your future enjoyment." In this her guests agreed,
and Ibykus named her a thorough disciple of Pythagoras, in praise of the
joyous, festive evening.

Every one prepared for departure. The Sybarite, who had been drinking
deeply in order to counteract the very inconvenient amount of feeling
excited by the conversation, rose also, assisted by his slaves, who had
to be called in for this purpose.

While he was being moved from his former comfortable position, he
stammered something about a "breach of hospitality;" but, when
Rhodopis was about to give him her hand at parting, the wine gained the
ascendancy and he exclaimed, "By Hercules, Rhodopis, you get rid of
us as if we were troublesome creditors. It is not my custom to leave a
supper so long as I can stand, still less to be turned out of doors like
a miserable parasite!"

"Hear reason, you immoderate Sybarite," began Rhodopis, endeavoring
with a smile to excuse her proceeding. But these words, in Philoinus'
half-intoxicated mood, only increased his irritation; he burst into a
mocking laugh, and staggering towards the door, shouted: "Immoderate
Sybarite, you call me? good! here you have your answer: Shameless
slave! one can still perceive the traces of what you were in your youth.
Farewell then, slave of Iadmon and Xanthus, freedwoman of Charaxus!"
He had not however finished his sentence, when Aristomachus rushed upon
him, stunned him with a blow of his fist, and carried him off like
a child down to the boat in which his slaves were waiting at the
garden-gate.

CHAPTER III.

The guests were all gone. Their departing mirth and joy had been smitten
down by the drunkard's abusive words, like fresh young corn beneath
a hail storm. Rhodopis was left standing alone in the empty, brightly
decorated (supper-room). Knakias extinguished the colored lamps on
the walls, and a dull, mysterious half-light took the place of their
brilliant rays, falling scantily and gloomily on the piled-up plates and
dishes, the remnants of the meal, and the seats and cushions, pushed out
of their places by the retiring guests. A cold breeze came through the
open door, for the dawn was at hand, and just before sunrise, the air is
generally unpleasantly cool in Egypt. A cold chill struck the limbs of
the aged woman through her light garments. She stood gazing tearlessly
and fixedly into the desolate room, whose walls but a few minutes before
had been echoing with joy and gladness, and it s