“I am sure of it; and you have chosen the right mate,” cried the old woman.  “You are a sculptor and used to simple things; you need no riches, only a sweet face which may every day rejoice your heart, and that you have found.”

“There is nowhere a sweeter or a lovelier,” said Pollux.

“No, that there is not,” continued Doris.  “First I cast my eyes on Selene.  She need not be ashamed to show herself either, and she is a pattern for girls; but then as Arsinoe grew older, whenever she passed this way I thought to myself:  ‘that girl is growing up for my boy,’ and now that you have won her I feel as if I were once more as young as your sweetheart herself.  My old heart beats as happily as if the little Loves were touching it with their wings and rosy fingers.  If my feet had not grown so heavy with constantly standing over the hearth and at washing—­ really and truly I could take Euphorion by the arm and dance through the streets with him to-day.”

“Where is father?”

“Out singing.”

“In the morning! where?”

“There is some sect that are celebrating their mysteries.  They pay well and he had to sing dismal hymns for them behind a curtain; the wildest stuff, in which he does not follow a word, and that I do not understand a half of.”

“It is a pity for I wanted to speak to him.”

“He will not be back till late.”

“There is plenty of time.”

“So much the better, otherwise I might have told him what you had to say.”

“Your advice is as good as his.  I think of giving up working under Papias and standing on my own feet.”

“You are quite right; the Roman architect told me yesterday that a great future was open to you.”

“There are only my poor sister and the children to be considered.  If, during the first few months I should find myself falling short—­”

“We will manage to pull through.  It is high time that you yourself should reap from what you sow.”

“So it seems to me, for my own sake and Arsinoe’s; if only Keraunus—­”

“Aye—­there will be a battle to fight with him.”

“A hard one, a hard one,” sighed Pollux.

“The thought of the old man troubles my happiness.”

“Folly!” cried Doris.  “Avoid all useless anxiety.  It is almost as injurious as remorse gnawing at your heart.  Take a workshop of your own, do some great work in a joyful spirit, something to astonish the world, and I will wager anything that the old fool of a steward will only be vexed to think that he destroyed the first work of the celebrated Pollux, instead of treasuring it in his cabinet of curiosities.  Just imagine that no such person exists in the world and enjoy your happiness.”

“I will stick to that.”

“One thing more my lad:  take good care of Arsinoe.  She is young and inexperienced and you must not persuade her to do anything you would advise her not to do if she were betrothed to your brother instead of to yourself.”