uading his usually cautious uncle
to render her great services.

The remembrance of Arsinoe's undignified conduct at the Dionysia, and
the shameful stories of her which he had heard returned to his mind. At
the same time he saw Daphne rise before him in her aristocratic dignity
and kindly goodness, and a smile of satisfaction hovered around his lips
as he said to himself: "The spider Althea again! But, in spite of my
blindness, I will be caught neither in her net nor in the Queen's. They
are the last to bar the way which leads to Daphne and real happiness."

The Rhodian was just beginning to praise Arsinoe also as a special
friend and connoisseur of the sculptor's art when Crates, Hermon's
fellow-student, asked the blind artist, in behalf of his beautiful
companion, why his Demeter was placed upon a pedestal which, to others
as well as himself, seemed too high for the size of the statue.

Hermon replied that he had heard several make this criticism, but the
priests of the goddess refused to take it into account.

Here he hesitated, for, like a blow from an invisible hand, the thought
darted through his mind that perhaps, on the morrow, he would see
himself compelled before the whole world to cast aside the crown of fame
which he owed to the statue on the lofty pedestal. He did not have even
the remotest idea of continuing to deck himself with false renown if
his dread was realized; yet he doubtless imagined how this whole
aristocratic circle, with the Queen, Althea, and Proclus at its head,
would turn with reckless haste from the hapless man who had led them
into such a shameful error.

Yet what mattered it, even if these miserable people considered
themselves deceived and pointed the finger of scorn at him? Better
people would thereby be robbed of the right to accuse him of
faithlessness to himself. This thought darted through his heated brain
like a flash of lightning, and when, in spite of his silence, the
conversation was continued and Althea told the others that only Hermon's
blindness had prevented the creation of a work which could have been
confidently expected far to surpass the Demeter, since it seemed to have
been exactly suited to his special talent, he answered his beautiful
companion's remark curtly and absently.

She perceived this with annoyance and perplexity.

A woman who yearns for the regard of all men, and makes love a toy,
easily lessens the demands she imposes upon individuals. Only, even