since passed beyond power of human torment.
Pisander recovered part of his equanimity, and Arsinoe and Semiramis
began to see life a shade less darkened.

Pratinas occasionally repeated his morning calls upon Valeria. He
seemed much engrossed with business, but was always the same suave,
elegant, accomplished personage that had endeared him to that lady's
heart. One morning he came in, in unusually good spirits.
"Congratulate me," he exclaimed, after saluting Valeria; "I have
disposed of a very delicate piece of work, and my mind can take a
little rest. At least I have roughly chiselled out the matter, as a
sculptor would say, and can now wait a bit before finishing. Ah! what
elegant study is this which is engrossing your ladyship this morning?"

"Pisander is reading from the works of Gorgias of Leontini," said
Valeria, languidly.

"To be sure," went on Pratinas; "I have always had the greatest
respect for the three nihilistic propositions of that philosopher. To
read him one is half convinced of the affirmation that nothing exists;
that if anything existed, the fact could not be known, and that if the
fact were known, it could not be communicated; although of course, my
dear madam, there are very grave objections to accepting such views in
their fulness."

"Of course," echoed Valeria. "Pisander, read Pratinas that little poem
of Archilochus, whose sentiment I so much admired, when I happened on
it yesterday."

Pisander fumbled among his rolls, then read, perhaps throwing a bit of
sarcasm into his tone:--

"Gyges'[67] wealth and honours great
Come not nigh to me!
Heavenly pow'r, or tyrant's state,
I'll not envy thee.
Swift let any sordid prize
Fade and vanish from my eyes!"

[67] A Lydian king whose wealth was placed on a par with that of the
better known Croesus.

"Your ladyship," said Pratinas, appearing entranced by the lines, "is
ever in search of the pearls of refined expression!"

"I wish," said Valeria, whose mind ran from Gorgias to Archilochus,
and then back to quite foreign matters, with lightning rapidity, "you
would tell Kallias, the sculptor, that the head-dress on my statue in
the atrium must be changed. I don't arrange my hair that way any
longer. He must put on a new head-dress without delay."[68]

[68] Such alterations were actually made in Rome.

"Certainly," assented the Greek.

"And now," said the lady, half entreating, half insinuating, "_you
must_ tell me w