"Amaryllis, the Seleucid ?" "I am called by that name." "I was bidden," Laodice continued, "by one whom we both know, to seek asylum with thee." "So?
Who may that be ?" Laodice whispered the name.
"Philadelphus Maccabaeus." The Greek's eyes took on a puzzled look.

Then she surveyed the girl and as a full conception of the beauty of the young creature before her formed in the Greek's mind, the perplexity left her expression.
Her air changed; a subtle smile played about her lips.
"He sent you to me for protection ?" "Until he arrives in Jerusalem," Laodice assented.
"But he is already here." It was the moment that Laodice had avoided fearfully ever since she had gathered from that winsome stranger by the roadside that his companion was her husband.

Although, after that fact had been made known to her, she had felt that she ought to join Philadelphus and proceed with him to the Holy City, she had endured the exposure of the hills, the want and discomfort of insufficient supplies and the affronts of wayfarers, that she might spare herself as long as possible her union with the unsafe man who had become even more hateful by comparison with the one who had called himself Hesper.
"Perchance thou wilt lead me to him," Laodice said finally.
Amaryllis made no immediate answer.

It would have been a natural impulse for her to wish to inquire for the girl's business with the man that the Greek as hostess was expected to conceal.

But Amaryllis had her own explanation for this visit.