pproval.

"What is the use," she asked, "of cheating the children with silly
tales? Their father is gone, quite gone, but we will never, never forget
him."

"Are there any angels with red wings?" asked the youngest little girl.

"Oh! I want to be an angel!" cried Helios, clapping his hands. "And can
the angels see?"

"Yes, dear little man," replied Mastor, "and their eyes are wonderfully
bright, and all they look upon is beautiful."

"Tell them no more Christian nonsense," begged Arsinoe. "Ah! children,
when we shall have burned our father's body there will be nothing left
of him but a few grey ashes."

But the slave took the little blind boy on his knees and whispered to
him:

"Only believe what I tell you--you will see him again in Heaven."

Then he set him down again, gave Arsinoe a little bag of gold pieces in
Caesar's name, and begged her--for so his master desired--to find a new
abode and, after the deceased was burned on the morrow, to quit Lochias
with the children. When Mastor was gone Arsinoe opened the chest, in
which lay her father's papyri and the money that Plutarch had paid for
the ivory cup, put in the heavy purse sent by the Emperor, comforting
herself while her tears flowed, with the reflection that she and the
children were provided at any rate against immediate want.

But where was she to go with the little ones? Where could she hope to
find a refuge at once? What was to become of them when all they now
possessed was spent. The gods be thanked! she was not forlorn; she still
had friends. She could find protection and love with Pollux and look to
dame Doris for motherly counsel.

She quickly dried her eyes and changed the remains of her splendor
for the dark dress in which she was accustomed to work at the papyrus
factory; then, as soon as she had taken the pearls out of her hair, she
went down to the little gate-house.

She was only a few steps from the door--but why did not the Graces come
springing out to meet her? Why did she see no birds, no flowers in the
window? Was she deceived, was she dreaming or was she tricked by some
evil spirit? The door of the dear home-like little dwelling was wide
open and the sitting-room was absolutely empty, not a chattel was left
behind, forgotten--not a leaf from a plant was lying on the ground; for
dame Doris, in her tidy fashion, had swept out the few rooms where she
had grown grey in peace and contentment as carefully as though she were
to come i