excellent opportunity for gay festivities. Sincerely as the majority of
the populace mourned the fate of the Queen, and gravely as the more
thoughtful feared for Alexandria's freedom under Roman rule, all rejoiced
over the lenient treatment of the city. Their lives and property were
safe, and the celebration of festivals had become a life habit with all
classes. But the news of the death of Didymus's wife and the illness of
the old man, who could not bear up under the loss of his faithful
companion, gave Dion a right to refuse any gay welcome at his home.

Barine's sorrow was his also, and Didymus died a few days after his wife,
with whom he had lived in the bonds of love for more than half a century
--people said, "of a broken heart."

So Dion and his young wife entered his beautiful palace with no noisy
festivities. Instead of the jubilant hymenaeus, the voice of his own
child greeted him on the threshold.

The mourning garments in which Barine welcomed him in the women's
apartment reminded him of the envy of the gods which his friend had
feared for him. But he often fancied that his mother's statue in the
tablinum looked specially happy when the young mistress of the house
entered it.

Barine, too, felt that her happiness as wife and mother in her
magnificent home would have been overwhelming had not a wise destiny
imposed upon her, just at this time, grief for those whom she loved.

Dion instantly devoted himself again to the affairs of the city and his
own business. He and the woman he loved, who had first become really
his own during a time of sore privation, had run into the harbour and