shed an oval bath of terebinthus-wood, covered outside with
tortoise-shell and filled with deliciously-scented water, in front of
the divan, and lifted the little white feet of the Empress into it.
Afterwards she loosened the net of gold-thread which confined the
luxurious hair of her mistress during the night, letting the rich dark
coils fall over neck and shoulders, and departed in her turn, calling
"Galatea!"

Galatea was an aged slave, the nurse, attendant, and, we regret to add,
the procuress of Theodora, when the latter was only the bespangled
daughter of Acacius the lion-keeper, and, while yet almost a child, the
already deeply-corrupted favourite of the great Circus.

Galatea had faithfully shared all the humiliations and triumphs, the
vices and cunning of the adventuress's life until the latter had
attained to the imperial throne.

"How hast thou slept, my dove?" asked Galatea, handing to Theodora in a
vessel of amber the aromatic essence which the town of Adana, in
Sicily, was forced to send in large quantities for the Empress's use as
a yearly tribute.

"Well; I dreamt of him."

"Of Alexandros?"

"No, thou fool! of the handsome Anicius."

"But Alexandros has been waiting for some time already; outside in the
secret niche."

"He is impatient," said the Empress, smiling; "well then, let him in!"

And she leaned back upon the long divan, drawing a cover of purple silk
over her; but the delicate ankles of her beautiful feet remained
visible.

Galatea bolted the principal door, through which she had entered, and
crossed the room to the opposite corner, which was filled by a colossal
bronze statue of Justinian. She touched a spring, and the seemingly
immovable mass turned on one side, exposing a small opening in the
wall, which was completely hidden by the statue in its normal position.
A dark curtain was drawn before this opening. Galatea lifted the
curtain and Alexandros hurried in. He threw himself on his knees before
the Empress, caught her small hand and covered it with kisses.

Theodora gently drew it away.

"It is very imprudent, Alexandros," said she, leaning back her lovely
head, "to admit a lover to the toilet of his mistress. What says the
poet: 'All things serve beauty. Yet it is no pleasant sight to see that
in preparation which only pleases when complete.' But I promised, when
you left for Ravenna, to admit you to my toilet, and you richly deserve
your reward. You have ventured much fo