r under the same roof so long."

"Do you know what the marble feels?"

"Nothing, Jason, nothing at all; that is, just as much as Xanthe feels
for Phaon. But what's that noise outside the door?"

The house-keeper was still talking, when one of the folding doors opened
a little, and Dorippe called through the crack:

"May we come in? Here's a messenger from Protarch."

"Admit him," cried Semestre, eagerly. The door flew wide open, and the
two girls entered the women's apartment with Mopsus, the brother of the
lively Chloris. The latter was clinging to his arm, and as he came into
the hall removed the broad-brimmed travelling-hat from his brown locks,
while dark-skinned Dorippe went behind him and pushed the hesitating
youth across the threshold, as a boat is launched into the sea.

In reply to the house-keeper's excited questions, he related that
Protarch had sold his master's oil at Messina for as high a price as his
own, bought two new horses for his neighbor Cleon, and sent Mopsus
himself forward with them. If the wind didn't change, he would arrive
that day.

While speaking, he drew from the girdle which confined his blue chiton,
bordered with white, around his waist, a strip of papyrus, and handed it
to Semestre with a greeting from his master.

The house-keeper looked at both sides of the yellow sheet, turned it over
and over, held it close to her eyes, and then glanced hesitatingly at
Jason. He would know that she could not read; but Xanthe could decipher
written sentences, and the young girl must soon appear at breakfast.

"Shall I read it?" asked the old man.

"I could do so myself, if I chose," replied the house-keeper, drawing her
staff over the floor in sharp and blunt angles, as if she were writing.
"I could, but I don't like to hear news on an empty stomach, and what is
said in this letter concerns myself, I should suppose, and nobody else.
Go and call Xanthe to breakfast, Dorippe."

"I know what is in it," cried the girl, reluctant to part from her
companion's brother, whom she loved, and who still had a great deal to
tell her about his journey to Messina. "Mopsus has told us. Our master's
nephew, Leonax, Alciphron's son, will accompany his uncle and stay for a
week or longer as a guest, not over yonder with Protarch, but here in our
house. He is a, handsome youth, even taller than Phaon, and Mopsus says
Alciphron's wife, by our master's request, dipped deep into his purse at
Messina, and bought