and Thyra strolled away among the groves in the garden.

"I do not think you care for me, Adherbal," she said reproachfully
as he was speaking of the probabilities of the campaign. "You know
well that this war may continue in Spain for years, and you seem
perfectly indifferent to the fact that we must be separated for
that time."

"I should not be indifferent to it, Thyra, if I thought for a moment
that this was to be the case. I may remain, it is true, for years
in Spain; but I have not the most remote idea of remaining there
alone. At the end of the first campaign, when our army goes into
winter quarters, I shall return here and fetch you."

"That's all very well," the girl said, pouting; "but how do you know
that I shall be willing to give up all the delights of Carthage
to go among the savage Iberians, where they say the ground is all
white in winter and even the rivers stop in their courses?"

Adherbal laughed lightly. "Then it is not for you to talk about
indifference, Thyra; but it won't be so bad as you fear. At
Carthagena you will have all the luxuries of Carthage. I do not
say that your villa shall be equal to this; but as you will have
me it should be a thousand times dearer to you."

"Your conceit is superb, Adherbal," Thyra laughed. "You get worse
and worse. Had I ever dreamed of it I should never have consented
so submissively when my father ordered me to regard you as my future
husband."