"'Tis not a pleasant theme," said the Lady Lucia, by way of introducing
another.

"The dear old girl!" said young Gracus, in a low tone, as he turned to
the senator. "Her hair is a lie, her complexion is a lie, her lips are
a lie."

"And her life is a lie," said the other.

"You enjoyed your walk?" asked the mother of Arria, addressing
Vergilius.

"The walk was a delight to me and its end a sorrow," he answered.

"And you obeyed me?"

"To the letter." It is true, he thought, we are a generation of liars,
but how may one help it? Then, quickly, a way seemed to suggest
itself, and he added: "Madame, forgive me. I do now remember we had a
word or two about love; but, you see, I was telling the legend of this
coin. It has the power to show one if he be loved."

"By tossing?"

"By tossing. Head, yes; the reverse, no."

"Let me try." She flung it to the oaken beams and it fell on the great
rug beside her.