er had he
done the frolicsome deed than he paused, shook his head at himself and
muttered to himself: "Like a boy!"--He felt indeed like a happy child.
But as he waited he became calmer and graver. He acknowledged to himself,
with sincere thankfulness, that he had now found the ideal woman, of whom
he had dreamed in his hours of best inspiration, and that she was his,
wholly and alone. And after all, what was he? A poor rascal who had many
mouths to fill, and was no more than two fingers of his master's hand.
This must be altered. He would not reduce his sister's comforts in any
way but he must break with Papias, and stand henceforth on his own feet.
His courage mounted fast, and when at last, Arsinoe returned from her
sister, he had resolved that he must first finish Balbilla's bust with
all diligence in his own workshop, and that then he would model his
beloved; these two female heads he could not fail in. Caesar must see
them, they must be exhibited, and already in his mind's eye, he saw
himself refusing order after order, and accepting only the most splendid
where all were good.

Arsinoe went home comforted. Selene's sufferings were certainly less than
she had pictured them; she did not wish to be nursed by any one besides
dame Hannah. She might perhaps have a little fever, but any one who was
capable of discussing every little question of house-keeping, and all
that related to the children could not be--as Arsinoe thought while she
walked back through the garden, leaning on the artist's arm--really and
properly ill.

"It must revive and delight her to have Roxana for a sister!" cried
Pollux; but his pretty companion shook her head and said: "She is always
so odd; what most delights me is averse to her."

"Well Selene is of course the moon, and you are the sun."

"And what are you?" asked Arsinoe.

"I am tall Pollux, and to-night I feel as if I might some day be great
Pollux."

"If you succeed I shall grow with you."

"That will be your right, since it is only through you that I can ever
succeed in that which I propose to do.

"And how should a simple little thing, such as I am, be able to help an
artist?"

"By living, and by loving him," cried the sculptor, lifting her up in his
arms before she could prevent him.

Outside the garden-gate the old slave-woman was sitting asleep. She had
learnt from the porter that her young mistress had been admitted with her
companion, but she herself had been forbidden