frame but ill-suited so modest a figure. Thousands of good people who in
the midst of their everyday surroundings command our esteem and attract
our regard give rise to very different feelings when they are taken out
of the circle to which they belong.

Doris had never worn so unpleasing an aspect to Hadrian as at this
instant, in this decisive moment of her life. She had followed the
Empress straight from the kitchen-hearth just as she was after passing a
sleepless night and full of her many anxieties, she had scarcely set her
grey hair in order, and her kind bright eyes, usually the best feature of
her face, were red with many tears. The neat brisk little mother looked
to-day anything rather than smart and bright; in the Emperor's eyes she
was in no way distinguished from any other old woman, and he regarded all
old women as of evil omen, if he met them as he went out of any place he
was in.

"Oh, Caesar, Great Caesar!" cried Doris throwing up her hands which
still bore many traces of her labors over the hearth. "My son, my
unfortunate Pollux!"

"Out of my way!" said Hadrian sternly.

"He is an artist, a good artist, who already excels many a master, and if
the gods--"

"Out of the way, I told you. I do not want to hear anything about the
insolent fellow," said Hadrian angrily.

"But Great Caesar, he is my son, and a mother, as you know--"