It was a different Amaryllis that the pretended Philadelphus faced
now, from the one who had welcomed him on his arrival in Jerusalem
months ago. Then she had been so cold and self-contained that it would
have been effrontery to discuss her hopes with her. Now, with the
avarice of love in her eyes, with wishfulness and defeat making their
sorry signs on her face, she was a creature that even the humblest
would have longed to help.
Philadelphus sat opposite her in the ivory chair which was hers by
right. She sat in the exedra and listened eagerly to the things he
said with her finger-tips on her lips and her eyes gazing from under
her brow as her head drooped.
She had ceased long ago to debate idly on the actual identity of the
man who had called himself Hesper of Ephesus. There was another
question that absorbed her. Of late, it had been brought home to her
that the charm of Laodice for the stranger from Ephesus, to whom the
Greek knew the girl had fled, had been her purity. Why should it
matter so much about virtue? she had asked herself. Why should it
weigh so immeasurably more than the noble gifts of wit and beauty and
strength and charm? Behold, she was wise enough to educate a barbarous
nation, beautiful enough to bewitch potentates--for a time--strong
enough to take a city; yet Hesper, who best of all could appreciate
the value of these things, had turned from her to Laodice, who was
merely chaste.
The greater part of the jealous and bitter passion that had shaken her
then was dumb regret that the measure of charm was so irrational--and
that she had not believed in it, in time, in time!
Now, however, since she had become convinced that Laodice had gone to
Hesper for refuge, hope had awakened in her, but so filled with
uncertainty and lack of confidence in another's weakness that it was
little more than a torture to her.
If Laodice had gone to this winsome stranger, either claiming to be
the wife of Philadelphus or acknowledging the imposture, there was now
no difference between Laodice and herself!
But, she asked herself, was it not possible that this lovely girl who
had shown signs of illimitable fortitude, could live in the shelter of
the captivating Hesper as uprightly as she had lived under the roof of
the man she called her husband?
In one exigency, the hopes of Amaryllis budded; in the other, her
intuitive belief in the strength of Laodice discouraged her. And while
she alternately hoped and doubted, Philadelphus, in the chair opposite
her, talked.
"It follows that you and I must work together to gain diverse ends. If
our fortunes are to be tragic, we are undoing each other in this
conjunction. Since I in all frankness prefer it to turn out comedy,
let us make no error. Are you weary of John? Do you seek a new
diversion?"