ot have been so quickly and utterly crushed
if he could have deluded himself as to the fact that his hopes of
possessing her had been driven into the remote background by the
events of the preceding evening. How could he dare to drag her into his
uncertain and compromised position? And what reception could he hope for
from her father if he should now attempt to demand her for his wife. As
these thoughts overpowered his mind he suddenly felt as if his eyes
were smarting with sand that had blown into them, and he could not help
springing out of bed; he paced his little room with long steps, and he
held his forehead pressed against the wall.

The dawn of a new day appeared as a welcome comfort, and by the time he
had eaten the morning porridge which his mother set before him--and
her eyes were red with weeping--the idea struck him that he would go to
Pontius, the architect. That was the lifeboat he espied.

Doris shared her son's breakfast but, contrary to her usual custom, she
spoke very little, only she frequently passed her hand over her son's
curly hair. Euphorion strode up and down the room, rummaging his brain
for ideas for an ode in which he might address the Emperor and implore
forgiveness for his son. Soon after breakfast Pollux went up to the
rotunda where the Queens' busts stood, hoping to see Arsinoe again,
and a loud snatch of song soon brought her out on to the balcony. They
exchanged greetings, and Pollux signed to her to come down to him. She
would have obeyed him more than gladly, but her father had also heard
the sculptor's voice and drove her back into the room. Still the mere
sight of his beloved fair one had done the artist good. Hardly had he
got back to his father's little house when Antinous came sauntering
in--he represented in the artist's mind the hospitable shores on which
he might gaze. Hope revived his soul, and Hope is the sun before which
despair flies as the shades of night flee at the rising of the day-star.

His artistic faculties were once more roused into play, and found a
field for their freest exercise when Antinous told him that he was at
his disposal till mid-day, since his master--or rather Caesar as he was
now permitted to name him--was engaged in business. The prefect Titianus
had come to him with a whole heap of papers, to work with him and his
private secretary. Pollux at once led the favorite into a side room of
the little house, with a northern aspect; here on a table lay th