to you and help you. And I shall come again to-morrow and do some
work for you--that is to say, if you approve of what I have already
done, and then Iris will be able to go out and sell the figures."

He hastened away before they were able to thank him, and he left
them wondering who this new friend could be. They talked of him
for a long time, of his kindness and his skill; and Aristeus dreamt
that night about the stranger who had come to work for him.

The next day Phidias came again, and took his place at the
image-maker's bench, just as if he were always accustomed to sit
there. Aristeus, who was better, watched him curiously, but asked
no questions.

But Iris said to him: "My father and I talk of you, and wonder who
you are."

Phidias laughed.

"Perhaps I shall tell you some day," he answered. "There, child,
what do you think of that little vase? When it is baked it will be
a pretty thing."

As the days went on, the image-maker recovered his strength; and
meanwhile Phidias had filled the little shop with dainty-wrought
images and graceful vases, such as had never been seen there before.

One evening, when Aristeus was leaning against Iris, and admiring
the stranger's work, the door opened and Phidias came in.