To add to her troubles, Lucius Ahenobarbus was ever thrusting in his
attentions at every party and at the theatre; and her uncle openly
favoured his suit.

"I wish you would be more friendly to him," remarked Lentulus on one
occasion. "I should be glad to have a closer tie between his family
and ours."

"Uncle," said Cornelia, much distressed, "I do not think I understand
what you mean."

"Well," chuckled Lentulus, moving away, "think it over until you do
understand."

Cornelia had been reading in the library when this conversation took
place. There was to be another party that evening at the house of
Marcus Favonius, a prominent anti-Cæsarian, and since it was growing
late in the afternoon, it was time to dress. Cornelia went into her
own room, and was summoning her maids, when a young lady of about her
own age, who affected to be on terms of considerable intimacy, was
announced--Herennia, a daughter of a certain rich old eques, Caius
Pontius, who had kept out of politics and hoarded money, which his
daughter was doing her best to spend.

Herennia was already dressed for the party. Her brown hair had been
piled up in an enormous mass on her head, eked out by false tresses
and puffings, and the whole plentifully powdered with gold dust. She
wore a prodigious number of gaudily set rings; her neck and ears and
girdle were ablaze with gold and jewels. So far from aiming, as do