darkness, and Melissa clasped her hands over her face. She felt as
though this were her last parting from her lover, and the sun would never
shine on earth again.

It was now near midnight. The slaves had heard the approach of the
chariot, and received them as heartily as ever, but in obedience to
Heron's orders they added the most respectful bows to their usual well-
meant welcome. Since their master had shown himself to Dido, in the
afternoon, with braggart dignity, as a Roman magnate, she had felt as
though the age of miracles had come, and nothing was impossible.
Splendid visions of future grandeur awaiting the whole family, including
herself and Argutis, had not ceased to haunt her; but as to the empress,
something seemed to have gone wrong, for why had the girl wet eyes and so
sad a face? What was all this long whispering with Argutis? But it was
no concern of hers, after all, and she would know all in good time, no
doubt. "What the masters plot to-day the slaves hear next week," was a
favorite saying of the Gauls, and she had often proved its truth.

But the cool way in which Melissa received the felicitations which the
old woman poured out in honor of the future empress, and her tear-
reddened eyes, seemed at any rate quite comprehensible. The child was
thinking, no doubt, of her handsome Diodoros. Among the splendors of the
palace she would soon forget. And how truly magnificent were the dress
and jewels in which the damsel had appeared in the amphitheatre!

"How they must have hailed her!" thought the old woman when she had
helped Melissa to exchange her dress for a simpler robe, and the girl sat
down to write. "If only the mistress had lived to see this day! And all
the other women must have been bursting with envy. Eternal gods! But,
after all, who knows whether the good luck we envy others is great