deserted guest-chamber must be like her own heart. She felt as if a worm
were gnawing there, and the warm blood congealing into ice.

Lost in these thoughts, she remained standing till at last her old female
slave appeared to light her to her sleeping apartment.

Silently Rhodopis allowed herself to be undressed, and then, as silently,
lifted the curtain which separated a second sleeping apartment from her
own. In the middle of this second room stood a bedstead of maplewood,
and there, on white sheets spread over a mattress of fine sheep's wool,
and protected from the cold by bright blue coverlets's, lay a graceful,
lovely girl asleep; this was Rhodopis' granddaughter, Sappho. The
rounded form and delicate figure seemed to denote one already in opening
maidenhood, but the peaceful, blissful smile could only belong to a
harmless, happy child.

One hand lay under her head, hidden among the thick dark brown hair, the
other clasped unconsciously a little amulet of green stone, which hung
round her neck. Over her closed eyes the long lashes trembled almost
imperceptibly, and a delicate pink flush came and went on the cheek of
the slumberer. The finely-cut nostrils rose and fell with her regular
breathing, and she lay there, a picture of innocence, of peace, smiling
in dreams, and of the slumber that the gods bestow on early youth, when
care has not yet come.

Softly and carefully, crossing the thick carpets on tiptoe, the grey-
haired woman approached, looked with unutterable tenderness into the
smiling, childish face, and, kneeling down silently by the side of the
bed, buried her face in its soft coverings, so that the girl's hand just
came in contact with her hair. Then she wept, and without intermission;