had formed a great resolve, and she said slowly, emphasizing every word:

"If nothing utterly unforeseen occurs in the heavens on your birth-night,
you shall be our son, and so Hadrian's successor and heir. I swear it."

There was something solemn in her voice, and her small eyes were wide
open.

"Sabina, Mother, guardian spirit of my life!" cried Verus, and he fell on
his knees by her couch. She looked in his handsome face with deep
emotion, laid her hands on his temples, and pressed her lips on his dark
curls.

A moist brilliancy sparkled in those eyes, unapt to tears, and in a soft
and appealing tone that no one had ever before heard in her voice she
said:

"Even at the summit of fortune, after your adoption, even in the purple
all will be the same between us two. Will it? Tell me, will it?"

"Always, always!" cried Verus. "And if our hopes are fulfilled--"

"Then, then," interrupted Sabina and she shivered as she spoke. "Then,
still you will be to me the same that you are now; but to be sure, to be
sure--the temples of the gods would be empty if mortals had nothing left
to wish for."

"Ah! no. Then they would bring thank-offerings to the divinity," cried
Verus, and he looked up at the Empress; but she turned away from his
smiling glance and exclaimed in a tone of reproof and alarm: