interrupting his friend. "I
never once thought of this second Alcibiades when I mentioned her. What
can the manager of a performance do, but all in his power to secure the
applause of the audience? and, by my honor! it was for my own sake that I
wanted to bring Irene into the palace--I am mad with love for her--she
has undone me."

"Aye! like Callista, and Phryne, and the flute-player Stephanion,"
interrupted the Roman, shrugging his shoulders.

"How should it be different?" asked the Corinthian, looking at his friend
in astonishment. "Eros has many arrows in his quiver; one strikes deeply,
another less deeply; and I believe that the wound I have received to-day
will ache for many a week if I have to give up this child, who is even
more charming than the much-admired Hebe on our cistern."

"I advise you however to accustom yourself to the idea, and the sooner
the better," said Publius gravely, as he set himself with his arms
crossed, directly in front of the Greek. "What would you feel inclined to
do to me if I took a fancy to lure your pretty sister--whom Irene, I
repeat it, is said to resemble--to tempt her with base cunning from your
parents' house?"

"I protest against any such comparison," cried the Corinthian very
positively, and more genuinely exasperated than the Roman had ever seen
him.

"You are angry without cause," replied Publius calmly and gravely. "Your
sister is a charming girl, the ornament of your illustrious house, and
yet I dare compare the humble Irene--"

"With her! do you mean to say?" Lysias shouted again. "That is a poor
return for the hospitality which was shown to you by my parents and of
which you formally sang the praises. I am a good-natured fellow and will
submit to more from you than from any other man--I know not why,
myself;--but in a matter like this I do not understand a joke! My sister
is the only daughter of the noblest and richest house in Corinth and has
many suitors. She is in no respect inferior to the child of your own
parents, and I should like to know what you would say if I made so bold
as to compare the proud Lucretia with this poor little thing, who carries
water like a serving-maid."

"Do so, by all means!" interrupted Publius coolly, "I do not take your
rage amiss, for you do not know who these two sisters are, in the temple
of Serapis. Besides, they do not fill their jars for men but in the
service of a god. Here--take this roll and read it through while I answ