form in a few of the dignified attitudes he
intended to adopt in the presence of the emperor.

Meanwhile Melissa had thrown off the indifference into which she had
fallen, and her old doubts raised their warning heads with renewed
force.

Alexander swore to be her faithful ally; Euryale once more assured her
of her assistance; and yet, more especially when she was moved with pity
for her father, who was to leave all he loved for her sake, she felt as
if she were being driven hither and thither, in some frail bark, at the
mercy of the waves.

Suddenly a new idea flashed through her mind. She rose quickly.

"I will go to Diodoros," she cried, "and tell him all! He shall decide."

"Just now?" asked Euryale, startled. "You would certainly not find
your betrothed alone, and since all the world knows of Caracalla's
intentions, and gazes curiously after you, your visit would instantly
be reported to Caesar. Nor is it advisable for you to present yourself
before your offended lover, when you have neither Andreas nor any one
else to speak for you and take your part."

Melissa burst into tears, but the matron drew her to her and continued
tenderly:

"You must give that up--but, Alexander, do you go to your friend, and be
your sister's mouthpiece!"

The artist consented with all the ardor of brotherly affection, and
having received from Melissa, whose courage began to rise again, strict
injunctions as to what he was to say to her lover, he departed on his
errand.

Wholly absorbed by the stormy emotions of her heart, the maiden had
forgotten time and every external consideration; but the lady Euryale
was thoughtful for her, and now led her to her chamber to have her hair
dressed for the Circus. The matron carefully avoided, for the present,
all mention of her young friend's flight, though her mind was constantly
occupied with it--and not in vain.

The skillful waiting-woman, whom she had bought from the house of
the priest of Alexander, who was a Roman knight, loosened the girl's
abundant brown hair, and, with loud cries of admiration, declared it
would be easy to dress such locks in the most approved style of fashion.
She then laid the curling-irons on the dish of coals which stood on a
slender tripod, and was about to twist it into ringlets; but Melissa,
who had never resorted to such arts, refused to permit it. The slave
assured her, however, as earnestly as if it were a matter of the highest
importance, that it was