"She means to say," finally ventured Sesostris, "that she is Artemisia, the niece of Pratinas."
"The niece of Pratinas!" exclaimed Agias, settling himself upon the cushions in a manner that indicated his intention to make a prolonged stay; "and does Pratinas keep his pretty niece shut up in a gloomy tenement, when she has the voice of one of the Graces, and more than their share of beauty! Shame on him; I thought he had better sense than that!"
"Sir," ventured Artemisia, trying desperately to stand on her dignity, "I do not know you. My uncle will be greatly vexed to find you here. Will you go away at once?"
"That I will not," replied Agias, firmly; and he drew from the hamper a baker's bun, and began to munch it, as though laying in provision for a lengthy stay.
Artemisia and Sesostris exchanged glances of dismay.
"What shall I do?" said the girl to the Ethiop in a very audible whisper.
"Sing," interrupted Agias. "Let me hear the rest of the Theocritus."
"I don't like to sing those songs," objected Artemisia. "Pratinas makes me, I don't know why."
"Well," said Agias, smiling, "I wouldn't for the-world make you sing against your will. Suppose you tell me about yourself. Tell me when your uncle is away, and when I may come and see you again."
"He's away nearly all the time," said Artemisia, very incautiously. "But who are you? Why do you want to come and see me?"