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198ARIADNE.with some associates, who were famous men intheir own way, and artists. One of them,midwayin the central chamber, touched him andpointed to the Roman marble." Look! That is the marvel of allParis. Aperfect creation, and they say the sculptor is onlya woman."Hilarion listlessly lifted his eyes to the figure:then his face lost all colour, and he approachedit quickly." Now Isee you, beside it — it is like you,""said one of his friends. Perhaps you haveknown her inRome ? She is aRoman, and wasa pupil of Maryx, they say."Hilarion was silent. He was very pale. Heunderstood the parable in the stone.His friends spoke learnedly around him,praising the work with the discriminative homageof great critics. On the base of the statue hername was cut after the habit of sculptors; heread it, andithurthim curiously.Hestoodbefore the figure, that wasbuthimselfmade god, and heedednothing of the jestsof hisfriends. As the sun shone all about the fair