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ARIADNE. 245when she had cried out that she would go to him,by whom this death had come.She grew stiUer and stdler, whiter and whiter,day by day; nothing seemed alive in her saveher great, lovely, lustrous eyes; her limbs laymotionless.At timesIused to think that shewas changing into the marble she had loved somuch. At timesIgrew foohsh and mad, andwoulcl go to the place where Hermes stood andcaU aloud tohim to help her — he who had madewomen out of sport.But neither from Hermes nor from any othergod could any help come.One day she broke her silence and said to me," How long shall Ifive ? "Ibroke down and wept."As long as God wills! " Ianswered her, asany other woulcl have done, since we are used tospeak so — we who know nothing"ButIam near death?"" Oh, my dear! oh, my love! AVe cannottell! ""I can tell," she said slowly; then, for thefirst time since that awful night when she had