er than
feelings of friendship for her! When the Athenian drew her unconsciously
to his breast, deeming her still a child--when he kissed her cheek and
wound his arm around her trembling form, Nydia felt that those feelings
she had innocently cherished were of love.

What wonder then that into her wild and passionate soul should creep the
pangs of jealousy when another claimed the homage of him who was all to
her!

Glaucus loved Ione, a beautiful young Neapolitan of Greek parentage who
had lately come to Pompeii. She was one of those brilliant characters
which seldom flash across our career. She united in the highest
perfection the rarest of earthly gifts,--Genius and Beauty. No one ever
possessed superior intellectual qualities without knowing them. In the
person of Ione, Glaucus found the long-sought idol of his dreams; and so
infatuated was he, that he could talk of no one else. No song was sweet
but that which breathed of love, and to him love was but a synonym of
Ione.

"Play to us, dear Nydia,--play, and give us one of thy songs; whether it
be of magic or not as thou wilt--let it at least be of love."

"Of love! wish you that I should sing of love?"

"Yes."

She moved a little way from Ione, who had learned to love her more as a
sister than a slave, and placing her light, graceful instrument on her
knee, after a short prelude, she sang the following strain, in which
with touching pathos, her own sighs were represented by the _Wind_, the
brightness of the beautiful Ione by the _Sun-beam_, and the personality
of Glaucus by his favorite flower, the _Rose_.

I

The Wind and the Beam loved the Rose,
And the Rose loved one;
For who seeks the Wind where it blows?
Or loves not the Sun?

II

None knew where the humble Wind stole,
Poor sport of the skies--
None dreamt that the Wind had a soul,
In its mournful sighs!

III

Oh, happy Beam! how canst thou prove
That bright love of thine?
In thy light is the proof of thy love,
Thou hast but--to shine!

IV

How can the Wind its love reveal?
Unwelcome its sigh;
Mute--mute to its Rose be it still--
Its proof is--to die!

Alike in their mornings at the house of Ione, and in their evening
excursions, Nydia was usually their constant, and often their sole
companion. They did not guess the secret fires which consumed her; the
fla