The City of Delight

"Perchance she is right," he said instead. "What know we of this

paganized young Jew? He has been separated from his lady from

childhood. It is right easy to marry, once we fall into the way."

"No, no! Her claim is hopeless. She confesses it. But she maintains

the assumption, nevertheless."

"Absolutely? No little sign of lapse among thy handsome servants,

here?"

"I do not see her when she is with the servants," she said astutely.

"What will you do with her?" he asked.

"She is beautiful, unique, and so eligible to my collection of arts

and artists under this roof. She shall stay till fate shows its hand

for all of us."

"You have housed Discord under your roof, then," he said. "Laodice,

the wife to this Philadelphus, will not be a happy woman; and I--I

shall not be a happy man. Let me return favor for your favor to me. I

will take her away."

She laughed, though it seemed that a hard note had entered her voice.

"You will permit me, then, to surmise for myself why you came to

Jerusalem. You seem to have known this girl before. I shall not ask

you; in return for that promise that I may conclude what I will."

"If you are too discerning, lady," he answered, while his eyes sought

down the corridor for a glimpse of the one he had come to see, "you

are dangerous."

"And what then?"

"I must devise a way to silence you."

She lifted her brows. In that very speech was the portrait of the

Maccabee that she had come to love through letters.

"There is something familiar in your mood," she said thoughtfully. "It

seems that I have known you--for many years."

He made no answer. He had said all that he wished to say to this

woman. She noted his silence and rose.

"I shall send the girl to you."

"Thou art good," he answered and she withdrew.

A moment later Laodice came into the chamber. She was not startled. In

her innocent soul she did not realize that this was a sign of the

depth of her love for him. He rose and met her half-way across the

hall; took her hand and held it while they walked back to the exedra,

and gazed at her face for evidence that her sojourn in this house had

been unhappy or otherwise; noted that she had let down her hair and

braided it; observed every infinitesimal change that can attract only

the lover's eye.

"Sit," he said, giving her a place beside him. "I came of habit to see

you. Of habit, I was interrupted. Is there no way that I can talk to

you without the resentment of some one who flourishes a better right

to be with you than I can show?"