stood a large wicker cage containing several nests of young goldfinches,
and with green food twined among the osiers. There were, too, a large
wine-jar and an ivory goblet decorated with fine carving. Close to the
drinking-vessels, on the stone top of the table, rested the arm of an
elderly woman who had fallen asleep in the arm-chair in which she sat.
Notwithstanding the faint grey moustache that marked her upper-lip and
the pronounced ruddiness of her fore head and cheeks, she looked pleasant
and kind. She must have been dreaming of something that pleased her, for
the expression of her lips and of her eyes-one being half open and the
other closely shut-gave her a look of contentment. In her lap slept a
large grey cat, and by its side--as though discord never could enter this
bright little abode which exhaled no savor of poverty, but, on the
contrary, a peculiar and fragrant scent--lay a small shaggy dog, whose
snowy whiteness of coat could only be due to the most constant care. Two
other dogs, like this one, lay stretched on the floor at the old lady's
feet, and seemed no less soundly asleep.

As the prefect came up, the architect pointed to this study of still-
life, and said in a whisper:

"If we had a painter here it would make a lovely little picture."

"Incomparable," answered Titianus, "only the vivid scarlet on the dame's
cheeks seems to me suspicious, considering the ample proportions of the
wine-jar at her elbow."

"But did you ever see a calmer, kindlier, or more contented countenance?"

"Baucis must have slept like that when Philemon allowed himself leave of
absence for once! or did that devoted spouse always remain at home?"