The couch rested on two sphinxes of gold and ivory, over which the
purple drapery fell in rich and massive folds. In one corner, a pedestal
of Egyptian marble supported an alabaster vase, on the edge of which
were two doves, exquisitely carved, one just raising his head, the other
stooping to drink. On a similar stand, at the other side, stood a
peacock, glittering with many coloured gems. The head lowered upon the
breast formed the handle; while here and there, among the brilliant tail
feathers, appeared a languid flame slowly burning away the perfumed oil,
with which the bird was filled.

Eudora clapped her hands, with an exclamation of delight. "That is the
present of which I spoke," said Aspasia, smiling: "It was sent by
Artaphernes, the Persian, who has lately come to Athens to buy pictures
and statues for the great king."

As Philothea turned towards her companion, she met Aspasia's earnest
gaze. "Had you forgotten where you were?" she asked.

"No, lady, I could not forget that," replied the maiden. As she spoke,
she hastily withdrew her eyes from an immodest picture, on which they
had accidentally rested; and, blushing deeply, she added, "But there is
something so life-like in that slumbering marble, that for a moment I
almost feared Eudora would waken it."

"You will not look upon the picture," rejoined Aspasia; "yet it relates
a story of one of the gods you reverence so highly. I am told you are a
devout believer in these fables?"

"When fiction is the robe of truth, I worship it for what it covers,"
replied Philothea; "but I love not the degrading fables which poets have