ith the winged sandals,
the tiny child clinging to his shoulder with one little arm stretched
out in an enchanting gesture of desire. Still the child nestled against
Hermes, and still Hermes contemplated the child, with a celestial
benignity, a half-smiling calmness of other worlds than this.

In the vestibule of the Emperors the guardian waited patiently. He was
not accustomed to visitors who lingered on like these two English,
when the light was failing, and surely it must be difficult, if not
impossible, to see the statues properly. But Rosamund, with her usual
lack of all effort, had captivated him. He had grown accustomed to her
visits; he was even flattered by them. It pleased him subtly to have in
his care a treasure such as the Hermes, to see which beautiful women,
the Rosamunds of the world, traveled from far-off countries. Rosamund's
perpetual, and prolonged, visits had made him feel more important than
he had ever succeeded in feeling before. Let the night come, she might
stay on there, if she chose. He took very little account of Dion. But
Rosamund was beginning to assume a certain vital importance in his quiet
life.

The green light faded into a very dim primrose; the music of the
sheep-bells drew near and died away among the small houses of the
hamlet at the foot of the hill of Drouva; Elis withdrew itself into the
obscurity that would last till the late coming of the waning moon. Of
Hermes and Dionysos now only the attitudes could be seen faintly. But
even they told of a golden age, an age from which everything ugly,
everything violent, everything unseemly, everything insincere,
everything cruel was blotted out--an age of serenity of body and soul,
the age of the long peace.

"He's gone," said Dion at last.

Rosamund got up slowly.

"You think he's taken away the child because of us?"

There was an almost pathetic sound in her voice, but there was a smile
in it too.

"You remember my stupid remark?"

"Perhaps it wasn't stupid. I think those who dare to have a child ought
to keep very near to the world Hermes walks in. They mayn't wear wings
on their sandals, but the earth oughtn't to hold their feet too fast.
Hermes has taught me."

"No one could ever want to take a child away from you," he answered.

In the vestibule of the Emperors they bade good-by to the guardian of
the Museum, and made him understand that on the morrow they would be
gone.

As he looked at Dion's gift he felt for a mome