It had been plain to less observant eyes than hers that the newly arrived Philadelphus was not delighted with the bride he had met.
The Greek summoned a servant.
"Go summon thy master, Prisca; and haste.

I doubt not I have for him a sweet relief." The woman bowed.
"If it please thee, madam, the master is without in the vestibule, returning from the city." Amaryllis signed to the ivory chair before her.
"Sit, lady," she said to Laodice.

"He will come at once." The young woman dropped into the seat and gazed wistfully at her hostess.

Instinctively, she knew that in this woman was no relief from the darkened life she was to lead with her husband.

The Greek's face, palely lighted by a thoughtful smile, vanished in sudden darkness.
Laodice saw instead an image of a strong intent face, brightening under the sunrise, saw it relax, soften, grow inexpressibly kind, then pass, as a tender memory taking leave for ever.
She was brought to herself by the Greek's rising suddenly.