"Yes," said Selene gloomily. "How could the gods decree it! They are
often more cruel than the hardest hearted man."

"Your poor little brothers and sisters!"

The girl bowed her head sadly and Pollux stood for some time with his
eyes fixed on the ground. Then he raised his head and exclaimed:

"I have something for you that will please you."

"Nothing ever pleases me now she is dead."

"Yes, yes indeed," replied the young sculptor eagerly. "I could not
forget the good soul, and once in my idle moments I modelled her bust
from memory. To-morrow I will bring it to you."

"Oh!" cried Selene, and her large heavy eyes brightened with a sunny
gleam.

"Now, is not it true, you are pleased?"

"Yes indeed, very much. But when my father learns that it is you who
have given me the portrait--"

"Is he capable of destroying it?"

"If he does not destroy it, he will not suffer it in the house as soon
as he knows that you made it." Pollux took the handkerchief from the
steward's head, moistened it afresh, and exclaimed as he rearranged it