bewitched him; in his younger days he
would have given anything and everything to win her favor; now he was
satisfied to make his favor pleasing to her; he touched her playfully
two or three times on the arm and said gaily:

"Well pretty Roxana, has dame Julia done well with the dresses?"

"Oh! they have chosen such pretty, such really lovely things!" exclaimed
the girl.

"Have they?" said Plutarch, to conceal by speech the fact that he was
meditating on some subject; "Have they? and why should they not?"

Arsinoe's washed dress had caught the old man's eye, and remembering
that Gabinius the curiosity-dealer had that very morning been to him to
enquire whether Arsinoe were not in fact one of his work-girls, and
to repeat his statement that her father was a beggarly toady, full of
haughty airs, whose curiosities, of which he contemptuously mentioned
a few, were worth nothing, Plutarch was hastily asking himself how he
could best defend his pretty protege against the envious tongues of her
rivals; for many spiteful speeches of theirs had already come to his
ears.

"Whatever the noble Julia undertakes is always admirably done," he said
aloud, and he added in a whisper: "The day after to-morrow when the
goldsmiths have opened their workshops again, I will see what I can find
for you. I am falling in a heap, hold me up higher Antaeus and Atlas.
So.--Yes, my child you look even better from up here than from a lower
level. Is the stout man standing behind you your father?"

"Yes."

"Have you no mother?"

"She is dead."

"Oh!" said Plutarch in a tone of regret. Then turning to the steward he
said:

"Accept my congratulations on having such a daughter Keraunus. I hear
too that you have to supply a mother's place to her."

"Alas sir! she is very like my poor wife, since her death I live a
joyless life."

"But I hear that you take pleasure in collecting rare and beautiful
objects. This is a taste we have in common. Are you inclined to part
with the cup that belonged to my namesake Plutarch? It must be a fine
piece of work from what Gabinius tells me."

"That it is," replied the steward proudly. "It was a gift to the
philosopher from Trajan; beautifully carved in ivory. I cannot bear to
part with such a gem but," and as he spoke he lowered his voice. "I am
under obligations to you, you have taken charge of my daughter's outfit
and to offer you some return I will--"

"That is quite out of the question," interrupte