bustle in the street. Pontius did not notice it, but Arsinoe--for it was
her pretty face that looked out--at once recognized the architect whom
she had seen at Lochias and of whom Pollux had spoken as his friend and
patron.

She had now, for a week, been living with the rich widow; she wanted for
nothing, and yet her soul longed with all its might to be out in the
city, and to inquire for Pollux and his parents, of whom she had heard
nothing since the day of her father's death. Her lover was no doubt
seeking her with anxiety and sorrow; but how was he to find her?

Three days after her arrival she had discovered the little window from
which she had a view of the street. There was plenty to be seen, for it
led to the Hippodrome and was never empty of foot-passengers and chariots
that were proceeding thither or to Necropolis. No doubt it was a
pleasure to her to watch the fine horses and garlanded youths and men who
passed by Paulina's house; but it was not merely to amuse herself that
she went to the bowery little opening; no, she hoped, on the contrary,
that she might once see her Pollux, his father, his mother, his bother
Teuker or some one else they knew pass by her new home. Then she might
perhaps succeed in calling them, in asking what had become of her
friends, and
in begging them to let her lover know where to seek her.

Her adoptive mother had twice found her at the window and had forbidden
her, not unkindly but very positively, to look out into the street.
Arsinoe had followed her unresistingly into the interior of the house,
but as soon as she knew that Paulina was out or engaged, she slipped back
to the window again and looked out for him, who must at every hour of the
day be thinking of her. And she was not happy amid her new and wealthy