"Is his Demeter a complete failure?" asked Daphne anxiously.

"Certainly not," replied Myrtilus eagerly.

"The head is even one of his very best. Only the figure awakens grave
doubts. In the effort to be faithful to reality, the fear of making
concessions to beauty, he lapsed into ungraceful angularity and a
sturdiness which, in my opinion, would be unpleasing even in a mortal
woman. The excess of unbridled power again makes it self visible in the
wonderfully gifted man. Many things reached him too late, and others too
soon."

Daphne eagerly asked what he meant by these words, and Myrtilus replied:
"Surely you know how he became a sculptor. Your father had intended him
to be his successor in business, but Hermon felt the vocation to become
an artist--probably first in my studio--awake with intense force. While
I early placed myself under the instruction of the great Bryaxis, he was
being trained for a merchant's life. When he was to guide the reed in
the countinghouse, he sketched; when he was sent to the harbour to direct
the loading of the ships, he became absorbed in gazing at the statues
placed there. In the warehouse he secretly modelled, instead of
attending to the bales of goods. You are certainly aware what a sad
breach occurred then, and how long Hermon was restrained before he
succeeded in turning his back upon trade."

"My father meant so kindly toward him," Daphne protested. "He was
appointed guardian to you both. You are rich, and therefore he aided in
every possible way your taste for art; but Hermon did not inherit from
his parents a single drachm, and so my father saw the most serious
struggles awaiting him if he devoted himself to sculpture. And, besides,