“What do you want with the ship-builder?” asked Arsinoe.

“In the Council,” replied Keraunus, “I was worried again about you girls.  I said one of my daughters was ill, and the other must attend upon her; but this would not do, and I was asked to send the one who was well.  Then I explained that you had no mother, that we lived a retired life for each other, and that I could not bear the idea of sending my daughter alone, and without any protectress to the meeting.  So then Tryphon said that it would give his wife pleasure to take you to the theatre with her own daughter.  This I half accepted, but I declared at once that you would not go, if your elder sister were not better.  I could not give any positive consent—­you know why.”

“Oh, blessings on Antony and his noble spit!” cried Arsinoe.  “Now everything is settled, and you can tell the ship-builder we shall go.  Our white dresses are still quite good, but a few ells of new light blue ribbon for my hair, and of red for Selene’s, you must buy on the way, at Abibaal, the Phoenician’s.”

“Very good.”

“I will see at once to both the dresses—­but, to be sure, when are we to be ready?”

“In two hours.”

“Then, do you know what, dear old father?”

“Well?”

“Our old woman is half blind, and does everything wrong.  Do let me go down to dame Doris at the gate-house, and ask her to help me.  She is so clever and kind, and no one irons so well as she does.”

“Silence!” cried the steward, angrily, interrupting his daughter.  “Those people shall never again cross my threshold.”

“But look at my hair; only look at the state it is in,” cried Arsinoe, excitedly, and thrusting her fingers into her thick tresses which she pulled into disorder.  “To do that up again, plait it with new ribbons, iron our dresses, and sew on the brooches—­why the Empress’ ladies-maid could not do all that in two hours.”

“Doris shall never cross this threshold,” repeated Keraunus, for all his answer.

“Then tell the tailor Hippias to send me an assistant; but that will cost money.”

“We have it, and can pay,” replied Keraunus, proudly, and in order not to forget his commissions he muttered to himself while he went to get a litter: 

“Hippias the tailor, blue ribbon, red ribbon, and Tryphon the ship-builder.”

The tailor’s nimble apprentice helped Arsinoe to arrange her dress and Selene’s, and was never weary of praising the sheen and silkiness of Arsinoe’s hair, while she twisted it with ribbons, built it up and twisted it at the back so gracefully with a comb, that it fell in a thick mass of artfully-curled locks down her neck and back.  When Keraunus came back, he gazed with justifiable pride at his beautiful child; he was immensely pleased, and even chuckled softly to himself as he laid out the gold pieces which were brought to him by the curiosity-dealer’s servant, and set them in a row and counted them.  While he was thus occupied, Arsinoe went up to him and asked laughing:  “Hiram has not cheated me then?” Keraunus desired her not to disturb him, and added: