ntle, sweet, sad face. Her sleeveless tunic showed her lovely arms
bare to the shoulder and left them free.

"I am called Poeri," said the young man; "I am steward of the royal
estates, and have the right to wear the gilded ram's-horns on my state
head-dress."

"And I am called Hora," replied Tahoser, who had arranged her little
story beforehand. "My parents are dead, their goods were sold by their
creditors, leaving me just enough to pay for their burial; so I have
been left alone and without means. But since you are kind enough to
receive me, I shall repay you for your hospitality. I have been taught
the work of women, although my condition did not oblige me to perform
it. I can spin and weave linen with thread of various colours; I can
imitate flowers and embroider ornaments on stuffs; I can even, when you
are tired by your work and overcome by the heat of the day, delight you
with song, harp, or lute."

"Hora, you are welcome to my dwelling," said the young man. "You will
find here, without taxing your strength,--for you seem to me to be
delicate,--occupation suitable for a maiden who has known better days;
among my maids are gentle and good girls who will be pleasant companions
for you, and who will show you how we live in this pastoral home. So the
days will pass, and perhaps brighter ones will dawn for you. If not, you
can quietly grow old in my home in the midst of abundance and peace. The
guest whom the gods send is sacred."

Having said these words, Poeri arose, as if to avoid the thanks of the
supposed Hora, who had prostrated herself at his feet and was kissing
them, as do wretches who have just been granted a favour; but the lover
in her had taken the place of the suppliant, and her ripe, rosy lips
found it hard to leave those beautiful, clean, white feet that resembled
the jasper feet of the gods.

Before going out to superintend the work of the farm, Poeri turned
around on the threshold of the room and said,--

"Hora, remain here until I have appointed a room for you. I shall send
you some food by one of my servants."

And he walked away quietly, the whip which marked his rank hanging from
his wrist. The workmen saluted him, placing one hand on their head and
the other to the ground, but by the cordiality of their salute it was
easily seen that he was a kind master. Sometimes he stopped to give an
order or a piece of advice, for he was greatly skilled in matters of
agriculture and gardening. Then