of superiority. Who revered the
sacredness of marriage in a city whose queen was openly living for the
second time with the husband of another? Dion himself had formed many
a brief connection, but for that very reason he could not place a woman
like Barine on the same