him that threatening glare, to seem terrible, in spite of his anguish, to
those whose obedience he required. He had really needed his companion's
support as they descended the stair, that she could plainly see; and she
had observed, too, how carefully his guide had striven to conceal the
fact that he was upholding him; but the courtier was too tall to achieve
the task he had set himself. Now, she was much shorter than Caesar, and
she was strong, too. Her arm would have afforded him a much better
support.

But how could she think of such a thing?--she, the sister of Alexander,
the betrothed of Diodoros, whom she truly loved!

Caesar mingled with the priests, and her guide told her that the corridor
was now free. She peeped into the litter, and, seeing that Diodoros
still slept, she followed him, lost in thought, and giving short and
heedless answers to Andreas and the physicians She had not listened to
the priest's information, and scarcely turned her head to look out, when
a tall, thin man with a bullet-head and deeply wrinkled brow was pointed
out to her as Macrinus, the prefect of the body-guard, the most powerful
man in Rome next to Caesar; and then the "friends" of Caracalla, whom she
had seen yesterday, and the historian Dion Cassius, with other senators
and members of the imperial train.

Now, as they made their way through halls and passages where the foot of
the uninitiated rarely intruded, she looked about her with more interest
when the priest drew her attention to some particularly fine statue or
picture, or some symbolical presentment. Even now, however, though
association with her brothers had made her particularly alive to
everything that was beautiful or curious, she glanced round with less
interest than she otherwise might have done, for she had much else to