Here he hesitated, for, like a blow from an invisible hand, the thought darted through his mind that perhaps, on the morrow, he would see himself compelled before the whole world to cast aside the crown of fame which he owed to the statue on the lofty pedestal.  He did not have even the remotest idea of continuing to deck himself with false renown if his dread was realized; yet he doubtless imagined how this whole aristocratic circle, with the Queen, Althea, and Proclus at its head, would turn with reckless haste from the hapless man who had led them into such a shameful error.

Yet what mattered it, even if these miserable people considered themselves deceived and pointed the finger of scorn at him?  Better people would thereby be robbed of the right to accuse him of faithlessness to himself.  This thought darted through his heated brain like a flash of lightning, and when, in spite of his silence, the conversation was continued and Althea told the others that only Hermon’s blindness had prevented the creation of a work which could have been confidently expected far to surpass the Demeter, since it seemed to have been exactly suited to his special talent, he answered his beautiful companion’s remark curtly and absently.

She perceived this with annoyance and perplexity.

A woman who yearns for the regard of all men, and makes love a toy, easily lessens the demands she imposes upon individuals.  Only, even though love has wholly disappeared, she still claims consideration, and Althea did not wish to lose Hermon’s regard.

When Amyntas, the head of the conspirators, attracted the attention of the company by malicious remarks about the King’s sister, the Thracian laid her hand on the blind artist’s arm, whispering:  “Has the image of the Arachne which, at Tennis, charmed you even in the presence of the angry Zeus, completely vanished from your memory?  How indifferent you look!  But I tell you”—­her deep blue eyes flashed as she spoke—­“that so long as you were still a genuine creating artist the case was different.  Even while putting the last touches of the file to the Demeter, for which Archias’s devout daughter posed as your model, another whom you could not banish from your mind filled your imagination.  Though so loud a denial is written on your face, I persist in my conviction, and that no idle delusion ensnares me I can prove!”

Hermon raised his sightless eyes to her inquiringly, but she went on with eager positiveness:  “Or, if you did not think of the weaver while carving the goddess, how did you happen to engrave a spider on the ribbon twined around the ears of grain in Demeter’s hand?  Not the smallest detail of a work produced by the hand of a valued friend escapes my notice, and I perceived it before the Demeter came to the temple and the lofty pedestal.  Now I would scarcely be able to discover it in the dusky cella, yet at that time I took pleasure in the sight of the ugly