And thus peace cometh to the mind of the tempest-tossed, but such a being as Saronia could not long sustain it. Her soul was a spirit in chase, pursuing something undefinable which she longed to obtain, that she might be for ever satisfied and her measure of happiness complete. A calm to her was like a summer day in winter-time, the harbinger of coming storm.
CHAPTER IX
THE STUDIO OF CHIOS
The studio of Chios was very beautiful, and an artist is pretty well known by the place in which he paints, provided he has means to gratify his tastes. It was not a great room filled with materials, leaving him just a dozen square feet to walk about, but a studio of ample proportions, and kept as it should be with space to move around. Nothing of it could be seen from the road, for great clusters of myrtle-trees, gigantic rose-bushes, and crimson oleanders hid it most effectually; but those of his friends who went that way knew when they had passed through the quiet gateway and between the flower-trees that not far away was one of the sweetest little studios in Ephesus. Yes, there it was close to the pond of water-lilies, with the bees humming from blossom to blossom, and the birds singing cheerfully from the foliage which surrounded it; the birds were quite tame, for Chios was kind to them, and some would light upon his shoulders, and others on his arm.
A few steps led up to the marble portico, with its ceiling of blue decked with little silver stars and a crescent moon. At the entrance stood two small statues by Euphranor and Phidias.
Within all was beauty: the studio, circular in form, with alcoves lit with light which filtered in through the thinnest sheets of coloured marble; the furniture, simple, but choice; a kline or two of cedar-wood, enriched with gold, to recline on when weary; a few chairs of ebony, cypress, and rosewood were placed in the alcoves; a marble thronos for his sitters; a few small tables, three-legged and four-legged, beautifully carved, stood about to hold his brushes and palettes and the choicest flowers, which a good old servant brought him every morning.
These things, with his easels, made up the contents of his studio. It was not so famous for its furniture as for the beauty of its construction, with domed roof and circular opening to the sky, and its floor of marble enriched with precious stones. For Chios was wealthy, and could lavish money as he pleased in decorating his studio.
Behind this working-room were retiring-rooms, and a small but valuable library of choice manuscripts by Callinus, the Elegiac poet; Batalus, the musician; Dion, Andron, Delias, and Daphnus, the philosophers; with works by Phavorinus, Zenodotus, Menander, and many others.