Then, seating herself, with a melancholy glance at her embroidery where it lay folded together, she rested her elbow on the table and her head in her hand, considering to whom she could appeal to save her father.
First she thought of Caesar himself, whose eye had met hers, and for whom she had prayed and offered sacrifice.

But the blood fired her cheeks at the thought, and she repelled it at once.

Yet her mind would linger at the Serapeum, where her lover, too, still rested his fevered head.

She knew that the high-priests' spacious lodgings there, with their splendid rooms and banqueting halls, had been prepared for the emperor; and she remembered various things which her brother had told her of Timotheus, who was at the head not only of the heathen priesthood, but also of the museum.

He was said to be a philosopher, and Philip had more than once been distinguished by him, and invited to his house.