AND THE BLIND SLAVE. 37 



haps, t shall be — thy chamber shall be prepared next my own. 

 Nydia, I have no sister — wilt thou be one to me V^ 



The Thessalian kissed the hand of lone, and then said, with 

 some embarrassment, 



" One favour, fair lone — may I dare to ask it ?" 



" Th^u canst not ask what I will not grant," replied the 

 Neapolitan. 



" They tell me,*' said Nydia, " that you are beautiful beyond 

 the loveliness of earth. Alas ! I cannot see that which gladdens 

 the world ! Wilt thou suffer me then to pass my hand over thy 

 face — that is my sole criterion of beauty, and I usually guess 

 aright ?" 



She did not wait for the answer of lone, but, as she spoke, 

 gently and slowly passed her hand over the bending and half 

 averted features of the Greek — features which but one image in 

 the world can yet depicture and recall — that image is the^ muti- 

 lated, but all wondrous, statue in her native city — her own 

 Neapolis ; — that Parian face, before which all the beauty of the 

 Florentine Venus is poor and earthly — that aspect so full of har- 

 mony — of youth— of genius — of the soul — which modern specu- 

 lators have supposed the representation of Psyche. 



Her touch lingered over the braided hair and polished brow — 

 over the downy and damask cheek — over the dimpled lip — the 

 swan-like and whitest neck. " I know, now, that thou art beau- 

 tiful," she said, " and I can picture thee to my darkness henceforth, 

 and for ever ! " 



When Nydia left her, lone sank into a deep but delicious 

 reverie. Glaucus then loved her; he owned it, yes, he loved 

 her. She drew forth again that dear confession ; she paused 

 over every word, she kissed every line; she did not ask why he 

 had been maligned, she only felt assured that he had been so. She 

 wondered how she had ever believed a syllable against him ; 

 she wondered how the Egyptian had been enabled ' to exercise a 

 power against Glaucus : she felt a chill creep over her as she 

 again turned to his warning against Arbaces, and her secret fear 

 of that gloomy being darkened into awe. She was awakened 

 from these thoughts by her maidens, who came to announce to 

 her that the hour appointed to visit Arbaces was arrived : she 

 started, she had forgotten the promise. Iler first impression was 

 to renounce it; her second, was to laugh at her own fears of her^ 

 eldest surviving friend. She hastened to add the usual ornaments 

 to her dress, and doubtful whether she should yet question tlie 



