niously with the deeper tones of
her companion, and two pairs of dark eyes again met, full of joyous
mirth, for they well knew who was deaf, and who had quicker hearing than
even the nightingale, which, perched on the green fig-tree outside, was
exultingly hailing the sunrise, now with a clear, flute-like warble, now
with notes of melancholy longing.

The house-keeper looked with mingled astonishment and anger at the two
laughing girls, then clapped her hands loudly, exclaiming:

"To work, wenches! You, Chloris, prepare the morning meal; and you,
Dorippe, see if the master wants anything, and bring fresh wood for the
fire. Stop your silly giggling, for laughing before sunrise causes
tears at evening. I suppose the jests of the vineyard watchmen are
still lingering in your heads. Now go, and don't touch food till you've
arranged your hair."

The girls, nudging each other, left the women's apartment, into which
the dawn was now shining more brightly through the open roof.

It was a stately room, surrounded by marble columns, which bore witness
to the owner's wealth, for the floor was beautifully adorned with
bright-hued pictures, mosaic work executed in colored stones by an
artist from Syracuse. They represented the young god Dionysius, the
Hyades surrounding him, and in colored groups all the gifts of the
divinities who watch over fields and gardens, as well as those of the
Nysian god. Each individual design, as well as the whole picture,
was inclosed in a framework of delicate lines. The hearth, over which
Semestre now bent, to fan the glimmering embers with a goose-wing, was
made of yellow marble.

Dorippe now returned, curtly said that the master wanted to be helped
into the open air, when the sun was higher, and brought, as she had been
ordered, a fresh supply of gnarled olive-branches, and pinecones, which,
kindling rapidly, coaxed the wood to unite its blaze with theirs.

Glittering sparks flew upward from the crackling branches toward the
open roof, and with them a column of warm smoke rose straight into the
pure, cool morning air; but as the door of the women's apartment now
opened, the draught swept the gray, floating pillar sideways, directly
toward Semestre, who was fanning the flames with her goose-wing.

Coughing violently, she wiped her eyes with the edge of her blue peplum,
and glanced angrily at the unbidden guest who ventured to enter the
women's apartment at this hour.

As soon as she recognize