the tone of her voice the deep emotion of her heart.

Perhaps this had prevented Daphne's expressing her congratulations upon
the success of his Demeter as eagerly and fully as he had expected.
Painfully disturbed by her reserve, he had just attempted to induce her
to give a less superficial opinion of his work, when the curtains of
the dining room parted-the music of flutes, singing, and pleasant odours
greeted him and the guests. Archias summoned them to breakfast, and a
band of beautiful boys, with flowers and garlands of ivy, obeyed the
command to crown them.

Then Thyone approached the newly united pair and, after exchanging a few
words with Daphne, whispered in an agitated voice to the blind sculptor,
over whose breast a brown-locked young slave was just twining a garland
of roses: "Poverty no longer stands between you and the object of your
love; is it Nemesis who even now still seals your lips?"

Hermon stretched out his hand to draw her nearer to him and murmur
softly that her counsel had aided him to break the power of the terrible
goddess, but he grasped the empty air. At the same time the deep voice
of his love's father, whose opposition threatened to cloud his new
happiness, singing, flute-playing, and the laughter of fair women
greeted him and, only half master of his own will, he assented, by a
slight bend of the head, to the matron's question. A light shiver ran
through his frame with the speed of lightning, and the Epicurean's maxim
that fear and cold are companions darted through his brain. But what
should he fear? He had endured severe trials, it is true, for the sake
of remaining faithful to truth in art and life; but who probably ever
reached the age of manhood without once deviating from it? Besides, he
was surely aware that, had he been obliged to answer Thyone in words, he
would not have been guilty of the falsehood. His reply had consisted
of a slight motion of the head, and it negatived nothing; it was merely
intended to defer for a short time the thing he most desired.

Yet the rash answer weighed heavily on his mind; but it could no longer
be recalled that day, and was believed, for Thyone whispered, "We shall
succeed in reconciling the terrible being."

Again the light tremour ran through him, but it lasted only an instant;
for Chrysilla, the representative of the dead mistress of the house,
whose duty it was to assign the guests their places, called to Hermon,
"The beautiful Glycera doe