swered at all
to that of the Alexandrian spectators, something fine indeed was to be
expected.

It was now possible to see the beauty of the women and the costliness of
their attire; not till now had the precious stones shown their flashing
and changeful radiance. How many gardens and lotus-pools must have been
plundered, how many laurel-groves stripped to supply the wreaths which
graced every head in the upper rows! And to look round those ranks and
note the handsome raiment in which men and women alike were arrayed,
suggested a belief that all the inhabitants of Alexandria must be rich.
Wherever the eye turned, something beautiful or magnificent was to be
seen; and the numerous delightful pictures which crowded on the sight
were framed with massive garlands of lotos and mallow, lilies and roses,
olive and laurel, tall papyrus and waving palm, branches of pine and
willow-here hanging in thick festoons, there twining round the columns
or wreathing the pilasters and backs of seats.

Of all the couples in this incomparable amphitheatre one alone neither
saw nor heard all that was going on. Scarcely had the darkness given way
to light, when Melissa's eyes met those of her lover, and recognition
was immediately followed by a swift inquiry and reply which filled the
unhappy pair with revived hopes. Melissa's eyes told Diodoros that she
loved him and him alone, and she read in his that he could never give
her up. Still, his also expressed the doubt and anxiety of his tortured
soul, and sent question after question across to Melissa.

And she understood the mute appeal as well as though looks were words.
Without heeding the curious crowd about her, or considering the danger
of such audacity, she took up her nosegay and waved it toward him as
though to refresh him with its fragrance, and then pressed a hasty kiss
on the finest of the half-opened buds. His responsive gesture showed
that she had been understood, for her lover's expressive eyes beamed
with unqualified love and gratitude. Never, she thought, had he gazed
more fervently in her face, and again she bent over the bunch of roses.

But even in the midst of her newly found happiness her cheeks tingled
with maidenly modesty at her own boldness. Too happy to regret what she
had done, but still anxious lest the friend whose opinion was all in
all to her should disapprove, she forgot time and place, and, laying her
head on Euryale's shoulder, looked up at her in inquiry wi