me what you please; I _had to do it_, or lose the consulship. Now look
the matter in the face. You must contract no more debts; I can't
discharge the old ones. Live as reasonably as you can."

"And no more nice dinners? No more visits to Baiæ?" groaned the lady,
rocking to and fro.

"Yes, yes," broke in her brother-in-law, sharply, "I can still raise
enough to meet all ordinary expenses. If I let down in my household,
my creditors would see I was pinched, and begin to pluck me. I can
weather the storm. But look here: Cornelia must have an end with that
young Drusus. I can never pay her dowry, and would not have him for a
nephew-in-law if I could."

"Cornelia break off with Drusus?" and Claudia stopped whimpering, and
sat staring at Lentulus with astonished eyes. To tell the truth she
had always liked the young Livian, and thought her daughter was
destined for a most advantageous match.

"Certainly, my dear Claudia," said the consul-elect, half relieved to
change what had been a very awkward subject; "I can assure you that
Quintus is far from being a proper and worthy man for a husband for
your daughter. I have heard very evil reports of him while in the
city. He has cast in his lot with that gang of knavish Cæsarians
centring around Marcus Antonius, Cælius, and that Caius Sallustius[77]
whom our excellent censors have just ejected from the Senate, because
of his evil living and Cæsarian tendencies. Do I need to say more of
him? A worthless, abandoned, shameless profligate!"

[77] Sallust, the well-known historian.