eemed to her that the
deserted guest-chamber must be like her own heart. She felt as if a worm
were gnawing there, and the warm blood congealing into ice.
Lost in these thoughts, she remained standing till at last her old
female slave appeared to light her to her sleeping apartment.
Silently Rhodopis allowed herself to be undressed, and then, as
silently, lifted the curtain which separated a second sleeping apartment
from her own. In the middle of this second room stood a bedstead of
maplewood, and there, on white sheets spread over a mattress of fine
sheep's wool, and protected from the cold by bright blue coverlets's,
lay a graceful, lovely girl asleep; this was Rhodopis' granddaughter,
Sappho. The rounded form and delicate figure seemed to denote one
already in opening maidenhood, but the peaceful, blissful smile could
only belong to a harmless, happy child.
One hand lay under her head, hidden among the thick dark brown hair, the
other clasped unconsciously a little amulet of green stone, which hung
round her neck. Over her closed eyes the long lashes trembled almost
imperceptibly, and a delicate pink flush came and went on the cheek of
the slumberer. The finely-cut nostrils rose and fell with her regular
breathing, and she lay there, a picture of innocence, of peace, smiling
in dreams, and of the slumber that the gods bestow on early youth, when
care has not yet come.
Softly and carefully, crossing the thick carpets on tiptoe, the
grey-haired woman approached, looked with unutterable tenderness into
the smiling, childish face, and, kneeling down silently by the side of
the bed, buried her face in its soft coverings, so that the girl's
hand just came in contact with her hair. Then she wept, and without
intermission; as though she hoped with this flood of tears to wash away
not only her recent humiliation, but with it all other sorrow from her
mind.
At length she rose, breathed a light kiss on the sleeping girl's
forehead, raised her hands in prayer towards heaven, and returned to her
own room, gently and carefully as she had come.
At her own bedside she found the old slave-woman, still waiting for her.
"What do you want so late, Melitta?" said Rhodopis, kindly, under her
breath. "Go to bed; at your age it is not good to remain up late, and
you know that I do not require you any longer. Good night! and do not
come to-morrow until I send for you. I shall not be able to sleep
much to-night, and shall be t
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