resorted to such arts, refused to permit it. The slave assured her,
however, as earnestly as if it were a matter of the highest importance,
that it was impossible to arrange the curls of a lady of distinction
without the irons. Euryale, too, begged Melissa to allow it, as nothing
would make her so conspicuous in her overdressed surroundings as
excessive simplicity. That was quite true, but it made the girl realize
so vividly what was before her, that she covered her face with her hands
and sobbed out:

"To be exposed to the gaze of the whole city--to its envy and its scorn!"

The matron's warning inquiry, what had become of her favorite's high-
minded calm, and her advice to restrain her weeping, lest she should
appear before the public in the Amphitheater with tear-stained eyes,
helped her to compose herself.

The tire-woman had not finished her work when Alexander returned, and
Melissa dared not turn her head for fear of disturbing her in her task.
But when Alexander began his report with the exclamation, "Who knows what
foolish gossip has driven him to this?" she sprang up, regardless of the
slave's warning cry. And as her brother went on to relate how Diodoros
had left the Serapeum, in spite of the physician's entreaty to wait at
least until next morning, but that Melissa need not take it greatly to
heart, it was too much for the girl who had already that day gone through
such severe and varied experiences. The ground seemed to heave beneath
her feet; sick and giddy she put out her hand to find some support, that
she might not sink on her knees; in so doing, she caught the tall tripod
which held the dish of coals. It swayed and fell clattering to
the ground, bringing the irons with it. Its burning contents fell partly
on the floor and partly on the festal robe which Melissa had thrown over