or when Althea held out
her little tightly clinched fist to the artists and asked Myrtilus to
choose, the hand to which he pointed and she then opened was empty, and
she took from the other the ring, which she displayed with well-feigned
regret to the spectators.

Then Hermon knelt before her, and, as he offered Althea his wreath,
his dark eyes gazed so ardently into the blue ones of the red-haired
Greek-like Queen Arsinoe, she was of Thracian descent--that Ledscha was
now positively certain she knew for whose sake her lover had so basely
betrayed her.

How she hated this bold woman!

Yet she was forced to keep quiet, and pressed her lips tightly together
as Althea seized the white sheet and with marvellous celerity wound it
about her until it fell in exquisite folds like a long robe.

Surprise, curiosity, and a pleasant sense of satisfaction in seeing
what seemed to her a shameless display withdrawn from her lover's eyes,
rendered it easier for Ledscha to maintain her composure; yet she felt
the blood throbbing in her temples as Hermon remained kneeling before
the Hellene, gazing intently into her expressive face.

Was it not too narrow wholly to please the man who had known how to
praise her own beauty so passionately? Did not the outlines of Althea's
figure, which the bombyx robe only partially concealed, lack roundness
even more than her own?

And yet! As soon as Althea had transformed the sheet into a robe,
and held the wreath above him, Hermon's gaze rested on hers as though
enraptured, while from her bright blue eyes a flood of ardent admiration
poured upon the man for whom she held the victor's wreath.

This was done with the upper portion of her body bending very far
forward. The slender figure was poised on one foot; the other, covered
to the ankle with the long robe, hovered in the air. Had not the wings
which, as Nike, belonged to her been lacking, every one would have been
convinced that she was flying--that she had just descended from the
heights of Olympus to crown the kneeling victor. Not only her hand, her
gaze and her every feature awarded the prize to the man at her feet.

There was no doubt that, if Nike herself came to the earth to make the
best man happy with the noblest of crowns, the spectacle would be a
similar one.

And Hermon! No garlanded victor could look up to the gracious divinity
more joyously, more completely enthralled by grateful rapture.

The applause which now rang out mo