's funeral.

The return of Archibius with the children, however, had visibly
reanimated her flagging energy. She often went to Didymus's garden,
which was now connected with the palace at Lochias, to watch their work
and share whatever interested their young hearts.

But the gayest of mothers, who had understood how to enter so thoroughly
into her children's pursuits, had now become a sorrowful, grave monitor.
Though the lessons she urged upon them were often beautiful and wise,
they were little suited to the ages of Archibius's pupils, for they
usually referred to death and to questions of philosophy not easily
understood by children.

She herself felt that she no longer struck the right key; but whenever
she tried to change it and jest with them as usual, she could endure
the forced gaiety only a short time; a painful revulsion, frequently
accompanied by tears, followed, and she was obliged to leave her
darlings.

The life her foe granted her seemed like an intrusive gift, an
oppressive debt, which we desire to pay a troublesome creditor as
soon as possible. She seemed calmer and apparently content only when
permitted to talk with the companions of her youth concerning bygone
days, or with them and Iras of death, and how it would be possible to
put an end to an unwelcome existence.

After such conversations Iras and Charmian left her with bleeding
hearts. They had long since resolved to share the fate of their royal
mistress, whatever it might be. Their common suffering was the bond
which again united them in affection. Iras had provided poisoned pins
which had speedily destroyed the animals upon which they had been
tried. Cleopatra knew of their existence, but she herself preferred the
painless death bestowed by the serpent's bite, and it was long since her
friends had seen the eyes of their beloved sovereign sparkle so brightly
as when Charmian told her that away had been found to obtain the uraeus
serpent as soon as it was needed. Put it was not yet imperative to adopt
the last expedient. Octavianus wished to be considered lenient, and
perhaps might still be prevailed upon to grant the Queen and her
children a future meet for their royal birth.

Cleopatra's reply was an incredulous smile, yet a faint hope which saved
her from despair began to bud in her soul.

Dolabella, an aristocratic Roman, a scion of the noble Cornelius family,
was in the Caesar's train, and had been presented to the Egyptian Queen.
In