forgiveness for his son. Soon after breakfast Pollux went up to the
rotunda where the Queens' busts stood, hoping to see Arsinoe again, and
a loud snatch of song soon brought her out on to the balcony. They
exchanged greetings, and Pollux signed to her to come down to him. She
would have obeyed him more than gladly, but her father had also heard the
sculptor's voice and drove her back into the room. Still the mere sight
of his beloved fair one had done the artist good. Hardly had he got back
to his father's little house when Antinous came sauntering in--he
represented in the artist's mind the hospitable shores on which he might
gaze. Hope revived his soul, and Hope is the sun before which despair
flies as the shades of night flee at the rising of the day-star.

His artistic faculties were once more roused into play, and found a field
for their freest exercise when Antinous told him that he was at his
disposal till mid-day, since his master--or rather Caesar as he was now
permitted to name him--was engaged in business. The prefect Titianus had
come to him with a whole heap of papers, to work with him and his private
secretary. Pollux at once led the favorite into a side room of the
little house, with a northern aspect; here on a table lay the wax and the
smaller implements which belonged to himself and which he had brought
home last evening. His heart ached, and his nerves were in a painful
state of tension as he began his work. All sorts of anxious thoughts
disturbed his spirit, and yet he knew that if he put his whole soul into
it he could do something good. Now, if ever, he must put forth his best
powers, and he dreaded failure as an utter catastrophe, for on the face
of the whole earth there was no second model to compare with this that
stood before him.

But he did not take long to collect himself for the Bithynian's beauty
filled him with profound feeling and it was with a sort of pious