s thee
if she were away from thy side? Couldst thou feel when she was present?
What would I not give to know the history of thy mailed breast--to gaze
upon the mechanism of thy faint desires--to mark what hair--breadth
difference separates thy sorrow from thy joy! Yet, methinks, thou
wouldst know if Ione were present! Thou wouldst feel her coming like a
happier air--like a gladder sun. I envy thee now, for thou knowest not
that she is absent; and I--would I could be like thee--between the
intervals of seeing her! What doubt, what presentiment, haunts me! why
will she not admit me? Days have passed since I heard her voice. For
the first time, life grows flat to me. I am as one who is left alone at
a banquet, the lights dead, and the flowers faded. Ah! Ione, couldst
thou dream how I adore thee!'

From these enamoured reveries, Glaucus was interrupted by the entrance
of Nydia. She came with her light, though cautious step, along the
marble tablinum. She passed the portico, and paused at the flowers
which bordered the garden. She had her water-vase in her hand, and she
sprinkled the thirsting plants, which seemed to brighten at her
approach. She bent to inhale their odor. She touched them timidly and
caressingly. She felt, along their stems, if any withered leaf or
creeping insect marred their beauty. And as she hovered from flower to
flower, with her earnest and youthful countenance and graceful motions,
you could not have imagined a fitter handmaid for the goddess of the
garden.

'Nydia, my child!' said Glaucus.

At the sound of his voice she paused at once--listening, blushing,
breathless; with her lips parted, her face upturned to catch the
direction of the sound, she laid down the vase--she hastened to him; and
wonderful it was to see how unerringly she threaded her dark way through
the flowers, and came by the shortest path to the side of her new lord.

'Nydia,' said Glaucus, tenderly stroking back her long and beautiful
hair, 'it is now three days since thou hast been under the protection of
my household gods. Have they smiled on thee? Art thou happy?'

'Ah! so happy!' sighed the slave.

'And now,' continued Glaucus, 'that thou hast recovered somewhat from
the hateful recollections of thy former state,--and now that they have
fitted thee (touching her broidered tunic) with garments more meet for
thy delicate shape--and now, sweet child, that thou hast accustomed
thyself to a happiness, which