"Now, I know it for certain."

"You may be mistaken."

"No, no! your name is Selene, and you are as gentle as the kindly
moonlight; names, even, have their significance."

"And my blind brother who has never even seen the light is called
Helios!" answered the girl.

Pollux had spoken with much warmth, but Selene's last words startled him
and checked the effervescence of his feelings. Finding he did not answer
her bitter exclamation, she said, at first coolly, but with increasing
warmth:

"You are beginning to believe me, and you are right, for what I do for
the children is not done out of love, or out of kindness, or because I
set their welfare above my own. I have inherited my father's pride, and
it would be odious to me if my brothers and sisters went about in rags,
and people thought we were as poor and helpless as we really are. What
is most horrible to me is sickness in the house, for that increases the
anxiety I always feel and swallows up my last coin; the children must not
perish for want of it. I do not want to make myself out worse than I am;
it grieves me too to see them drooping. But nothing that I do brings me
happiness--at most it moderates my fears. You ask what I am afraid of?
--of everything, everything that can happen to me, for I have no reason
to look forward to anything good. When there is a knock, it may be a
creditor; when people look at Arsinoe in the street, I seem to see
dishonor lurking round her; when my father acts against the advice of the