The following morning, there was a rap at the door of the chamber to

which Laodice had been led and informed that it was her own.

She had passed a sleepless night and had risen early, but the knock

came late in the morning.

She opened the door.

Without stood a ten year old girl, of the most bewitching beauty, as

barely clad as ever the children of her blood went over the green

meadows of Achaia. Her golden hair was knotted on the back of her

pretty head and held in place by an ampyx. On her feet were tiny

sheepskin buskins; about her perfect little body, worn carelessly, was

a simple chiton, out of which her dimpled shoulders and small round

arms showed pink and tender as field-flowers. Nothing could have been

more composed than her gaze at Laodice.

"We breakfast in the hall, now. You are to join us," she said.

Laodice stepped, out of the chamber into the court and followed her

little guide.

"The mistress and her guests rise late," the child went on. "That

perforce starves the rest of us until mid-morning. Eheu! It is the one

injustice in this house."

Laodice dumbly wondered if she were to be classed with the house

servants while she waited until the return of her devoted old mute.

She was led into a long narrow room, showing the same simple elegance

that marked all the house of Amaryllis, the Greek. Down the center

were two tables, separated by a cluster of tall plants that almost

screened one from the other.

At the first table place was laid for one. At the other, she found by

the talk and laughter the rest of the company were gathered. The

little girl led Laodice to the single place, seated her, and kissing

her hand to her with an almost too-practised bow, fled around the

cluster of tall plants. There she heard her childish voice imperiously

ordering a servant to attend the mistress' latest guest.

Prisca appeared and silently served Laodice with melon, honey-cakes

and milk. Other of the house-servants were visible from time to time.

This, then, manifestly was not the breakfast of the menials. She

glanced toward the cluster of tall plants. Through an interstice she

was able to see all the persons seated at the other table.

There first was the blue-eyed, golden-haired girl. Beside her was a

youth, slim, dark, exquisitely fashioned, with limbs and arms as

strong as were ever displayed in the games, yet powerful without

brutality, graceful without weakness--marks of the ideal athlete that

had long since disappeared with the coming of the Roman gladiator.

Opposite was a grown man, tall, broad and deep chested, with prominent

eyes wide apart and a large mouth. There was a singleness of attitude

in him, as in all persons reared to a purpose. It was that certain

self-centeredness which is not egotism, yet a subconsciousness of self

in all acts. He was the finished product of a specific, life-long

training, and the confidence in his atmosphere was the confidence of

one aware of his skill and prepared at all times.




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