“Cakes this evening!” and she kissed the blind child’s eyes, and said: 

“You may come with me, dear little man.  I will find a litter for Selene and put you in, and you will be carried home like a little prince.”

The little blind boy threw his arms up with delight, exclaiming:  “Through the air, and without falling.”  While she was still holding him in her arms, her father came up the steps that led from the rotunda to the passage, his face streaming with heat and excitement; and after wiping his brow and panting to regain his breath, he said: 

“Hiram, the curiosity-dealer, met me just outside, with the sword that belonged to Antony; and you sold it to him for two thousand drachmae! you little fool!”

“But, father, you would have given the old spit for a pasty and a draught of wine,” laughed Arsinoe.

“I?” cried Keraunus.  “I would have had three times the sum for that venerable relic, for which Caesar will give its weight in silver; however, sold is sold.  And yet-and yet, the thought that I no longer possess the sword of Antony, will give me many sleepless nights.”

“If this evening we set you down to a good dish of meat, sleep will soon follow,” answered Arsinoe, and she took the handkerchief out of her father’s hand, and coaxingly wiped his temples, going on vivaciously:  “We are quite rich folks, father, and will show the other citizens’ daughters what we can do.”

“Now you shall both take part in the festival,” said Keraunus, decidedly.  “Caesar shall see that I shun no sacrifice in his honor, and if he notices you, and I bring my complaint against that insolent architect before him—­”

“You must let that pass,” begged Arsinoe, “if only poor Selene’s foot is well by that time.”

“Where is she?”

“Gone out.”

“Then her foot cannot be so very bad.  She will soon come in, it is to be hoped.”

“Probably—­I mean to fetch her with a litter.”

“A litter?” said Keraunus, in surprise.

“The two thousand drachmae have turned the girl’s head.”

“Only on account of her foot.  It was hurting her so much when she went out.”

“Then why did she not stay at home?  As usual she has wasted an hour to save a sesterce, and you, neither of you have any time to spare.”

“I will go after her at once.”

“No—­no, you at any rate, must remain here, for in two hours the matrons and maidens are to meet at the theatre.”

“In two hours! but mighty Serapis, what are we to put on?”

“It is your business to see to that,” replied Keraunus, “I myself will have the litter you spoke of, and be carried down to Tryphon, the ship-builder.  Is there any money left in Selene’s box?”

Arsinoe went into her sleeping-room, and said, as she returned: 

“This is all—­six pieces of two drachmae.”

“Four will be enough for me,” replied the steward, but after a moment’s reflection he took the whole half-dozen.