oted himself to this task during all the
hours of daylight with unflagging zeal and diligence. Before night fell
he was accustomed to leave his work and walk up and down in front of
Paulina's house, but for the present he refrained from knocking at the
door and asking after the girl he loved. He had heard from his mother
how anxiously she was guarded from him and his; still Paulina's severity
would certainly not have hindered the artist from making the attempt to
possess himself of his dearest treasure. What held him back from even
approaching Arsinoe, was the vow he had made to himself never to tempt
her to quit her new and sheltered home till he had acquired a firm
certainty of being once for all an artist, a true artist, who might hope
to do something great, and who might dare to link the fate of the woman
he loved, with his own.

When, on the eighth morning of his labors, he was taking a few minutes
rest, his brother's master came past the rapidly advancing work, and
after contemplating it for some time exclaimed:

"Splendid, splendid! Our time has produced nothing to compare with it!"

An hour later Pollux was standing at the door of Paulina's town-house,
and let the knocker fall heavily on the door. The steward opened to him
and asked him what he wanted. He asked to speak with dame Paulina,
but she was not at home. Then he asked after Arsinoe, the daughter of
Keraunus, who had found a home with the rich widow. The servant shook
his head.

"My mistress is having her searched for," he said. "She disappeared
yesterday evening. The ungrateful creature! She has tried to run away
several times before now."

The artist laughed, slapped the steward on the back, and said:

"I will soon find her!" and he sprang away down the street, and back to
his parents.

Arsinoe had received much kindness in Paulina's house, but she had also
gone through many bad hours. For months she had been obliged to believe
that her lover was dead. Pontius had told her that Pollux had entirely
vanished and her benefactress persisted in al ways speaking of him as
of one dead. The poor child had shed many tears for him, and when
the longing to talk of him with some one who had known him had taken
possession of her she had entreated Paulina to allow her to go to see
his mother or to let Doris visit her. But the widow had desired her to
give up all thought of the idol-maker and his belongings, speaking with
contempt of the gate-keeper's worthy