I could not believe him when I looked at the advancing figure of Elodia. She sat her horse splendidly erect. Her fair head was crowned with a superb diadem of gold and topazes, with a diamond star in the centre, shooting rays like the sun. Her expression was grave and lofty; she glanced neither to right nor left, but gazed straight ahead--at nothing, or at something infinitely beyond mortal vision. Her horse champed its bits, arched its beautiful neck, and stepped with conscious pride; dangling the gold fringe on its sheeny yellow satin saddle-cloth, until one could hardly bear the sight. "The words mean nothing!" I repeated to myself. "It is not so; Severnius has deceived me. His sister is a sorceress; a--I don't know what! But no woman could preserve that majestic mien, that proud solemnity of countenance, if she were simply--playing! There is a mystery here." I scrutinized every rider as they passed. There was not a man among them,--all women. Their faces had all borrowed, or had tried to borrow, Elodia's queenly look. Many of them only burlesqued it. None were as beautiful as she. When it was all over, and the music had died away in the distance, we drove off,--Giddo threading his way with consummate skill, which redounded much to his glory in certain circles he cared for, through the crowded thoroughfares. I could not speak for many minutes, and Severnius was a man upon whom silence always fell at the right time. I never knew him to break in upon another's mood for his own entertainment. Nor did he spy upon your thoughts; he left you free. By-and-by, I appealed to him: "Tell me, Severnius, what does it mean?" "This celebration?" returned he. "With pleasure. Giddo, you may drive round for half an hour, and then take us to the Auroras' Temple,--it is open to visitors to-day." We drew the robes closely, and settled ourselves more comfortably, as we cleared the skirts of the crowd. It was growing late and the air was filled with fine arrows of frost, touched by the last sunbeams,--their sharp little points stinging our faces as we were borne along at our usual lively speed. "This society of the Auroras," said Severnius, "originated several centuries ago, in the time of a great famine. In those days the people were poor and improvident, and a single failure in their crops left them in a sorry condition. Some of the wealthiest women of the country banded themselves together and worked systematically for the relief of the sufferers. Their faces appeared so beautiful, and beamed with such a light of salvation as they went about from hut to hut, that they got the name of 'auroras' among the simple poor. And they banished want and hunger so magically, that they were also called 'sorcerers'." "O, then, it is a charitable organization?" I exclaimed, much relieved.