multitude of Cæsar's slaves, of both sexes, small boys, and pretorian
soldiers, who kept guard in the palace. Here and there among dark or
swarthy visages was the black face of a Numidian, in a feathered helmet,
and with large gold rings in his ears. Some were bearing lutes and
citharas, hand lamps of gold, silver, and bronze, and bunches of
flowers, reared artificially despite the late autumn season. Louder and
louder the sound of conversation was mingled with the plashing of the
fountain, the rosy streams of which fell from above on the marble and
were broken, as if in sobs.

Acte had stopped her narration; but Lygia gazed at the throng, as if
searching for some one. All at once her face was covered with a blush,
and from among the columns came forth Vinicius with Petronius. They
went to the great triclinium, beautiful, calm, like white gods, in their
togas. It seemed to Lygia, when she saw those two known and friendly
faces among strange people, and especially when she saw Vinicius, that a
great weight had fallen from her heart. She felt less alone. That
measureless yearning for Pomponia and the house of Aulus, which had
broken out in her a little while before, ceased at once to be painful.
The desire to see Vinicius and to talk with him drowned in her other
voices. In vain did she remember all the evil which she had heard of
the house of Cæsar, the words of Acte, the warnings of Pomponia; in
spite of those words and warnings, she felt all at once that not only
must she be at that feast, but that she wished to be there. At the
thought that soon she would hear that dear and pleasant voice, which had
spoken of love to her and of happiness worthy of the gods, and which was
sounding like a song in her ears yet, delight seized her straightway.

But the next moment she feared that delight. It seemed to her that she
would be false to the pure teaching in which she had been reared, false