’Did I not tell thee that thou shouldst be my sister and friend?  Hast thou not already been more?—­my guardian, my preserver!’

‘It is nothing,’ answered Nydia coldly, and without stirring.

‘Ah!  I forgot,’ continued Ione, ‘I should come to thee’; and she moved along the benches till she reached the place where Nydia sat, and flinging her arms caressingly round her, covered her cheeks with kisses.

Nydia was that morning paler than her wont, and her countenance grew even more wan and colorless as she submitted to the embrace of the beautiful Neapolitan.  ‘But how camest thou, Nydia,’ whispered Ione, ’to surmise so faithfully the danger I was exposed to?  Didst thou know aught of the Egyptian?’

‘Yes, I knew of his vices.’

‘And how?’

’Noble Ione, I have been a slave to the vicious—­those whom I served were his minions.’

’And thou hast entered his house since thou knewest so well that private entrance?’

‘I have played on my lyre to Arbaces,’ answered the Thessalian, with embarrassment.

‘And thou hast escaped the contagion from which thou hast saved Ione?’ returned the Neapolitan, in a voice too low for the ear of Glaucus.

’Noble Ione, I have neither beauty nor station; I am a child, and a slave, and blind.  The despicable are ever safe.’

It was with a pained, and proud, and indignant tone that Nydia made this humble reply; and Ione felt that she only wounded Nydia by pursuing the subject.  She remained silent, and the bark now floated into the sea.

‘Confess that I was right, Ione,’ said Glaucus, ’in prevailing on thee not to waste this beautiful noon in thy chamber—­confess that I was right.’

‘Thou wert right, Glaucus,’ said Nydia, abruptly.

‘The dear child speaks for thee,’ returned the Athenian.  ’But permit me to move opposite to thee, or our light boat will be over-balanced.’

So saying, he took his seat exactly opposite to Ione, and leaning forward, he fancied that it was her breath, and not the winds of summer, that flung fragrance over the sea.

‘Thou wert to tell me,’ said Glaucus, ’why for so many days thy door was closed to me?’

‘Oh, think of it no more!’ answered Ione, quickly; ’I gave my ear to what I now know was the malice of slander.’

‘And my slanderer was the Egyptian?’

Ione’s silence assented to the question.

‘His motives are sufficiently obvious.’

‘Talk not of him,’ said Ione, covering her face with her hands, as if to shut out his very thought.

‘Perhaps he may be already by the banks of the slow Styx,’ resumed Glaucus; ’yet in that case we should probably have heard of his death.  Thy brother, methinks, hath felt the dark influence of his gloomy soul.  When we arrived last night at thy house he left me abruptly.  Will he ever vouchsafe to be my friend?’

‘He is consumed with some secret care,’ answered Ione, tearfully.  ’Would that we could lure him from himself!  Let us join in that tender office.’