Having passed the period of mourning, she gave suppers in her country-house which lasted until dawn. She brought famous auletai from Attica who set the Saguntine youths wild with their flutes. She sent ships on voyages with no other commercial object than to bring rare perfumes from Asia, fabrics from Egypt, and unique adornments from Carthage; and her fame extended so far into the interior that kinglets from Celtiberia were drawn to Saguntum to behold that wonderful woman, as wise as a priestess, and as beautiful as a divinity. The Greeks admired her, observing that she strengthened the prestige of their race among the primitive Saguntines, who were lavish with eulogy of her disinterestedness. Thus she lived! No women entered her house, none but flute-players, dancers, and slaves; she was surrounded by men who yearned for her, but she held herself aloof, and treated them all with a masculine but distant intimacy. She was ever thinking of Athens the luminous, the city which held so many memories, and many of whose customs she sought to revive. Euphobias the philosopher, as he reached this point in his story, stoutly declared that Sónnica's life in Saguntum was above reproach, in spite of what the Greek women of the district of the merchants said. He himself, who possessed the bitterest tongue in the city, affirmed it. Several times she had been attracted toward some guest at her dinners. Alorcus, the scion of a petty king of Celtiberia, who lived in Saguntum and frequented her house, had made an impression upon her with his wild, virile beauty, as a son of the mountains; but Sónnica held him back, plainly fearing to take the step and unite herself with one of a barbarous race. The memory of Attica wholly occupied her imagination. If some young Athenian had landed on those shores, some youth as beautiful as Alcibiades, singing verses, modeling statues, and displaying skill and dexterity as in the Olympian games, perhaps she might have fallen into his arms, but her emotions were unstirred among the arrogant Celtiberians who came to her feasts smelling of horses and with their swords girded at their sides, and among the effeminate sons of merchants, becurled, and shedding perfumes, caressing their small slave boys, who accompanied them even in the bath. "Athenian," continued the philosopher, "you should present yourself to Sónnica. She will receive you kindly. You are not an ephebus," he added, with a mocking smile; "your beard is turning gray, but you have in your figure the arrogance of a king in the Iliad; upon your forehead something of the majesty of Socrates; and who knows but that you may fall heir to Bomaro's riches! If that should come to pass, do not forget the poor philosopher. I will be content with a skin of wine from Laurona, since to-day you condemn me to thirst." Euphobias laughed, slapping Actæon on the shoulder. "I am invited to Sónnica's banquet to-night," said the Greek.