Philostratus was, in fact, quite easy.  Just before, Caracalla’s helpless glance had met his sympathizing gaze, and the suffering Caesar had said nothing to him but: 

“O Philostratus, I am in such pain!” and these words still rang in the ears of this warm-hearted man.

While he was endeavoring to comfort the emperor, Caesar’s eyes had fallen on the gem, and he asked to see it.  He gazed at it attentively for some time, and when he returned it to the philosopher he had ordered him to fetch the prototype of Roxana.

Closely enveloped in the veil which Euryale had placed on her head, Melissa passed from room to room, keeping near to the philosopher.

Wherever she appeared she heard murmuring and whispering that troubled her, and tittering followed her from several of the rooms as she left them; even from the large hall where the emperor’s friends awaited his orders in numbers, she heard a loud laugh that frightened and annoyed her.

She no longer felt as unconstrained as she had been that morning when she had come before Caesar.  She knew that she would have to be on her guard; that anything, even the worst, might be expected from him.  But as Philostratus described to her, on the way, how terribly the unfortunate man suffered, her tender heart was again drawn to him, to whom—­as she now felt—­she was bound by an indefinable tie.  She, if any one, as she repeated to herself, was able to help him; and her desire to put the truth of this conviction to the proof—­for she could only regard it as too amazing to be grounded in fact—­was seconded by the less disinterested hope that, while attending on the sufferer, she might find an opportunity of effecting the release of her father and brother.

Philostratus went on to announce her arrival, and she, while waiting, tried to pray to the manes of her mother; but, before she could sufficiently collect her thoughts, the door opened.  Philostratus silently beckoned to her, and she stepped into the tablinum, which was but dimly lighted by a few lamps.

Caracalla was still resting here; for every movement increased the pain that tormented him.

How quiet it was!  She thought she could hear her own heart beating.

Philostratus remained standing by the door, but she went on tiptoe toward the couch, fearing her light footsteps might disturb the emperor.  Yet before she had reached the divan she stopped still, and then she heard the plaintive rattle in the sufferer’s throat, and from the background of the room the easy breathing of the burly physician and of old Adventus, both of whom had fallen asleep; and then a peculiar tapping.  The lion beat the floor with his tail with pleasure at recognizing her.

This noise attracted the invalid’s attention, and when he opened his closed eyes and saw Melissa, who was anxiously watching all his movements, he called to her lightly with his hand on his brow: