The attendant, a slave who had grown gray in the service of Timotheus,
now begged the young guest, as though he represented his mistress, to
take a little food, and not to sip so timidly from the winecup. But the
lonely repast was soon ended, and Melissa, strengthened and refreshed,
withdrew to the sleeping-apartment. Only light curtains hung at the
doors of the high-priest's hurriedly furnished rooms, and no one noticed
Melissa's entrance into the adjoining chamber.

She had never played the eavesdropper, but she had neither the presence
of mind to withdraw, nor could she avoid hearing that her own name was
mentioned.

It was the lady who spoke, and her husband answered in excited tones:

"As to your Christianity, and whatever there may be in it that is
offensive to me as high-priest of a heathen god, we will speak of that
later. It is not a question now of a difference of opinion, but of a
serious danger, which you with your easily-moved heart will bring down
upon yourself and me. The gem-cutter's daughter is a lovely creature--
I will not deny it--and worthy of your sympathy; besides which, you,
as a woman, can not bear to see her most sacred feelings wounded."

"And would you let your hands he idle in your lap," interposed his wife,
"if you saw a lovable, innocent child on the edge of a precipice, and
felt yourself strong enough to save her from falling? You can not have
asked yourself what would be the fate of a girl like Melissa if she were
Caracalla's wife."

"Indeed I have," Timotheus assured her gravely, "and nothing would please