? And you want me to seek your lover?"

"Yes, yes, my dear lord! and if you find him tell him I shall be alone
to-morrow early, and again towards evening, every day indeed, for then
your sister goes to serve her God in her country house."

"So you want to make me a lover's go-between. You could not find a more
inexperienced one."

"Ah! noble Pontius, if you have a heart--"

"Let me speak to the end, child! I will seek your lover, and if I find
him he shall know where you are, but I cannot and will not invite him
to an assignation here behind my sister's back. He shall come openly to
Paulina and prefer his suit. If she refuses her consent I will try to
take the matter in hand with Paulina. Are you satisfied with this?"

"I must need be. And tell me, you will let me know when you have found
out where he and his parents have gone?"

"That I promise you. And now tell the one thing. Are you happy in this
house?"

Arsinoe looked down in some embarrassment, then she hastily shook her
head in vehement negation and hurried away. Pontius looked after her
with compassion and sympathy.

"Poor, pretty little creature!" he murmured to himself, and went on to
his sister's room.

The house-steward had announced his visit, and Paulina met him on the
threshold. In his sister's sitting-room the architect found Eumenes, the
bishop, a dignified old man with clear, kind eyes.

"Your name is in everybody's mouth to-day," said Paulina, "after the
usual greetings. They say you did wonders last night."

"I got home very tired," said Pontius, "but as you so pressingly desired
to speak to me, I shortened my hours of rest."

"How sorry I am!" exclaimed the widow.

The bishop perceived that the brother and sister had business to discuss
together, and asked whether he were not interrupting it.

"On the contrary," cried Paulina. "The subject under discussion is my
newly-adopted daughter who, unhappily, has her head full of silly and
useless things. She tells me she has seen you at Lochias, Pontius."

"Yes, I know the pretty child."

"Yes, she is lovely to look upon," said the widow. "But her heart and
mind have been left wholly untrained, and in her the doctrine falls upon
stony ground, for she avails herself of every unoccupied moment to stare
at the horsemen and chariots that pass on the way to the Hippodrome. By
this inquisitive gaping she fills her head with a thousand useless and
distracting fancies; I am not always at home, an