‘I am indeed Cupid,’ replied the youth; ‘and am curious to know what Ixion is thinking about.’ ‘Thought is often bolder than speech.’ ‘Oracular, though a mortal! You need not be afraid to trust me. My aid I am sure you must need. Who ever was found in a reverie on the green turf, under the shade of spreading trees, without requiring the assistance of Cupid? Come! be frank, who is the heroine? Some love-sick nymph deserted on the far earth; or worse, some treacherous mistress, whose frailty is more easily forgotten than her charms? ‘Tis a miserable situation, no doubt. It cannot be your wife?’ ‘Assuredly not,’ replied Ixion, with energy. ‘Another man’s?’ ‘No.’ ‘What! an obdurate maiden?’ Ixion shook his head. ‘It must be a widow, then,’ continued Cupid. ‘Who ever heard before of such a piece of work about a widow!’ ‘Have pity upon me, dread Cupid!’ exclaimed the King of Thessaly, rising suddenly from the ground, and falling on his knee before the God. ‘Thou art the universal friend of man, and all nations alike throw their incense on thy altars. Thy divine discrimination has not deceived thee. I _am_ in love; desperately, madly, fatally enamoured. The object of my passion is neither my own wife nor another man’s. In spite of all they have said and sworn, I am a moral member of society. She is neither a maid nor a widow. She is------’ ‘What? what?’ exclaimed the impatient deity. ‘A Goddess!’ replied the King. ‘Wheugh!’ whistled Cupid. ‘What! has my mischievous mother been indulging you with an innocent flirtation?’ ‘Yes; but it produced no effect upon me.’ ‘You have a stout heart, then. Perhaps you have been reading poetry with Minerva, and are caught in one of her Platonic man-traps.’ ‘She set one, but I broke away.’ ‘You have a stout leg, then. But where are you, where are you? Is it Hebe? It can hardly be Diana, she is so cold. Is it a Muse, or is it one of the Graces?’ Ixion again shook his head. ‘Come, my dear fellow,’ said Cupid, quite in a confidential tone, ‘you have told enough to make further reserve mere affectation. Ease your heart at once, and if I can assist you, depend upon my exertions.’ ‘Beneficent God!’ exclaimed Ixion, ‘if I ever return to Larissa, the brightest temple in Greece shall hail thee for its inspiring deity. I address thee with all the confiding frankness of a devoted votary. Know, then, the heroine of my reverie was no less a personage than the Queen of Heaven herself!’ ‘Juno! by all that is sacred!’ shouted Cupid. ‘I am here,’ responded a voice of majestic melody. The stately form of the Queen of Heaven advanced from a neighbouring bower. Ixion stood with his eyes fixed upon the ground, with a throbbing heart and burning cheeks. Juno stood motionless, pale, and astounded. The God of Love burst into excessive laughter. [Illustration: page28]