inattentively he had listened, that Barine would have had good reason to
feel offended. But one glance at her sister and another at him enabled
her speedily to guess the truth. She was pleased; for she esteemed
Gorgias, and had secretly feared that she might be forced to grieve him
by a refusal, but he seemed as if created for her sister. Her arrival
had probably interrupted them so, turning to Helena, she exclaimed:
"I must see my mother and our grandparents. Meanwhile entertain our
friend here. We know each other well. He is one of the few men who can
be trusted. That is my honest opinion, Gorgias, and I say it to you
also, Helena."

With these words she nodded to both, and Gorgias was again alone with the
maiden whom he loved.

It was difficult to begin the conversation anew, and when, spite of many
efforts, it would not flow freely, the shout of the overseer, which
reached his ear through the opening of the roof, urging the men to work,
was like a deliverance. Promising to return again soon, as eagerly as if
he had been requested to do so, he took his leave and opened the door
leading into the adjoining room. But on the threshold he started back,
and Helena, who had followed him, did the same, for there stood his
friend Dion, and Barine's beautiful head lay on his breast, while his
hand rested as if in benediction on her fair hair. And--no, Gorgias was
not mistaken-the slender frame of the lovely woman, whose exuberant
vivacity had so often borne him and others away with it, trembled as if
shaken by deep and painful emotion.

When Dion perceived his friend, and Barine raised her head, turning her
face towards him, it was indeed wet with tears, but their source could
not be sorrow; for her blue eyes were sparkling with a happy light.