"I had so planned."

A gong of silver rang in the palace halls. It was the signal to
prepare for dinner, and the guests made their farewells. Soon Appius
and the young lover walked side by side in the direction of the
Palatine.

"And what have you been doing?" the former inquired, presently.

"Only dreaming."

"Of what?"

"Of love and happiness, and your sister."

"My sister?"

"Yes; I love her and wish to make her my wife."

"You have wealth and birth and wit and good prospects. I can see no
objection to you. But love--love is a thing for women to talk about."

"You are wrong, Appius. I can feel it in my soul. And, believe me, I
am no longer in Rome. I have found the gateway of a better world--like
that heaven they speak of in the Trastevere--full of peace and beauty."

"You have, indeed, been dreaming," said the other. "But, Vergilius,
there is one higher than I who shall choose her husband--the imperator.
Does he know you?"