"For me," shouted the steward, and without fastening his shoe-straps
round his ankles, so that they flapped and pattered on the ground, he
hurried off into the children's room. There sat his darling blind child,
his 'neir' as he liked to call him, with his pretty, fair, curly head
resting on Arsinoe's breast. The child recognized his step, and began
his little lament:

"Selene was away, and I was frightened, and I feel so sick, so sick."

The steward laid his hand on the child's forehead, and feeling how hot it
was he began to walk restlessly up and down by the little bed.

"That is just how it always happens," he said. "When one misfortune
comes another always follows. Look at him Arsinoe. Do you remember how
the fever took poor Berenice? Sickness, uneasiness, and a burning head.
--"Have you any pain in your head my boy?"

"No," answered Helios, "but I feel so sick."

The steward opened the child's little shirt to see if he had any spots on
his breast, but Arsinoe said, as she bent over him:

"It is nothing much, he has only overloaded his stomach. The stupid old
woman gives him every thing he asks for, and she let him have half of the
currant cake, which we sent her to fetch before we went out."

"But his head is burning," repeated Keraunus.

"He will be quite well again by to-morrow morning," replied Arsinoe.