"Nay, Caesar," interrupted the philosopher, "love is not a disease, but
rather not loving."

"Prove this new assertion," laughed the emperor; and the philosopher
rejoined, with a meaning look at the maiden, "If love is born in the
eyes, then those who do not love are blind."

"But," answered Caracalla, gayly, "they say that love comes not only from
what delights the eye, but the soul and the mind as well."

"And have not the mind and the spirit eyes also?" was the reply, to which
the emperor heartily assented.

Then he turned to Melissa, and asked with gentle reproach why she, who
had proved herself so ready of wit yesterday, should be so reserved
today; but she excused her taciturnity on the score of the violent
emotions that had stormed in upon her since the morning.

Her voice broke at the end of this explanation, and Caracalla, concluding
that it was the thought of the grandeur that awaited her through his
favor which confused her and brought the delicate color to her cheeks,
seized her hand, and, obedient to an impulse of his better nature, said:

"I understand you, child. Things are befalling you that would make a
stouter heart tremble. You have only heard hints of what must effect
such a decisive change in your future life. You know how I feel toward
you. I acknowledged to you yesterday what you already knew without
words. We both feel the mysterious power that draws us to one another.
We belong to each other. In the future, neither time nor space nor any
other thing may part us. Where I am there you must be also. You shall