"Let me show you this figure," said my companion, advancing suddenly toward the painting before mentioned.
"Look at the picture, not at me, while I speak," said she hurriedly. "Do not look so strange; be a man!"
I murmured something inaudible in reply, while obeying her injunction so far as to seem busily occupied with the picture, though feeling at the moment utterly indifferent to every thing in the world, now that its chief treasure was lost for me.
"I am sorry for Anvar, poor fellow," continued Ialma in the same tone.
"Why need you grieve for him?" said I, somewhat bitterly. Is he not successful? Has he not every reason to be happy?"
"Reva has gone with him, indeed, but because custom so requires. I know her, however, and can see that her heart is hardened against him. You will see whether I judge correctly."
With heart greatly lightened by these few words, I now left the hall with my kind-hearted monitress. The elders, and many of the younger people, were scattered in groups along the marble colonnades, or under the shade of the wide-spreading trees. The children, engaged in various pastimes, flitted about with the grace and activity of humming-birds. The prevalent notions of a day of rest did not include that of its being also a day of penance and natural quietude for the young.
When we reached the place where I had left my curricle, Reva and Anvar were already out of sight, Utis and Ulmene just about to start. Receiving a direction to follow Utis meanwhile, I started off at a rapid pace
