nsformed. This was caused solely by
meeting her cousins again; but if any one should ask her whether Daphne
preferred Myrtilus or Hermon, she could not give a positive answer.

"Cautious inquiry saves recantation," replied Bias importantly. "Yet you
may believe my experience, it is Myrtilus. Fame inspires love, and what
the world will not grant my master, in spite of his great talent, it
conceded to the other long ago. And, besides, we are not starving; but
Myrtilus is as rich as King Croesus of Sardis. Not that Daphne, who is
stifling in gold herself, would care about that, but whoever knows life
knows--where doves are, doves will fly."

Stephanion, however, was of a different opinion, not only because Daphne
talked far more about the black-bearded cousin than the fair one, but
because she knew the girl, and was seldom mistaken in such matters.
She would not deny that Daphne was also fond of Myrtilus. Yet probably
neither of the artists, but Philotas, would lead home the bride, for he
was related to the royal family--a fine, handsome man; and, besides,
her father preferred him to the other suitors who hovered around her as
flies buzzed about honey. Of course, matters would be more favourable
to Philotas in any other household. Who else in Alexandria would consult
the daughter long, when he was choosing her future husband? But Archias
was a white raven among fathers, and would never force his only child to
do anything.

Marrying and loving, however, were two different affairs. If Eros had
the final decision, her choice might perhaps fall on one of the artists.

Here she was interrupted by the slave's indignant exclamation: "What
contradictions! 'Woman's hair is long, but her wit is short,' says the
proverb. 'Waiting is the merchant's wisdom,' I have heard your master
say more than once, and to obey the words of shrewd people is the best
plan for those who are not so wise. Meanwhile, I am of the opinion that
curiosity alone brought Daphne--who, after all, is only a woman--to this
place. She wants to see the statues of Demeter which her father ordered
from us."

"And the Arachne?" asked the maid. This was an opportune question to the
slave--how often he had heard the artists utter the word "Arachne!"--and
his pride of education had suffered from the consciousness that he knew
nothing about her except the name, which in Greek meant "the spider."

Some special story must surely be associated with this Arachne, for
whi