“You seem to be angry on account of my absence yesterday evening?” Hermon asked in an altered tone, clasping her hand; but Ledscha snatched it from him, exclaiming:  “The model of the Demeter, the daughter of the wealthy Archias, detained you, you were going to tell me, and you think that ought to satisfy the barbarian maiden.”

“Folly!” he answered angrily.  “I owe a debt of gratitude to her father, who was my guardian, and custom commands you also to honour a guest.  But your obstinacy and jealousy are unbearable.  What great thing is it that I ask of your love?  A little patience.  Practise it.  Then your turn will come too.”

“Of course, the second and third will follow the first,” she answered bitterly.  “After Gula, the sailor’s wife, you lured my innocent young sister, Taus, to this apartment; or am I mistaken in the order, and was Gula the second?”

“So that’s it!” cried Hermon, who was surprised rather than alarmed by this betrayal of his secret.  “If you want confirmation of the fact, very well—­both were here.”

“Because you deluded them with false vows of love.”

“By no means.  My heart has nothing what ever to do with these visits.  Gula came to thank me because I rendered her a service—­you know it—­which to every mother seems greater than it is.”

“But you certainly did not underestimate it,” Ledscha impetuously interrupted, “for you demanded her honour in return.”

“Guard your tongue!” the artist burst forth angrily.  “The woman visited me unasked, and I let her leave me as faithful or as unfaithful to her husband as she came.  If I used her as a model—­”

“Gula, whom the sculptor transforms into a goddess,” Ledscha interrupted, with a sneering laugh.

“Into a fish-seller, if you wish to know it,” cried Hermon indignantly.  “I saw in the market a young woman selling shad.  I took the subject, and found in Gula a suitable model.  Unfortunately, she ventured here far too seldom.  But I can finish it with the help of the sketch—­it stands in yonder cupboard.”

“A fish-seller,” Ledscha repeated contemptuously.  “And for what did my Taus, poor lovely child, seem desirable?”

“Over opposite,” Hermon answered quickly, as if he wished to get rid of a troublesome duty, pointing through the window out of doors, “the free maidens, during the hot days, took off their sandals and waded through the water.  There I saw your sister’s feet.  They were the prettiest of all, and Gula brought the young girl to me.  I had commenced in Alexandria a figure of a girl holding her foot in her hand to take out a thorn, so I used your sister’s for it.”

“And when my turn comes?” Ledscha demanded.

“Then,” he replied, freshly captivated by the magic of her beauty, in a kinder, almost tender tone, “then I will make of you, in gold and ivory, you wonderfully lovely creature, the counterpart of this goddess.”

“And you will need a long time for it?”