ness, and in fact
there was much in the eyes and mouth of the Roman architect that he had
never traced in any portrait of Hadrian 'Imperator.' And as they stood
before his scarcely-finished statue his respect increased for the new
visitor to Lochias; for, with earnest frankness, he pointed out to him
certain faults, and while praising the merits of the rapidly-executed
figure he explained in a few brief and pithy phrases his own conception
of the ideal Urania. Then shortly but clearly, he stated his views as to
how the plastic artist must deal with the problems of his art.

The young man's heart beat faster, and more than once he turned hot and
cold by turns as he heard things uttered by the bearded lips of this
imposing man, in a rich voice and in lucid phrases, which he had often
divined or vaguely felt, but for which, while learning, observing, and
working, he had never sought expression in words. And how kindly
the great master took up his timid observations, how convincingly he
answered them. Such a man as this he had never met, never had he bowed
with such full consent before the superiority and sovereign power of
another mind.

The second hour after midnight had begun, when Hadrian, standing before
the rough-cast clay bust, asked Pollux:

"What is this to be?"

"A portrait of a girl."

"Probably of the complaisant model who ventures into Lochias at night?"

"No; a lady of rank will sit to me."

"An Alexandrian?"

"Oh, no. A beauty in the train of the Empress."

"What is her name? I know all the Roman ladies."

"Balbilla."

"Balbilla? There are many of that name. What is she like, the lady you
mean?" asked Hadrian, with a cunning glance of amusement.

"That is easier to ask than to answer," replied the artist, who, seeing
his gray-bearded companion smile, recovered his gay vivacity, "But
stay--you have seen a peacock spread its tail--now only imagine that
every eye in the train of Hera's bird was a graceful round curl, and
that in the middle of the circle there was a charming, intelligent
girl's face, with a merry little nose, and a rather too high forehead,
and you will have the portrait of the young damsel who has graciously
permitted me to model from her person."

Hadrian laughed heartily, threw off his cloak, and exclaimed:

"Stand aside--I know your maiden--and if I mean a different one you
shall tell me."

While he was still speaking he had plunged his powerful hands into the
yielding cla