nd the loud talking and ordering on this spot, for so many
years left solitary and silent, attracted an inquirer, who, soon after
the apprentice had begun his work, had shown herself on the balcony, but
who had soon retreated after casting a glance at the dirty lad, splashed
from head to foot with plaster. This time, however, she remained to
watch, following every movement of Pollux as he directed the slaves;
though, all the time and whatever he was doing, he turned his back upon
her.

At last the portrait-head had found its right position, shrouded still
in a cloth to preserve it from the marks of workmen's hands. With a deep
breath the artist turned full on the steward's house, and immediately a
clear merry voice called out:

"What, tall Pollux! It really is tall Pollux; how glad I am!"

With these words the girl on the balcony loudly clapped her hands; and
as the sculptor hailed her in return, and shouted:

"And you are little Arsinoe, eternal gods! What the little thing has
come to!" She stood on tip-toe to seem taller, nodded at him pleasantly,
and laughed out: "I have not done growing yet; but as for you, you look
quite dignified with the beard on your chin, and your eagle's nose.
Selene did not tell me till to-day that you were living down there with
the others."

The artist's eyes were fixed on the girl, as if spellbound. There are
poetic natures in which the imagination immediately transmutes every
new thing that strikes the eyes or the intelligence, into a romance,
or rapidly embodies it in verse; and Pollux, like many of his calling,
could never set his eyes on a fine human form and face, without
instantly associating them with his art.

"A Galatea--a Galatea without an equal!" thought he, as he stood with
his eyes fixed on Arsinoe's face and figure. "Just as if she had this
instant risen from the sea--that form is just as fresh, and joyous, and
healthy; and her little curls wave back from her brow as if they were
still floating on the water; and now as she stoops, how full and supple
in every movement. It is like a daughter of Nereus following the line
of the as the waves as they rise into crests and dip again into watery
valleys. She is like Selene and her mother in the shape of her head and
the Greek cut of her face, but the elder sister is like the statue of
Prometheus before it had a soul, and Arsinoe is like the Master's work
after the celestial fire coursed through her veins."

The artist had f