He was here interrupted, for Epagathos announced a deputation from the
Museum, and, at the same time, the painter Alexander, who had been
brought from prison. At this Caracalla exclaimed with disgust:

"Spare me the hair-splitting logicians!--Do you, Philostratus, receive
them in my name. If they make any impudent demands, you may tell them my
opinion of them and their Museum. Go, but come back quickly. Bring in
the painter. I will speak with him alone.--You, my friends, withdraw
with our idiologos, the priest of Alexander, who is well known here, and
visit the city. I shall not require you at present."

The whole troop hastened to obey. Caracalla now turned to Melissa once
more, and his eye brightened as he again discerned the dimple in her
cheeks, which had recovered their roses. Her imploring eyes met his,
and the happy expectation of seeing her brother lent them a light which
brought joy to the friendless sovereign. During his last speech he had
looked at her from time to time; but in the presence of so many strangers
she had avoided meeting his gaze. Now she thought that she might freely
show him that his favor was a happiness to her. Her soul, as Roxana,
must of course feel drawn to his; in that he firmly believed. Her prayer
and sacrifice for him sufficiently proved it--as he told himself once
more.

When Alexander was brought in, it did not anger him to see that the
brother, who held out his arms to Melissa in his habitual eager way, had
to be reminded by her of the imperial presence. Every homage was due to
this fair being, and he was, besides, much struck by Alexander's splendid
appearance. It was long since any youthful figure had so vividly
reminded him of the marble statues of the great Athenian masters.
Melissa's brother stood before him, the very embodiment of the ideal