"This must be Olympus," said Daphne.

"Any mountain is Olympus that touches the sky," answered Apollo.

"Where are the others?" demanded the girl. "Am I not to know
your divine friends?"

"Don't you see them?" he asked as in surprise,--"Aphrodite just
yonder in violet robe, and Juno, and Hermes with winged feet"--

"I am afraid I am a wee bit blind, being but mortal," answered
Daphne. "I can see nothing but you."

Beside them on the rock, spread out on oak leaves, lay clusters
of purple grapes, six black ripe olives, and a little pile of
biscotti Inglesi. The girl bent and poured from the curving
flask red wine that bubbled in the glass, then gave it to her
companion, saying: "Quick, before Hebe gets here," and the sound
of their merriment rung down the hillside.

"Hark!" whispered Daphne. "I hear an echo of the unquenchable
laughter of the gods! They cannot be far away."

From another stone near at hand Bertuccio watched them with eyes
that feigned not to see. Bertuccio did not understand English,
but he understood everything else. Goodly shares of the nectar
and ambrosia of this feast had fallen to his lot, and Bertuccio
in his own way was almost as happy as the lovers. In the soft
grass near San Pietro Martire nibbled peacefully, now and then
lifting his eyes to see what was going on. Once he brayed. He