he door of the
very house which he had been watching the night before. It was she,
then, whom he had seen!.... He was handed over by a black porter to a
smart slave-girl, who guided him up, through cloisters and corridors,
to the large library, where five or six young men were sitting, busily
engaged, under Theon's superintendence, in copying manuscripts and
drawing geometric diagrams.

Philammon gazed curiously at these symbols of a science unknown to
him, and wondered whether the day would ever come when he too would
understand their mysteries; but his eyes fell again as he saw the
youths staring at his ragged sheepskin and matted locks with undisguised
contempt. He could hardly collect himself enough to obey the summons of
the venerable old man, as he beckoned him silently out of the room, and
led him, with the titters of the young students ringing in his ears,
through the door by which he had entered, and along a gallery, till he
stopped and knocked humbly at a door.... She must be within! knocked
together under him. His heart sank and sank into abysses! Poor
wretch!.... He was half minded once to escape and dash into the
street.... but was it not his one hope, his one object?.... But why did
not that old man speak? If he would have but said something!.... If
he would only have looked cross, contemptuous!.... But with the same
impressive gravity, as of a man upon a business in which he had no
voice, and wished it to be understood that lie had none, the old man
silently opened the door, and Philammon followed.... There she was!
looking more glorious than ever; more than when glowing with the
enthusiasm of her own eloquence; more than when transfigured last night
in golden tresses and glittering moonbeams. There she sat, without
moving a finger, as the two entered. She greeted her father with a
smile, which made up for all her seeming want of courtesy to him, and
then fixed her large gray eyes full on Philammon.

'Here is the youth, my daughter. It was your wish, you know; and I
always believe that you know best--'

Another smile put an end to this speech, and the old man retreated
humbly toward another door, with a somewhat anxious visage, and then
lingering and looking back, his hand upon the latch--

'If you require any one, you know, you have only to call--we shall be
all in the library.'

Another smile; and the old man disappeared, leaving the two alone.

Philammon stood trembling, choking, his eyes fixed