alone and reminded Gorgo that she ought
to go to Dada. His daughter obeyed, but against her will; in spite of
all that Demetrius had said in the young girl's favor she felt a little
shy of her, and in approaching her more closely she had something of
the feeling of a fine lady who condescends to enter the squalid hovel of
poverty. But her father was right: Dada was her guest and she must treat
her with kindness.

Outside the door of the music-room she dried away her tears for her
brothers, for her emotion seemed to her too sacred to be confessed to a
creature who boldly defied the laws laid down by custom for the conduct
of women. From Dada's appearance she felt sure that all those lofty
ideas, which she herself had been taught to call "moral dignity" and
"a yearning for the highest things," must be quite foreign to this girl
with whom her cousin had condescended to intrigue. She felt herself
immeasurably her superior; but it would be ungenerous to allow her
to see this, and she spoke very kindly; but Dada answered timidly and
formally.

"I am glad," Gorgo began, "that accident brought you in our way;" and
Dada replied hastily: "I owe it to your father's kindness, and not to
accident."

"Yes, he is very kind," said Gorgo, ignoring Dada's indignant tone. "And
the last few hours have brought him terrible sorrows. You have heard, no
doubt, that he has lost his mother; you knew her--she had taken quite a
fancy to you, I suppose you know."

"Oh! forget it!" cried Dada.

"She was hard to win," Gorgo went on, "but she liked you. Do you not
believe me? You should have seen how carefully she chose the dress you
have on at this minute, and matched the ornaments to wear with it."

"Pray, pray say no more about it," Dada begged. "She is dead, and I have
forgiven her--but she thought badly, very badly of me."

"It is very bad of you to speak so," interrupted Gorgo, making no
attempt to conceal her annoyance at the girl's reply. "She--who is
dead--deserves more gratitude for her liberality and kindness!"

Dada shook her head.

"No," she said firmly. "I am grateful, even for the smallest kindness; I
have not often met with disinterested generosity. But she had an end in
view--I must say it once for all. She wanted to make use of me to bring
shame on Marcus and grief on his mother. You surely must know it; for
why should you have thought me too vile to sing with you if you did not
believe that I was a good-for-nothing hussy,