"And who is this girl yonder?" asked Papias, pointing to Arsinoe,
as the two came up. "Nothing can be said against her beauty, but she is
dressed less than simply, and wears no kind of ornament worth speaking
of--it is a thousand to one against her parents being in a position to
provide her with such a rich dress, and such costly jewels as Roxana
certainly ought to display when about to be married to Alexander. The
Asiatic princess must appear in silk, gold and precious stones. Now my
friend here will be able so to dress his Praxilla that the splendor of
her attire might have astonished the great Macedonian himself, but who is
the father of that pretty child who is satisfied with the blue ribbon in
her hair, her two roses, and her little white frock?"

"Your reflections are just, Papias," interrupted the dealer, with dry
incisiveness. "The girl you are speaking of is quite out of the
question. I do not say so for my daughter's sake, but because everything
in bad taste is odious to me; it is hardly conceivable how such a young
thing could have had the audacity to force herself in here. A pretty
face, to be sure, opens locks and bars. She is--do not be too much
startled--she is nothing more than a work-girl in the papyrus factory of
our excellent host, Plutarch."

"That is not the truth," Pollux interrupted, indignantly, as he heard
this assertion.

"Moderate your tongue, young man," replied the dealer. "I can call you
to witness, noble Plutarch."

"Let her be whom she may," answered the old man, with annoyance. "She is
very one of my workwomen, but even if she had come straight here from the
gumming-table with such a face and such a figure, she is perfectly in