he walked toward Daphne's
tent, and the anticipated "No" had pressed itself upon him far less
quickly than he expected.

One thing was undeniably certain: whoever won her for a wife--even though
she were the poorest of the poor--must be numbered among the most
enviable of men. And should he not recognise in his aversion to every one
of her suitors, and now to the aristocratic young Philotas, a feeling
which resembled jealousy?

No! He did not and would not love Daphne. If she were really his, and
whatever concerned him had become hers, with whom could he have sought in
hours like these soothing, kind, and sensible counsel, comfort that
calmed the heart, and the refreshing dew which his fading courage and
faltering creative power required?

The bare thought of touching clay and wax with his fingers, or taking
hammer, chisel, and file in his hands, was now repulsive; and when, just
outside of the tent, a Biamite woman who was bringing fish to the cook
reminded him of Ledscha, and that he had lost in her the right model for
his Arachne, he scarcely regretted it.

ARACHNE

By Georg Ebers

Volume 4.

CHAPTER XIV.

Outside the door of the tent Hermon was trying to banish Althea's image
from his mind. How foolishly he had overestimated last night the value of
this miserable actress, who as a woman had lost all charm for him--even
as a model for his Arachne!

He would rather have appeared before his pure friend with unsightly
stains on his robe than while mastered by yearning for the Thracian.

The first glance at Daphne's beloved face, the first words of her
greeting, taught him that he should find with her everything for which he
longed.

In simple, truthful words she reproached him for having neglected her to
the verge of incivility the evening before, but there was no trace of
bitterness or resentment in the accusation, and she gave Hermon little
time for apology, but quickly gladdened him with words of forgiveness.

In the opinion of her companion Chrysilla, Daphne ought to have kept the
capricious artist waiting much longer for pardon. True, the cautious
woman took no part in the conversation afterward, but she kept her charge
in sight while she was skilfully knotting the fringe into a cloth which
she had woven herself. On account of her favourite Philotas, it was well
for Daphne to be aware that she was watched.

Chrysilla was acquainted with life, and knew that Eros never mingles more
arbi