Love is a plant which springs up for many who have never sown it, and
grows into a spreading tree for many who have neither fostered nor tended
it. How little had Keraunus ever done to win the heart of his daughter,
how much on the contrary which could not fail to overshadow and trouble
her young life. And yet Selene, whose youth--for she was but nineteen--
needed repose and to whom the evening with the reprieve of sleep brought
more pleasure than the morning with its load of cares and labor, sat by
the three-branched lamp and watched, and tormented herself more and more
as it grew later and later, at her father's long absence. About a week
before the strong man had suddenly lost consciousness; only, it is true,
for a few minutes, and the physician had told her that though he appeared
to be in superabundant health, the attack indicated that he must follow
his prescriptions strictly and avoid all kinds of excess. A single
indiscretion, he had declared, might swiftly and suddenly cut the thread
of his existence. After her father had gone out in obedience to the
architect's invitation, Selene had brought out her youngest brothers' and
sisters' garments, in order to mend them. Her sister Arsinoe, who was
her junior by two years, and whose fingers were as nimble as her own,
might indeed have helped her, but she had gone to bed early and was
sleeping by the children who could not be left untended at night. Her
female slave, who had been in her grandmother's service, ought to have
assisted her; but the old half-blind negress saw even worse by lamp-light
than by daylight, and after a few stitches could do no more. Selene sent
her to bed and sat down alone to her work.

For the first hour she sewed away without looking up, considering,
meanwhile, how she could best contrive to support the family till the end
of the month on the few drachmae she could dispose of. As it got later
she grew wearier and wearier, but still she sat at the work, though her
pretty head often sank upon her breast. She must await her father's