her, and tittering followed her from several of the rooms as she left
them; even from the large hall where the emperor's friends awaited his
orders in numbers, she heard a loud laugh that frightened and annoyed
her.

She no longer felt as unconstrained as she had been that morning when she
had come before Caesar. She knew that she would have to be on her guard;
that anything, even the worst, might be expected from him. But as
Philostratus described to her, on the way, how terribly the unfortunate
man suffered, her tender heart was again drawn to him, to whom--as she
now felt--she was bound by an indefinable tie. She, if any one, as she
repeated to herself, was able to help him; and her desire to put the
truth of this conviction to the proof--for she could only regard it
as too amazing to be grounded in fact--was seconded by the less
disinterested hope that, while attending on the sufferer, she might
find an opportunity of effecting the release of her father and brother.

Philostratus went on to announce her arrival, and she, while waiting,
tried to pray to the manes of her mother; but, before she could
sufficiently collect her thoughts, the door opened. Philostratus
silently beckoned to her, and she stepped into the tablinum, which was
but dimly lighted by a few lamps.

Caracalla was still resting here; for every movement increased the pain
that tormented him.

How quiet it was! She thought she could hear her own heart beating.

Philostratus remained standing by the door, but she went on tiptoe toward
the couch, fearing her light footsteps might disturb the emperor. Yet