thoughts, he seated himself moodily by Cleonice, and remained silent.

The Byzantine stole an arch glance at the Spartan, as he thus sat,
from the corner of her eyes, and said, after a pause--

"You Spartans ought to speak the truth more than other people, for you
say much less. We too have our proverb at Byzantium, and one which
implies that it requires some wit to tell fibs."

"Child, child!" exclaimed Diagoras, holding up his hand reprovingly,
and directing a terrified look at the Spartan. To his great relief,
Pausanias smiled, and replied--

"Fair maiden, we Dorians are said to have a wit peculiar to ourselves,
but I confess that it is of a nature that is but little attractive to
your sex. The Athenians are blander wooers."

"Do you ever attempt to woo in Lacedaemon, then? Ah, but the maidens
there, perhaps, are not difficult to please."

"The girl puts me in a cold sweat!" muttered Diagoras, wiping his
brow. And this time Pausanias did not smile; he coloured, and answered
gravely--

"And is it, then, a vain hope for a Spartan to please a Byzantine?"

"You puzzle me. That is an enigma; put it to the oracle."

The Spartan raised his eyes towards Cleonice, and, as she saw the
inquiring, perplexed look that his features assumed, the ruby lips