Selene shrugged her shoulders, and her sister jumped up from her seat
with her eyes full of tears. She had been so happy in telling how happy
she was that she firmly believed that her story must bring brightness
into the gloom of the sick girl's soul, like sunshine after a dark night;
and Selene had nothing to give her but scornful words and looks. If a
friend refuses to share in joys it is hardly less wounding than if he
were to abandon us in trouble.

"How you always contrive to embitter my happiness!" cried Arsinoe. "I
know very well that nothing that I can do can ever be right in your eyes;
still, we are sisters, and you need not set your teeth and grudge your
words, and shrug your shoulders when I tell you of things which, even a
stranger, if I were to confide them to her, would rejoice over with me.
You are so cold and heartless! I dare say you will betray me to my
father--"

But Arsinoe did not finish her sentence, for Selene looked up at her with
a mixture of suffering and alarm, and said:

"I cannot be glad--I am in too much pain." As she spoke the tears ran
down her cheeks and as soon as Arsinoe saw them she felt a return of pity
for the sick girl, bent over and kissed her cheeks once, twice, thrice;
but Selene pushed her aside and murmured piteously:

"Leave me--pray leave me; go away, I can bear it no longer." She turned
her face to the wall, sobbing aloud. Arsinoe attempted once more to show
her some marks of affection, but her sister pushed her away still more
decidedly, crying out loudly, as if in desperation: "I shall die if you
do not leave me alone."