“Then certainly,” interrupted Plutarch, “the cup, the gift of Trajan, must be worth double, particularly to me who am related to the illustrious owner.  May I offer you four thousand drachmae for your precious possession?”

“I am anxious to oblige you, and so I say yes,” replied the steward with much dignity, and he squeezed Arsinoe’s little finger, for she was standing close to him.  Her hand had for some time been touching his in token of warning that he should adhere to his first intention of making the cup a present to Plutarch.

As the pair, so unlike each other, quitted the anteroom, Plutarch looked after them with a meaning smile and thought to himself:  “That is well done.  How little pleasure I generally have from my riches!  How often when I see a sturdy porter I would willingly change places with him!  But to-day I am glad to have as much money as I could wish.  Sweet child!  She must have a new dress of course for the sake of appearance, but really her beauty did not suffer from the washed-out rag of a dress.  And she belongs to me, for I have seen her at the factory among the workwomen, of that I am certain.”

Keraunus had gone out with his daughter and once outside the prefect’s house, he could not help chuckling aloud, while he patted his daughter on the shoulder, and whispered to her: 

“I told you so child! we shall be rich yet, we shall rise in life again and need not be behind the other citizens in any thing.”

“Yes, father, but it is just because you believe that, that you ought to have given the cup to the old man.”

“No,” replied Keraunus, “business is business, but by and bye I will repay him tenfold for all he does for you now, by giving him my painting by Apelles.  And Julia shall have the pair of sandal-straps set with cut-gems that came off a sandal of Cleopatra’s.”

Arsinoe looked down, for she knew what these treasures were worth, and said: 

“We can consider all that later.”

Then she and her father got into the litters that had been waiting for them, and without which Keraunus thought he could no longer exist, and they were carried to the garden of Pudeus’ widow.

Their visit came to interrupt Selene’s blissful dreams.  Keraunus behaved with icy coldness to dame Hannah, for it afforded him a certain satisfaction to make a display of contempt for every thing Christian.  When he expressed his regret that Selene should have been obliged to remain in her house, the widow replied: 

“She is better here than in the street, at any rate.”  And when Keraunus went on to say that he would take nothing as a gift and would pay her for her care of his daughter, Hannah answered: 

“We are happy to do all we can for your child, and Another will reward us.”

“That I certainly forbid,” exclaimed the steward wrathfully.

“We do not understand each other,” said the Christian pleasantly.  “I do not allude to any mortal being, and the reward we work for is not gold and possessions, but the happy consciousness of having mitigated the sufferings of a fellow-creature.”