pirations, she knew not. Certainly she had not
spoken, or even seemed to hint about them. But whether she betrayed
herself by some glance of the eye or tremor of the voice, or whether
some instinct had enabled him to read her, of a sudden he burst into a
wild, hollow laugh of disdain, threw her from him, and cried, with
unutterable contempt:

'This, then, was the purpose of all! This is what you dreamed of! That
you, a slave--an hour's plaything--could so mistake a word or two of
transient love-making as to fancy that you could ever be anything beyond
what you are now! Poor fool that thou art!--Oho, Drumo!'

The giant entered the room, and Leta again drew back into the closest
obscurity she could find, not knowing what punishment her audacity was
about to draw upon her. But worse, perhaps, than any other punishment,
was the discovery that Sergius had already forgotten her; or rather,
that he thought so little about her as to be able to dismiss her and her
pretensions with a single contemptuous rebuke. He had called his armor
bearer for another purpose than to speak of her. A new phase had passed
over his burdened and excited mind. He could not endure that solitude,
with ever-present disagreeable reflection. And since his disgrace must,
sooner or later, be known, he would brave it out by being himself the
first to publish it.

'Is it not to-morrow that the games begin?'

'Yes, master,' responded the armor bearer.

'And does it not--it seems to me that I promised to my friends a banquet
upon the previous night. If I did not, I meant to have done so. Go,
therefore, and bid them at once come hither! Tell the poet Emilius--and
Bassus--and the rest. You know all whom I would have. Let them know that
I hold revel here, and that not one must dare to stay away! Tell my
cooks to prepare a feast for the gods! Go! Despatch!'

The giant grinned his knowledge of all that his master's tastes would
require, and left the room to prepare for his errand. And in a moment
more Sergius also departed, without another thought of the Greek girl,
who stood shrinking from his notice in the shadow of the farthest
corner.

APHORISMS.--NO. XII.

Knowledge and Action.--It is a common fault of our humanity, when not
sunk too low in the scale of intellect, to seek knowledge rather than
attempt any laborious application of it. We love to add to our stock of
ideas, facts, or even notions of things, provided moderate pains will
suffice;