t of the harm a piece of news might do her empty stomach,
and, while mentally seeing the flutter of a matron's beautiful blue
garment and the flash of Xanthe's rich dowry, eagerly asked the welcome
messenger:

"Does she speak the truth? And what is this about the robes?"

"I brought the clothes myself," replied Mopsus, "and packed them in a
beautiful chest inlaid with ivory, like those newlywedded youths receive
with the bridal dowry. Praxilla, the handsome sister of Alciphron's
wife, also gave--"

"Go and call Xanthe!" cried Semestre, interrupting the messenger. She
had laughed softly several times while listening to his tale, and, when
the girls hastily withdrew with Mopsus, cast a triumphant glance at
Jason.

Then, remembering how much was to be done to make fitting preparation
for the young suitor Leonax, she called loudly:

"Dorippe--Chloris! Chloris--Dorippe!" Neither of the maidens seemed to
hear, and, when obliged to resign all hope of an answer, she shrugged
her shoulders, and turning to Jason said:

"So young and so deaf; it is sad. Poor girls!"

"They like Mopsus better than you, and don't wish to hear," replied
Jason, laughing. "They can't," said Semestre, angrily. "Mopsus is a
bold, good-for-nothing fellow, whom I've often wanted to drive out of
the house, but I should like to see the person who refused me obedience.
As for your proposal, you have now heard distinctly enough that our girl
is intended for Leonax."

"But suppose Xanthe doesn't want Leonax, and prefers Phaon to the
stranger?"

"Alciphron's son a 'stranger' on the estates of his ancestors!"
exclaimed Semestre. "What don't we hear? But I must go to work to
prepare the best possible reception for Leonax, that he may feel from
the first he is no stranger here, but perfectly at home. Now go, if you
choose, and offer sacrifices to Aphrodite, that she may join the hearts
of Xanthe and Phaon. I'll stick to my spit."

"Then you'll be in the right place," cried Jason, "but you're not yet
turning it for Leonax's wedding-feast."

"And I promise you I'll prepare the roast for Phaon's," retorted
Semestre, "but not until the sacrifice of an animal I'm fattening myself
induces the foam-born goddess to kindle in Xanthe's heart sweet love for
Leonax."

CHAPTER II.

XANTHE.

"Xanthe, Xanthe!" called Semestre, a short time after. "Xanthe! Where is
the girl?"

The old woman had gone into the garden. Knowing how to use time to
advantage,