"Be sure to be here," she said. "You will not regret coming."
Between naps that afternoon and before I slept that night I soothed myself with the hope that I was, by Nemestronia's influence, to have an interview with Vedia.
Next morning the weather was beautiful, the sky clear, the air neither too cool nor too warm, the breeze soft and steady. Nemestronia's water-garden appeared to me even more delightful than the day before. I admired the lotus trees, the water-lily pads in the pools, the jets of the fountains, the bright strips of flowers along the pools, particularly some water- flags or some flowers resembling water-flags.
I was idling in the sun on a cushion which Agathemer had arranged for me on a marble seat against the upper wall, nearly midway of the garden, but in sight of the postern gate by which I had entered. So idling and dreaming day dreams I let my eyes rove languidly about the scene before me. While meditating and staring at the pavement at my feet I heard footsteps on the walk and looked up.
To my amazement I saw Egnatius Capito approaching.
No wonder I was amazed. I knew him but slightly. I should never have thought of asking to see him, as I had asked to be allowed to see several of my semi-intimates. Agathemer had insisted that I postpone seeing them, because an interview with any of them was likely to overtire me. I knew that no one could have entered that garden without Agathemer's knowledge. I could not conceive how Capito came to be there.
He greeted me formally and asked permission to seat himself beside me. I gave it rather grudgingly.
He asked after my health and I answered only less grudgingly.
"I conjecture," he said, "that you are surprised to see me here?"
"I am surprised," I said shortly.