rary, that she might once see her Pollux, his father, his mother,
his bother Teuker or some one else they knew pass by her new home. Then
she might perhaps succeed in calling them, in asking what had become
of her friends, and in begging them to let her lover know where to seek
her.

Her adoptive mother had twice found her at the window and had forbidden
her, not unkindly but very positively, to look out into the street.
Arsinoe had followed her unresistingly into the interior of the house,
but as soon as she knew that Paulina was out or engaged, she slipped
back to the window again and looked out for him, who must at every hour
of the day be thinking of her. And she was not happy amid her new and
wealthy surroundings. At first she had found it very pleasant to stretch
her limbs on Paulina's soft cushions, not to stir a finger to help
herself, to eat the best of food and to have neither to attend to the
children nor to labor in the horrible papyrus-factory; but by the third
day she pined for liberty--and still more for the children, for Selene
and Pollux. Once she went out driving with Paulina in a covered carriage
for the first time in her life. As the horses started she had enjoyed
the rapid movement and had leaned out at one side to see the houses and
men flying past her; but Paulina had regarded this as not correct--as
she did so many other things that she herself thought right and
permissible--had desired her to draw in her head, and had told her
that a well-conducted girl must sit with her eyes in her lap when out
driving.

Paulina was kind, never was irritable, had her dressed and waited upon
like her own daughter, kissed her in the morning and when she bid her
good-night; and yet Arsinoe had never once thought of Paulina's demand
that she should love her. The proud woman, who was so cool in all the
friendly relations of life, and who, as she felt was always watching
her, was to her only a stranger who had her in her power. The fairest
sentiments of her soul she must always keep locked up from her.

Once, when Paulina, with tears in her eyes had spoken to her of her lost
daughter, Arsinoe had been softened and following the impulse of her
heart, had confided to her that she loved Pollux the sculptor and hoped
to be his wife.

"You love a maker of images!" Paulina had exclaimed, with as much horror
as if she had seen a toad; then she had paced uneasily up and down and
had added with her usual calm decision: