passed
by slowly behind them--short young men with skins almost as dark as
the skins of Arabs of the South, black eyes and faces full of active
mentality. They were talking eagerly, but stopped for a moment to look
at the English, and beyond them at the six maidens on their platform of
marble. Then they went on talking again, but presently hesitated, came
back, and stood not far off, gazing at the Porch with a mixture of
reverence and quiet wistfulness. Dion drew Rosamund's attention to them.

"They feel the beauty," he said.

"Yes, I like that."

She looked at the two young men with a smile. One of them noticed it,
and smiled back at her almost boyishly, and with a sort of confidential
simplicity.

The light began to fail. The six maidens were less clearly seen, but the
deep meaning of them did not lessen. In the gathering darkness they and
their sweet effort became more touching, more lovable. Their persistence
was exquisite now that they confronted with serenity the night.

"They are beautiful by day, but at night they are adorable," said
Rosamund.

"Don't you know why I thought of them when I met you?" he whispered.

She got up slowly. The Greek soldiers moved, turned, and went down the
slope towards the Propylae. Their quick voices were heard again. Then
there was the sound of a bell.

"Time to go," said Rosamund.

As they followed the soldiers she again put her arm through her young
husband's.

"Dion," she said, "I think I'm a little afraid of your ideals. I
understand them. I have ideals too. But I think perhaps mine are less in
danger of ever being shattered than yours are."

"Why? But I know mine are not in danger."

"How can you say that?"

"It's no use trying to frighten me. But what about your ideals? What is
the nature of the difference between yours and mine, which makes yours
so much less vulnerable than mine?"

But she only said:

"I don't believe I could explain it. But I feel it, and I shall go on
feeling it."

They went down the steep marble steps, gave the guardian at the foot of
them good night, and walked almost in silence to Athens.

CHAPTER IV

After that day Rosamund and Dion often talked of the child who might
eventually come into their lives to change them. Rosamund indeed, now
that such a possibility had been discussed between them, returned to it
with an eagerness which she did not seek to conceal. She was wonderfully
frank, and her frankness seemed to belong na